Yesterday`s flower - Michelle Tarynne (fun to read TXT) 📗

just after hers and his breathing heavy. Touching her face, he softly kissed her eyelids.
‘This is not what I thought I’d be doing this evening,’ he said.

Erika smiled. Confessions of love meant nothing to her just at the moment. But confessions of great sex … now that was what she needed.
Jared stroked her face. ‘Max will be wondering where we are.’

Erika felt her stomach twist into an almost instant pre el. ‘You go ahead. Give me a few minutes to collect myself.’
Jared grinned. ‘Red or white?’ he asked.
‘What?’
‘Red or white wine?’
‘Oh, right,’ she giggled. ‘Red. Why not a bit of red?’

♥

Staring into the bathroom mirror, Erika pulled a brush through her hair. Her cheeks were a li le flushed, but she still looked herself. Just not the old Erika.

Thinking of Jared’s body made her legs feel as though they would cave. Perhaps Ashton had been right: You know the old adage of ge ing over a man by ge ing one onto you … Except that Jared wasn’t just any man. He made her heat up.

Erika checked her bu ons. A good thing – she’d missed one, and another was in the wrong hole.

Max didn’t have a claim on her, did he? He’d brought her here to work on the book – she hadn’t made any other promises. He was a gentleman, so he wouldn’t expect her to make any. Some beautiful scenery, a historic farmhouse, and perhaps something else might fall into place. He didn’t have it in him to push or predict. He was far too nice to do that.

Erika brushed the dust off her jeans. She could do the book, couldn’t she? After the interlude in the cellar, she felt capable of anything. Creative. Potent. Why complicate things? If it upset him, he didn’t actually have to know about Jared.
The truth was her body was finally awakening from a long and miserable hibernation.
Tuning back into a world without Albert.
And it was amazing.

Chapter 8

By the time Erika returned to the fire, the brothers were talking about an upcoming

rugby match, be ing on a predicted score, and Erika felt a strange admiration for Jared’s composure: his side of the conversation didn’t falter. They were so engaged that they barely noticed her return, or so she thought, until she saw Jared’s eyes roving her body with a sense of ownership that made her blush. He held out her glass, le ing their hands touch for just an instant, and a jolt of electricity darted up her arm.

Erika wasn’t nearly as capable of subterfuge – her eyes were so dangerously locked on him that he only broke her stare when he went inside to fetch the salt.
‘You’re quiet, Erika,’ Max said. ‘Everything okay?’

Erika smiled. ‘I guess I’m a li le tired, that’s all. All this country air.’ Max cut up the cooked sausage. ‘So, what do you think of Le Domaine?’

‘It’s magical,’ she said, and not just to make him happy – Le Domaine was everything Max had described and more. ‘I can see why you know so much about the stars.’ She pointed up to the clear skies. ‘Two nights of the most perfectly clear evenings I’ve ever experienced, and both with you,’ she said.

Max’s face lit up. ‘Well, I hope we’ll have lots more. Are you happy with your room? I wasn’t sure whether to put you in the co age or the main house.’
‘It’s lovely,’ she said.

A silence fell between them, but it wasn’t one of those companiable lulls they’d shared in Langebaan. She felt the need to make an effort.

‘Will we start on the book tomorrow, do you think, Max?’ ‘I’d like to, if that’s alright with you.’

‘Of course. I’m looking forward to it.’

Max offered her a piece of boerewors on a fork. ‘Have you tried this yet? Traditional South African sausage. This one is extra special, though – Prudence makes it with my great-great-grandmother’s recipe. She wasn’t a De Villiers by birth; she came from the Dutch side of the family. A brilliant cook by all accounts.’

Erika bit into it identifying some familiar flavours: coriander, allspice and nutmeg. ‘Delicious,’ she said.

‘Of course, recipes like this are closely guarded secrets.’ Erika smiled. ‘I can see why,’ she said.

‘Here.’ Max cut her another slice of meat. ‘Sometimes the best bits are the ones you steal straight from the braai. My dad used to call them “cook’s spoils”.’

She opened her mouth, enjoying the mix of tastes on her tongue. Max was as gentle as always, caring for her in a way no man ever really had. Not even her own father.

When Jared returned from the kitchen with the Cerebos, she and Max were si ing side by side, sharing a piece of boerewors between them. Even to an outsider Max’s stance would have seemed territorial, like a dog guarding a beloved mistress. Jared, however, appeared unperturbed, taking a seat on the other side of the table. He watched Max slicing and piercing the sausage, then helped himself to a plate.

‘For some reason,’ he said, looking directly at Erika, ‘I’m as hungry as a fox. Erika, please pass the pap?’

‘The what?’

‘Just next to your left hand, yes, that dish. It’s ground corn, another South African staple. We grew up on the stuff, didn’t we, Max?’

‘If Prudie had anything to do with it, sure,’ Max replied. ‘Try it with a bit of that sauce, Erika. Here, let me hold the plate for you.’

And Max, at ease in both their company led the conversation from there. When Jared’s phone rang, they were almost all finishing second helpings. Jared held the phone in his palm, calmly checking who it was before he stood up and walked away from the table to answer it.

