|John Haveland (phony_king) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2012-07-25 00:27:00
|Entry tags:||isabelle darlington, prince john|
Who: John, Isabelle Darlington
Where: New Year's Eve party
When: Saturday night, 31st December
What: A bit of arm candy at an otherwise dull event
For once, John was sick of people talking about him. The tittering over the video incident that changed to the scandal of the fight in the boardroom, and there was only so much he could do to avoid it. Christmas had been a miserable affair too, since his mother wasn't speaking to him right now and Richard definitely wasn't going to contact him, so he'd stayed home and got drunk on brandy and then dialed a sex line for someone to talk to.
Now tonight was New Year's Eve, and John was not looking forward to it. He had to make an appearance, as it was his firm's function, but he was going to be isolated the entire night, with polite platitudes about the bruise that was still fading on his face, and murmured empty wishes for the new year.
He picked up his iPhone, thumbing idly through his contacts list, in search of a better party. At least Robin wouldn't be bothering him tonight. He got to sneer about that. Something made him pause though. Right at the bottom of his contacts list was White Dress Girl. She'd even let him take a photo of her so it came up if she called. He had to think a moment, but remembered her from the gala event. That naive charity girl! that's right. Well, she was a bit of all right anyway. Cute freckles. It couldn't hurt to find out if she was doing anything.
Her girlfriends had changed plans on her at the last minute, so Isabelle found herself in a pretty dress with nowhere to go. She'd just unzipped the back, content with sitting around in her jammies and footie socks with a cup of hot chocolate. She'd spend the night with her parents. It was then that she got the call.
For a moment she looked at the number, a cute girlish smile breaking across her face. She responded quickly that she was free. She hadn't ever expected to hear from him after at least a week since she'd attended the Gala event, but she thought he was the cutest thing.
John smiled when she replied. It had been a long time since he'd last had the energy to flirt, and that had been a soon-to-be-ex wife of a lawyer at a competing firm. Who know that newly separated women could be so clingy? God, it wasn't like he'd asked her to leave her husband or anything. She didn't have to make such a big thing about it when he'd turned her down.
So a sweet little thing like White Dress was a no-strings welcome change, so long as her daddy didn't find out. Fathers tended to get upset when they found out about their baby girls having a fling with a much older man. (haha. Yes. MUCH older.) But it was just a party, and then they could come back together and then he wouldn't have to see her again and it'd be fine.
He'd have to find out her name, too.
He told her that he'd pick her up in an hour if she sent him her address, and dress up because it was a classy affair. This was a night to impress her with his Limo, he felt.
He was a little older but she hadn't let that bother her. She wasn't quite sure how old he actually was, but what was the harm of a night out? She deserved it after all. She had the perfect red shoes to show off with her dress, and her newly cut bangs that framed her face nicely. He probably wouldn't recognize her.
Zipping her dress back up she put on a fresh coat of lipstick, a light sheen of gloss, enough to make those lips look entirely kissable. She made her way down the steps, giving her dad a wave and her mother a hug.
"Going out tonight after all," she chirped. She gave him specific and highly detailed directions. She was ready at the door when his limo pulled up.
John actually got out of the car to greet her, instead of getting his driver to open the door like he normally would have. First impressions were key.
"Good evening," he said, holding out a hand to take hers and kiss the back of it gracefully. "May I say, you look stunning. Are you ready?" He held the door of the car open for her to get in, and once she was in went round to his side and joined her.
"I am embarrassed to say that I don't have your name on my phone," he said, giving her a smile. "I just have your lovely face. Would you mind fixing it for me?" He held out his phone so she could put her name in properly. So he was complimenting her, vulnerable in admitting that he didn't know, open in letting her handle his phone, and showing her that he intended to keep her number. Calculated moves into winning her over tonight.
Her smile was big, wide as her face, showing off her cute dimples. Pulling her hair behind her ear she gave him a cute laugh and typed her name into his phone.
"Thank you," she said in reward to his compliment. "You're already trying to score the big points with those compliments." She straightened her face, trying to be serious but her smile gave her away. "It's working."
John actually meant it when he laughed and took his phone back. His heart missed a beat when he saw her name, and he glanced back at her, wondering for a moment if- but that wasn't possible. Nobody remembered his wives in the same way they did him and his brother.
"Isabelle. Beautiful," he said, his voice turning quite gentle for a moment, before he shook his head and put his phone in his pocket. He wasn't going to let this stop him from getting laid.
