Page 79 of A Night with Damien Spur

That’s better, saidthe Voice,your turn at last.

‘Well, I studied English at Oxford and when MI5 wanted to recruit me as a spy I said yes, although I wasn’t interested in a career in espionage. I was just intrigued to see what sort of games were played. Thus I went through the process and met some interesting people. Speaking Russian made me rather valuable. But I found bouncing back and forth between Russia and London tiresome and actually rather boring. So, finally I managed to extricate myself from the dark and murky world of stealing secrets by faking anxiety attacks. Basically I got a sick note from the doc. However, some of it was good fodder for my books, especially tales from my Russian counterparts, who after a few vodkas told me some terrific stories. I suppose I’m a writer because I like a good yarn, especially my own.’

After his initial discomfort, Damien had started to enjoy talking with Elizabeth. She avoided light conversational clichés. She was both interesting and interested.

You’re doing fine, said the Voice.I’m sure you won’t mind if I leave you to it.

‘So, time for dinner.’ Elizabeth took Damien’s arm andguided him up a circular staircase into a domed turret, a secret, sensual space, lit by candles scented with jasmine and bergamot, which gave Damien’s senses a pleasant, heady lift. By the window, a small round table had been formally dressed for dinner with a white linen cloth, monogrammed silver cutlery and fine crystal glasses.

‘This is my Rapunzel room,’ Elizabeth said.

Chang filled their glasses and placed two plates of large oysters on the table.

Elizabeth took one and deftly slipped it from the shell into her mouth. Damien paled, but did the same.

‘I’m so sorry.’ He started to choke. ‘I really can’t eat oysters. I never could, ever since I had food poisoning. Please could you ask Ching… I mean, Chang, to take them away?’

‘Certainly, the apology is mine. I just assumed that when you said you loved seafood, that you would enjoy oysters.’ Elizabeth buzzed the intercom.

‘Please could you take Mr Spur’s plate of oysters away? Would you like smoked salmon instead?’ she asked, glancing at Damien’s pale face.

He nodded weakly. ‘Thank you. Perhaps some dry toast would be better for now.’

By the time the main course arrived – tender seared duck breast with roasted vegetables – he had recovered.

‘This is divine. Chang is an excellent cook. Where did you find him?’

‘In Hong Kong. It was the ambassador’s party. The dinner was fabulous and I asked to meet the chef. I just had to steal him. So I took him back to London with me. And now it’s time for dessert.’ She rose from her seat and, taking his hand, led him to the bedroom.

***

‘Well done,’ she said. ‘That was fun.’

‘Elizabeth…’ He took a breath.

‘Now don’t say anything you might regret. No lovey-dovey chat. I can’t stand that.’

He kissed her neck.

‘But can I say that I love the way you smell? Rose? Jasmine?’ He inhaled deeply. ‘And sandalwood. Like the sweet scent of an Indian palace garden where a princess sits in the early evening, dreaming of tender kisses from her secret lover.’

Not bad. The Voice was back.She’ll like that.

‘Very good,’ she said. ‘You have an excellent nose.’

‘Thank you…’ He paused, anxious to hold her interest. ‘So, tell me, what makes a fragrance great?’

‘Creating a wonderful fragrance is like composing a piece of music. Both have notes and chords. To make a beautiful scent the composition has to harmonise perfectly to intoxicate the senses.’

‘Perfume, the only dress a lovely woman needs under the sheets.’ He reached out his hand to stroke her breast.

Elizabeth’s eyes flicked towards the bathroom. He was losing her.

‘I’m going to have a shower. Feel free to leave if you like,’ she said, sliding out of bed.

‘Is this the cue for my exit?’ Damien asked.

Oh no!said the Voice.And you were doing so well.Mr Insecure again.

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