When Sharon woke the next morning, Bryan was gone and she might almost have thought that she had dreamt the night before except that as she sat up in the bed, she saw a note a note lying on the pillow next to her and recognized his bold and distinctive handwriting.
The message was brief, almost curt. 'Breakfast downstairs at seven forty five. B'.
That was all it said. He hadn't even said good morning nor even signed with his name, just with an impersonal initial.
There was no indication whatoever of the intimacy they had shared the previous night.
She ran a fingerprint over the writing,as though she were touching him and felt her inside dissolve completely.
She thought of Bryan and images of the memorable night they had ran through her mind and she trembled.
She wished that he had stayed behind so that they could have had another session. She knew that if he had still been there, she would have thrown herself at him again. At least she would have been the one to initiate it this time but he must have been very considerate of her exhausted state, else he would have woken her and had her again and again if that was what he wanted because she knew that she would have wanted that and very much too.
And then the phone rang shrilly, making her jump. She looked at it as though it was a snake that was getting ready to bite her. Then she suddenly felt that it just could be him ringing to say to her all the things that he hadn't out in the mote.
She blushed and lifting the receiver, huskily said, ' Hello?'
'Goid morning, this is your operator, it is seven fifteen, ma'am'.
'Oh... thank you....' Sharon pt the receiver down. She hadn't asked for a wake-up call, Bryan must have booked it.
Well that was thoughtful of him and no doubt he had gone back to his room very early so that nobody would see him leaving hers which was very considerate. Everyone on this floor was at the conference and some of them knew her. Gossips could spread like wild fire at these events.
She could remember at other conferences listening to the gleeful talk of who was sleeping with whom. These things does happen when people were away from home and went in for long long dinners with wine flowing freely.
But her and Bryan, well that was different, she thought in anguish. That hadn't been a one night stand at the conference, something to be forgotten easily or as soon as possible. Or... had it?
She sat very still on the edge of the bed staring thoughtfully at that brief, cold, impersonal note, devoid of all emotion. It was hardly a love letter, was it?'
He could have said something about last night or at least sign his name with something like, ' Love Bryan's. It could most definitely not have compromised him, now could it?
Had last night meant anything to him other than an easy conquest? He hadn't said that he loved her and hadn't made any promises either nor any propositions. One moment they had been quarrelling at her door and the next, on the floor making love in a frenzy.
Her face burned as she remembered the intensity of the love and passion they had shared on the floor, on the bed, the intensity had been immensely gratifying, liberating and edifying.
Stricken, she screwed the note up and threw it a Ross the room. What had she done? She had never behaved that way in her life before, had never been promiscuous and this was a lousy time to start. She wished she could turn back the hands of time, go back in time, wipe off those moments in his arms.
She was twenty six, and not inexperienced She had had a couple of serious relationships. One that had lasted for over a year before breaking up by mutual consent. They had both realised that it was not working and had become routine and it was better to go their separate ways with good memories than resentment and the other serious relationship she had had been so painful that she had not wanted to get involved with anyone else for a long, long time.
But no other man had made her feel the way she had last night. She hadn't even suspected that such incredible sensuality existed.
It had been like flying. She had flung herself recklessly from a mountain peak and found to her astonished gratitude that she had wings and she had been so sure that he felt the same.
She shut her eyes remembering his passion. That hadn't been faked but maybe she had misunderstood - great sex didn't need emotion behind it. Had she forgotten that some men just liked sex and could walk away afterwards without looking back no matter how good it had been? She had even read somewhere that it was easy for a woman to give herself to a man because she was emotionally involved and not just because she felt like having sex. So to a woman who was not a commercial sex worker, emotion came before sex but that was not the case with the man because he could have sex without being involved emotionally with the woman. So maybe that was exactly what had happened last night and she was judging his passion based on her own emotions.
But was Bryan really like that? Oh God, how was she going to face him this morning? The thought of breakfast made her want to throw up. Eating breakfast with him, having to look at him, remembering and knowing that he remembered.
She recalled her first impressions of him. The good looks cloaked ruthless determination. He had killer eyes, a mind like a computer. It made him good at his job but a poor risk as a lover. That was the man who took you last night, she thought with a pang of stricken shame.
As soon as he sensed that for some reason you were vulnerable to him, he took what he could and walked away.
How had he known that he could do that? How had she betrayed herself? Pale, she felt her stomach heaving. A hand over her mouth, she ran into the bathroom and was violently sick.
She sat on the floor sobbing for minutes on end, a cold wet towel against her feverish face.