"It is my law firm's party tonight, so you know. I won't abandon you to the sharks- I mean, junior lawyers, don't worry. I am a good host when I put my mind to it. And most people will be drinking anyway. It doesn't worry you, going to a party with an almost-stranger?"
"Thank you. My mother's choice. You won't believe how many times I got picked on in school." She waved off, doing her best to be chatty without boring him.
"No. Not at all." She beamed another pretty smile. "As long as you know I know some karate," her chin tipped up. "I'm not just a pretty face." She couldn't stop looking at his incredible adorable baby face.
"You got picked on? Oh, I'm sorry. I know what that's like." John took the opportunity to hold her hand and give it a gentle squeeze of sympathy. How on earth was she so cute? Karate. Ha! "I bet you used your karate skills on the bullies, right?"
"A little. I'm the nerdy girl who does all her homework. The cheerleaders were so jealous." She laughed herself, that slightly loud laugh that carried a room without being annoying. She pretended not to notice as he grabbed her hand, putting her own on his shoulder with a gentle shove and a pout. "Oh yes. I put down all my secret moves!"
"I knew it." John grinned. He looked out the window as the car slowed, then turned to her. "We're here. Shall we?" Again, he got out of the car first and opened her door for her, holding out a hand to assist her to the pavement.
Those darling dimples once again adorned her face as she took his hand to steady herself in those fantastic shoes. She tugged on her dress, shifting it more comfortably. It accentuated her hips even though no leg was showing, it was a showpiece.
As they stepped into the light towards the building she noticed something against his face. "Hold on a minute," she paused, putting her fingers to his cheek to brush away some loose powder. Then she noticed the light bruising. "What happened to your face?" she sounded concerned.
John couldn't help double-taking at the length of her legs, and was happy to escort her in. A couple of other lawyers who were outside having a last cigarette before going in noticed them too.
"Oh, uh, nothing much. I got into it with my brother a bit. It's nothing really. You know what brothers are like," he said, trying to shrug it off. He'd tried to cover it up with a bit of powder, but he wasn't exactly practiced at such things so maybe he'd done it wrong. "I just didn't want it too obvious. It's not, is it?"
Isabelle pouted a little at that, and in the most demasking of manliness she pulled out her compact. "Here," she said just dabbing a few strokes with her powder sponge she covered up what she could.
"There. No one will notice." She whispered, curled her arm around his letting him usher her inside, careful not to trip up the steps.
John found himself smiling. People weren't kind and thoughtful to him very often, and perhaps (just perhaps) it was the douchebag exterior he presented, but he liked her regard, and he wanted her to like him. Walking into the function room at the hotel with her on his arm made him proud, and seeing the surprised and impressed looks on his colleagues was gratifying. He got her a drink, making sure to keep her close.
"So, do you have a nickname, Isabelle?" he asked, passing her a flute of champagne. "Are you an Izzy or a Belle or is it Isabelle all together?" He felt like he had to call her by her full name. Shortening the name didn't do her justice.
She wasn't a fan of people with their whispering gossip. It only breathed life to lies and stories, all far from the truth. So, she happily ignored any lingering questions to who she was to John on this night.
Gingerly she held the fluted glass, sipping it softly. She'd drink a little for appearance sake, but she knew she wasn't a big drinker. A couple of glasses was bound to make her a tad tipsy.
"Just Isabelle," she said with a pert smile. She'd been to these kind of functions before. It was all about show and tell, though she wasn't about to let John get away with just using her as a set piece if this evening went as well as she hoped.
John looked around for the senior partners in order to show off his new arm candy if he could. One or two of them he'd had dalliances with their wives in the past, so he'd have to be careful. Women got jealous so easily.
"Ah, Hobbs, are you having a nice night?" he said as one couple came to the refreshments table. He nodded to Jennifer, Hobb's wife, carefully maintaining distance.
"Perfectly well this evening thank you. Your eye is looking much better. You remember Jennifer?" Hobbs and his wive weren't holding hands or standing very close, but as John's smile grew a little strained and he had to acknowledge her properly, Jennifer slipped an arm through her husband's, and gave Isabelle a direct up and down glance. In the woman's head, this slip of a girl was no contest.
"Yes, how are you? This is Isabelle Darlington, who kindly agreed to be my date this evening," John replied, giving Isabelle an affectionate glance.
"Wherever did you find such a fresh faced girl?" Hobbs extended his hand in a polite greeting. Isabelle gave her best smile, a small curtsy, standing now a little closer to her date.
"Nice to meet you." It was hard to know what to say to people you knew nothing about. This wasn't like a charity function where they shared a common interest.