‘Bugger,’ he said, when he came back from a brief conversation. ‘That was Heinrich. I forgot I was supposed to meet up with him tonight. He’s si ing there at Reuben’s wondering where the hell I am.’
‘You’d be er go,’ said Max. ‘We can clear up, can’t we, Erika?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Erika said, wondering a li le selfishly why Jared would want to dash away.

‘Well, don’t wait up,’ Jared said. ‘Heinrich’s been planning this skop since Evan’s bachelor’s. It’s not going to be pre y.’

Moments later, Erika heard the sound of a shower, a toilet flush. Remembering his body against hers, she reluctantly wondered how it would feel to wash him all away …

Max leant over to fill her glass. ‘How’s the wine?’ he said. ‘I forgot to ask. This was one of our be er vintages.’

‘It’s lovely,’ Erika said, trying to focus. ‘Er, tastes like cherries.’ Max nodded encouragingly.
‘And plums, and maybe a touch of oak.’

‘You’re a natural,’ he said, smiling. ‘Jared must like you. He doesn’t bring this out for just anybody.’

Erika took another sip, then a gulp. ‘I need to use the bathroom,’ she said suddenly. ‘Will you excuse me a moment?’
‘Sure. I’ll start taking in the plates –’

‘Oh, please don’t,’ Erika said, surprised by the pleading in her voice. ‘If you do, dinner will be over and it’s still so early ...’
Max shrugged. ‘You got it.’

Jared was in the entrance hall retrieving his keys. His jeans hung beautifully, and a light blue shirt emphasised his tan.

‘You got ready quickly,’ Erika said, making him jump. She wanted to reach out to him, but something about his expression told her not to. ‘You look great,’ she said.
‘Thanks.’

‘Listen, Erika, I’ve got to go,’ he said, his voice clipped. ‘Sorry.’ She was being dismissed.
‘You have a fun time tonight,’ she said in her most light-hearted voice.
‘It’s just one night,’ Jared said, jangling his keys.
Erika felt herself go cold.
See you,’ she said.
‘Erika,’ Jared called.
She turned. ‘Yes?’ she said.
‘I’ll be back later.’
She didn’t bother responding.

 

♥

By the time she came outside again, Jared’s car had already roared down the driveway.
Erika sat down next to Max, and reached for her wine glass.
‘He keeps a hectic schedule,’ she said casually.

‘Jared? That brother of mine doesn’t sleep. Most nights he gets by on three hours. Sometimes it’s like he’s on a mission to exhaust himself.’
‘Does it work?’

‘I don’t know. Probably. Jared’s always one step ahead.’ Erika stretched. ‘So what’s the plan for tomorrow?’ she asked.

‘Well, I thought I could go through some of the family archives with you. Show you some of the photos. Then maybe we could go into Franschhoek and have lunch. Stop off at the Huguenot Museum.’
Erika nodded. ‘That sounds lovely.’

‘I’m not really sure how you work, but I thought at least I could give you a feel for what I’m trying to achieve. And also for the atmosphere around here. That’s what caught me about your kite-surfing sketches – you really know how to capture a mood.’
Erika smiled. ‘And you really know how to fla er a girl,’ she said.
‘It’s not fla ery. Just the truth.’

A mosquito buzzed softly between them and Erika instinctively rubbed her arms. Max clapped his hands together.

‘Damn it, missed,’ he said. ‘Shall I get an insect-repellent candle? Seems a shame to go inside.’

Erika finished the last of her wine. ‘You know, Max?’ she said. ‘I’m actually not up for a late night as I thought I was. Let’s go inside and make some coffee.’

If Max was disappointed, he hid it remarkably well. ‘I’ll show you how to use the espresso machine, in case you need to whip up a la e when Prudie or I aren’t around,’ he offered.

Seemed it was just like Max to remember. Erika touched his face, kissing him on the cheek.
‘Thank you for a lovely evening, Max. And for inviting me here.’

♥

By the time Erika had dressed for breakfast the next morning, Jared had already disappeared. She wasn’t sure if she was glad or disappointed. In the light of day, she wondered if the hours she’?d spent tossing and turning were even worth it. Even if it was just one night, wasn’t she the be er for it? She wasn’t the sexless, frigid ice queen Albert had moaned about. And it had taken a fumble in the cellar to show her that. Well, more than a fumble, actually ...

Ashton would have told her to grow up and enjoy the afterglow, so that is what she resolved to do. She felt like an idiot for cornering Jared against the entrance hall table. As if she could force him to ravish her! No, she’d wait for that feeling to fade in its own good time. And when she had to face him again, she’d thrust the memory of their encounter far from her mind.
‘Knock, knock,’ Erika said, as she approached the kitchen door.

‘Good morning, sleepyhead,’ Max said. ‘Come on in.’ She sat down in one of the wicker chairs. ‘Did you sleep well?’ Max asked.

Erika wondered if Max had seen the light under her door. For someone who’d professed exhaustion, she’d taken an awfully long time to fall asleep. And even then she hadn’t heard Jared come home.

‘I did eventually,’ she said. ‘I don’t know. For some reason, as soon as I was actually in bed my mind woke up. I ended up reading some trashy novel until one.’

‘If you do that every night, we’ll have to take you to the bookshop to stock up. Louis will be delighted you’ve moved in.’

Erika laughed. ‘You’re always full of good ideas, aren’t you,