a story new...part 2.
... In a stunned state of mind, she wondered what had happened. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her and landed her into something quite unique and strange. What was that animalistic attraction she felt toward that man?
That morning passed as if in a daze. She went about doing as she planned, painting, then the beginning of the wall mural.
On standing back and looking at the start of what was supposed to be a freehand reflection of flow and unrestricted thought, was nothing of the sort. The edges were jagged...the mural quite symmetrical and orderly...nothing free flow in those lines. She sighed and decided to put the charcoal down and take a breather.
Glancing at the clock, she realised how oblivious she had been to the passing of time. And if asked where her thoughts may have been, she had no answer. What was it that had held her captive....she still felt that burrowing look of his gaze.
The time was nearing for that cup of cup...or rather that visit to his home. She pampered herself to a long hot shower. Hair washed. Dried and straightened. That mop of hers looked too unruly and unkept if the hot irons were not applied. She opted for very little make-up...a lip gloss, a bit of rouge and mascara. Deodorant...no perfume. She liked the soapy fresh smell .
A black g-string. braless, and a simple long flowing black dress to cover her frame. Could be considered formal or informal, all depending on the accessories. She opted for a black ribbon round her neck, tied in a bow and thus flat shoes for comfort. Simple. Elegant. Not too revealing but, obviously, quite naked.
She wasn't sure if a gift would be appropriate . It didn't seem right. This visit was not based on friendship or even any form of acquaintance. What was it. An invite to satiate a thirst? Reveal the strangeness of events?
Whatever it was, she felt silly arriving empty handed and thus grabbed a bottle of dry red wine and made her way to a destination printed on a business card, handed over, without concern that it may land in the wrong hands.
She wondered if she should give him a call and tell him she was on her way. Opted not to. Maybe in the hope he had forgotten and would not be home...feeling slightly sheepish as to what was taking place.
And there it was. His home. Hidden behind stately walls. How crazy to even consider driving in not knowing what lay beyond. As foolish as the need to find out, the need to ensure ones well-being was not lost on her and thus the feel of the little number tucked in a leather holster between her thighs.
She was a maverick and not scared of the unknown but, taking all precautions at hand to not land herself in too much deep and hot water. Always an exit plan on hand.
Her breathing was deep and controlled, even when the big gates opened, the buzzer she had pressed informing him of her arrival.
It was a long drive up toward some lights hidden behind a rich foliage of trees that lined the driveway.
Still no concern or worry what lay ahead...all of a sudden ...a sprawling single storey home...it seemed as if it was completely made of glass, most of the sliding doors open wide, allowing the coolness of the evening to waft through the rooms. A quiet serenity enveloped what lay before her. A sense of security, an unconcerned freedom, no reserve, allowing the world to be part of the inside of his home.
She parked in the wide driveway, not too far from what looked like the front door ....open....huge....made of frosted glass...she did note the thickness of the glass and wondered as to the price of such a thing.
He was nowhere in sight. She didn't bother to knock or call out. She knew he was aware of her arrival.
A musky heaviness of sandalwood, jasmine and leather permeated the air. a whiff of cigar smell...?...she thought it lingered here and there.
Still no sign of him. She began to take note of her surroundings, the soft hue of light painting shadows across the walls, beautiful items that filled the house. The floor rugs rich weaves, the furniture hefty yet elegant and a perfect fit for each space and corner in the house.
Her ears strained to hear what seemed to be playing through the rooms.
A piece of music...light...inviting....relaxing.
A classical piece?
No.
Arabic?
African? Nope...
whatever it was, it knew to be trance-like
in its pleasantness.Strangely, she felt at home.
And all that time, unobserved, he stood in the shadows of his patio and watched her curiosity and will to absorb the beauty of his home...in appreciation and understanding of what each thing was and why it happened to be there.
And as she lingered and examined and inhaled all before her, he appreciated the naked outline of her body beneath her loose garment and smiled, taking note of the revolver tucked between her thighs. This was a woman he had to have . This was a woman worthy of the challenge he knew she would be. But, now to stop dreaming and rather reveal himself.
'Good evening...." her said, stepping out of the shadows.
'Good evening Kelvin." she said, adding..." ...Lara."
'Good evening Lara. Welcome...'
(to be continued.)
RB.
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