"Interesting name, Darlington. Is it British? You hardly seem to have an accent." The man asked, poking with his questions already as if she were fresh bait. She could feel the other woman's glances on her but she continued to hold her head high.
"Most definitely. The last time I was in England though I was two. My father could be the 145th Duke in line for King and you'd never know would you?" She was a tad snarky in her reply. Her way of saying, back off buddy, don't judge me.
John's brow twitched, amused. "Miss Darlington works for a few charities, helping children in need," he said. Jennifer's brow raised at that, but she didn't say anything. "How is your charity work going, Jennifer?"
"I am in between charities currently," she gritted out, tossing back her drink. "Isn't that Margaret and Daniel over there, honey?" She practically dragged Hobbs away from John, who shrugged to Isabelle.
"I am sorry about that. Some of the people here can be a little intrusive."
"In between charities?" Isabelle asked quirking one of her thin brows. "How does that work?" There was always something to be done, it sounded like a weak excuse to get out of the conversation. No sooner had she asked and the woman dug her heels into the ground somewhere else.
Isabelle sipped from her glass. She gave John a soft smile. "We do have a Duke in my family," she replied in a playful voice.
"It's okay. You get a little tough skinned when you're bullied in school and have a black belt. I'm a big girl." Hardly twenty, but she was tougher than she looked.
"Oh you do?" John looked at her, interested. "And how far from the English throne does that make you?" he went along with it, a little teasing. He'd finished his first glass of wine already, but he wasn't going to go overboard tonight. He nodded as another couple passed them.
"If I said second in line you might like me a little bit better," she gave him a flirtatious wink with her tease. Her father came from money but he was nowhere near any English throne.
She finished up her glass as well, setting it aside on the tray as a waiter passed by. It made her lips and fingers feel a little tingly. A little more in her she was bound to feel a tad lightheaded.
"Would you like another?" John asked, adding, "I'll be back," and going to fetch her something before she had a chance to respond.
"You're a little young for him, aren't you?" came a voice in Isabelle's ear. Jennifer had taken the opportunity and sidled close, her green eyes narrow with concealed envy. She'd clearly had a drink or two more than was good for her. "You can't give him what he needs. He needs a woman, not a child like you." She leaned back a little, making her ample chest and cleavage more pronounced.
The whisper made a chill shoot down her spine, whipping her head around over her shoulder to eye the suspicious woman. Was there something she was missing here? A reason that this woman had to be so nasty under those words?
Isabelle rolled her eyes shaking her head. "Honestly you have all the proper features to make any man drool, I know. I'm not going to be just a trophy on their arm." She had brains, she was smart and she did good things. "I'm not a child." She would never be treated as such even if she was still in her teens.
"You should run while you can. He's a bastard. He'll use you up and then spit you out." Jennifer was clearly torn between intense dislike and attraction. She was one of those women who was turned on by men who weren't the right sort of men. Unlike her husband, who was a nice sort of man, if a little distant. "He can and has done better." She tried to draw herself up smugly, inferring that she was that thing better.
"Jennifer, you came back," John said, passing Isabelle her drink and sliding an arm around her waist. Jennifer sneered at John, bitter and angry. "One too many drinks again? Go back to your husband, Jennifer," he said firmly, steering Isabelle away from her before she did or said something embarrassing.
Isabelle's mouth did hang open just a little. Rudeness was clearly hanging in the air. She didn't like being pushed around by people who thought they were better than someone else. It was an awful feeling, she'd been there before. Having money meant nothing even among the wealthy.
"If I had such a tongue on me, then I can see why." Her words were a bit more sharp this time. Nice girl or not she could be aggressive. This woman was playing tough but had nothing to back it.
Isabelle took her glass, still feeling that shiver down her spine. Her adrenaline was running a little with that wine in her system.
John threw Jennifer a dirty look, trying to lead Isabelle onto the balcony for some air. "I am so sorry about her. I think she has a bit of a drinking problem, but she managed to convince herself and she and I- but she's married, it wasn't going to happen. She didn't quite get over it," John said, rolling his eyes at pathetic Jennifer, who watched them go with baleful eyes. "I did not know she was going to be like that to you. I apologise profusely."
He'd said that word too many times that night already. As she was skirted away to the balcony the cool air hit her skin. She rubbed her arms after a few more little sips of the wine. Those big brown eyes were glued to that cute little face of his and those squishy cheeks.
Isabelle bit her lip with a tiny grin, hands holding his face while she gave him a kiss. The wine was definitely working on her system at least a little bit. Her kiss was pleasant, soft with a hint of her cherry flavored gloss.
"Sorry," she bit down on her lip again stepping back. "Had to do that."
"That- is quite alright." John smiled at her. "All is forgiven." He wanted to sweep her up in his arms and take her away immediately, but he thought somehow that she might object to that. Instead he bent to kiss her back, a little more lingeringly this time. He liked the feeling of holding her close like this.
"We will have to make the best of it," he said softly. "Not everyone I work with is like them. Some of them are passable."
She wasn't going to be like the Jennifer's who flaunted their assets and shoved them in his face. She was surprised when he kissed her again, but welcomed it with a small smile, her hands settled on his waist.
She was still within centimeters as his voice carried the air. "Okay," she touched his face softly, a small shiver hitting her, though it could have been the kiss as much as the cool air.
John felt assured of a victory tonight. She was pliant in his arms and she hadn't tried to force more explanation about Jennifer or anything else. He was certain she would agree to go home with him.
"Why don't we sit out here for a while?" he suggested, leading her to a bench to sit down. "We can get to know each other a little better without bitchy people interrupting. And perhaps... a kiss at midnight?" His smile was intimate, just for her, as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. See, he could be charming and thoughtful when he wanted to be.
What John may have seen as opportunity, Isabelle was just taking as honesty. How could she think he anything more than what face he was presenting. She saw some good qualities in that smile. It was the first time she gave him a shy smile, taking a seat and folding her arms over her chest. When he was seated she moved in close, tugging on his arm to brace around her shoulders.
"At least be a gentleman and keep a girl from catching cold," she scolded him playfully. She'd stay out here the entire night if he wanted to. It was a beautiful night, the perfect setting for the new year.
"I am so sorry, here." John took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders, then held her in close next to him. This night was probably the most he'd apologised all year. It was rather chilly out, but he was immortal and she was not. "What are your plans for the new year?" he asked, looking out across the city. "I bet you have big things in mind."
"Mmm," she hummed softly settling against his chest comfortably. The jacket was a nice addition, she warmed up quite quickly. She enjoyed the slightly subtle intimacy that had no expectations tied to it. Or so she thought. "College, or maybe traveling. I'd love to see more of the world. I don't remember what I did when I was two."
"Where would you go?" he asked, stroking down the side of her arm gently. "You could go anywhere, I suppose. Such freedom. I don't remember what I did when I was twenty-two, so I know how you feel."
"Ireland, England, maybe New Zealand. Anywhere really," she shrugged. She turned slightly, scrunching her nose at him. "How old are you exactly? You make it sound like you're fifty." She poked him softly with her elbow and settled back against him.
"Erh, I'm 32. Or something." He felt a bit envious of her ability to escape America. If he could go back to England permanently, he would. "I used to be quite the renegade in my younger days. My family is kind of wealthy and titled so I had a lot of freedom in some ways and none at all in others. It's lucky I'm alive at all in some ways, after my youth." He laughed a little.
Well, that hadn't been what she expected. "You're lucky you're adorable," she wiggled a little against him. "I'll be 20 in March." That was a good twelve year gap. She was certain her parents would be worried over the matter. "It must be nice," she teased, "to have such a young girl hanging off your arm."
"Titled?" she was curious now. Of course he was titled after the amount he gave at that gala. Not every man had that kind of money. It was nice to see someone else put it to use in a considerate way.
"Oh, I-" John stopped himself saying, "I've had younger" just in time. "-I don't think of you as that young. You're very mature." Wow. Hopefully that went down okay. "We're old British stock. Much like your duke." He smirked a little, teasing. "My brother is the inheritor though. I became a lawyer because I enjoy the workings of justice."
"Good. I don't think of me as young either," she grinned. She listened curiously. "That's the way of older siblings isn't it? I'm sure if I had one at least I'd have someone to look up to." She didn't understand John's dislike for his brother, she probably wouldn't unless she ever was around them both.
They talked a little more, time passed quite quickly, the moon in it's full glory. Fireworks going off somewhere in the distance, and voices chanting the countdown indicated the new year was fast upon them.
Someone to look up to? Maybe once, but that was a long time ago. John let himself forget all about that in talking to Isabelle, even forgetting the cold for a while. The countdown surprised him. He'd forgotten the time.
"We're here!" he said, standing up. He held her hand as they counted down together, and then as fireworks erupted and people inside cheered and let off streamers, he took her in his arms and kissed her firmly.
"Oh," she seemed as surprised. The last hour or so just flew by. He was warm and she enjoyed the conversation.
This time when they kissed she wasn't as tipsy. Her fingers threaded around his neck, nails lightly massaging into his short hair. His kiss was a little different than hers had been, it even made her cheeks turn a little pink.
She kissed very delightfully. John enjoyed dragging it out, arms around her waist.
"Come home with me," he murmured, fingers stroking her lower spine. "Lets forget these insects and sing with the stars instead."
And drag it out he did. She needed him to hang onto because she was sure her legs felt a little wobbly.
"Come home with you?" she asked a little surprised. She was a grown girl, her parents probably didn't expect her home, but that was beside the point. Yet, one look into his puppy dog eyes and she wasn't sure what to say.
"Yes. You're beautiful. I don't want to let go of you," John murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "And it's quite cold out here."
Her hands cradled his forearm, her wide brown eyes searching for an answer. She really didn't know what to give him. It was kind of adorable the way he asked her. She could easily call a cab and sock him in the crotch if he did anything funny. She'd warned him about her karate.
With a soft nod she agreed.
Getting Isabelle home was a process of making their way back through the hall, saying good bye, enjoying a last glass of wine, then stumbling out into the cold street to get in the car when it arrived. John made sure to be as caring and kind as possible, attentive and sweet. He lead the way up to his apartment, and by the time they got there it was pushing 2am.
"Well, this is it," John said, opening the door and showing her in.
She was still wearing his coat over her shoulders when they got inside his apartment. It was nice and warm so she slipped the coat off and handed it to him.
"It's very nice." She shouldn't have had that last glass of wine, she was already feeling a little tired. "I had a nice time," she grinned.
John took her coat and hung it up in his foyer. "I'm glad, me too," he replied, taking Isabelle's hand and leading her gently through to the living area. It was all rather posh and tastefully decorated, if I bit ostentatious. John liked shiny things.
"Would you like another drink?" he asked, pulling Isabelle in for another kiss to continue the mood.
"No more drinks," she waved politely sucked into his kiss the moment his lips touched hers. It kind of made her head go dizzy. She set her hands on his shoulders, feeling the warmth once again.
John was happy to hold her close, one hand on the small of her back, the other gently cradling her jaw and sliding gently down the side of her neck to slip the strap of her dress off her shoulder. He lead her over to the sofa and sat down pulling her into his lap. "Will you stay?" he asked, rubbing his thumb over the line of her collar bone.
She felt a little breathless, hardly able to say no just yet. He felt so warm. She curled into his lap, her fingers softly stroking his cheek. "Why do you want me to stay?" She asked in a whisper. His hands were warm, his kisses almost as pleading as his question.
Where John's hands were wandering over her dress might have been a bit of a clue, stroking down the front and down her thigh, searching for the hem so he could slide his hand up underneath. "I like your company," he replied, smiling a little.
"I do too." She stopped him in subtle protest, keeping his hands in one spot. She liked him, thought he was cute, but she wasn't going to sleep with him. Maybe one day, but not this soon. She was so tired. She cupped his face with her hands giving him a long, wanting kiss but rested her head on his shoulder.
John sort of froze, his hand on her knee, as she curled up against him. Oh, great. He'd thought this one was a home run and he hadn't even got to first base. He tried to shift a little, keeping his thighs pressed together so she wouldn't notice how much he wanted her right now. With a strained sigh, he cradled her against him, carefully tucking her hair off her face.
High school boyfriends hadn't exactly been the best example for her in physical relationships. Rush jobs just kind of made her a little wary. Not until she got to know him better. This was only the first date.
"I should go home," she said in a soft, sleepy voice. It was too late to go now, but she was going to let him know one way or another she hadn't come with the expectations of sleeping with him.
John sighed again, but this time it was one of resignation. "It's too late now, and impossible to get a cab on New Year's Eve. Stay." He managed to stand, picking her up with him, and carried her carefully to his bedroom. Resting her on the bed, he pulled a teeshirt out of his drawer and handed it to her. "Make yourself comfortable. I'll bring you some water," he said, and left the room so she could undress in private.
She nodded lazily waiting for the door to shut before she stood to kick off her shoes. It felt good to be out of heels. It took a little work to get her dress undone with tired fingers but proved successful. After slinking out of it she slipped on his shirt, wiggling it down over her thighs and curling up on the bed. She still felt a little dizzy.
John came back, glass of water and a couple of paracetamol tablets in hand. "Just in case," he said, putting them down on the side table. "If you take them before you sleep, you probably won't get a hangover. Are you comfortable?" He felt a little awkward, and pulled the duvet over her properly so she was warm.
She nodded in a murmer, snuggling under the blanket at the warmth. Her big brown eyes were just little half open slits as she sat up long enough for the water, curling the cover around her. She took the glass for a few swallows reaching in his hand for the tablets. She'd been drunk once before and she didn't like the results. She snuggled back down under the cover, fiddling around to take off her bra and letting it pool at the end of the he'd with her dress. It was only a few seconds after when her head hit the pillow that she fell asleep.
John put a hand to his forehead and put the glass back on the table, then left the room, closing the door gently behind him. He must be going soft or something, because he'd expected to get a little further than that. Maybe he'd forgotten that younger women were more self-conscious.
No, he wasn't going soft. He'd have to duck into the bathroom for ten minutes, the image of that bra in his head, before tucking himself in for the night on the sofa. He really must get around to clearing up the spare room.
Isabelle slept soundly up until the morning light started to creep through the window. She winced turning over so that her back faced the light, pulling the cover over her head. After a while though she couldn't stay asleep and she noticed that there was a distinct cologne that permeated the cover. She hopped up seeing her dress and bra at the foot of the bed and she gasped jumping out of the bed. Pulling the cover around her shoulders she looked around trying to remember what had happened. She was about to freak out, because she was in his shirt.
Running out of the bedroom she looked around frantically for John. Her heart was palpitating extremely hard, she was certain that tears were starting to hit her eyes. She hoped nothing happened but she couldn't remember anything after he'd brought her here.
John was in the kitchen, making coffee. He'd woken up early, out of habit of heading into the office. He wasn't going to wake Isabelle. She had been quite tipsy, and better to sleep that off.
The blanket he'd slept under lay in a heap on the sofa, along with his trousers. He stood at the coffee maker in an open shirt and boxer shorts, just watching the thing until it was done and would make him feel more alive.
The cover she held dropped to the floor. She didn't care that his shirt was just barely covered her thighs or that she may make him late to work. She was nervous as she inched closer into the kitchen. "Did anything happen?" She asked pointing back and forth between them.
"Hmm?" John looked up and blinked dozily. "When?" He turned to the kitchen table, taking the lid off a pot sitting on a coaster. "I made scrambled eggs, do you want some?"
"Last night," she looked at him and then at her, quickly covering her chest with her arms, "between us." She felt like she was about to panic.
John smirked a little and put some bread in the toaster, then went to Isabelle and kissed her cheek. "What do you take me for? Of course not. You were tired so I put you to bed. My spare room is... cluttered. Ah! Coffee's done. Do you want some?" He gave her a smile and went to fetch two mugs from the shelf.
She was still tense when he kissed her, but her heart finally started to drop in beats when he told her her suspicions were false. She was quiet for a moment, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear. "I....I didn't do anything stupid did I?" It was why she didn't really like drinking.
"I'm sorry, I just...." she shook her head. She really didn't have to explain to him, but she actually wanted to see him again if he was as good a gentleman as this.
"No sweetheart, you didn't. You said you'd come home with me and then practically fell asleep in my arms, it was quite angelic." John finished laying the table just as the toast popped, and then laid it out on a plate for her. "Coffee and scrambled eggs on toast. You'll feel better when you've eaten. Promise." He held the chair out for her to sit.
Her hand went to her chest as she let out a breath of relief. "Okay, I'm just not all that experienced." She squinted one eye and took a seat now feeling even more awkward for having said that. "I mean I've...I just wasn't ready...." she shook her head. She was getting overly chatty because she was nervous. "Nevermind." He wouldn't want to see her again if she kept talking like this. The twelve year difference was definitely going factor into it, but she decided she wasn't going to let it.
She took the cup of coffee and clasped it between her hands, letting it cool before taking a few sips. There was nothing like a fresh cup of coffee in the morning.
John's brows rose slightly, but he wasn't immensely surprised. Still, that made the challenge that much more enticing. And she did look completely fuckable in his teeshirt. He seated her in the chair, then bent to kiss her lips this time, guiding her chin up to meet him with one hand. He could taste the fresh coffee on her mouth.
"When you are ready, we can do things. Just let me know," he said, fingers brushing across the back of her neck as he pulled away to sit down to his own breakfast. "You look gorgeous this morning, by the way." He couldn't help glancing at her figure, but tried to disguise it by reaching for the knife to butter his toast.
A light ring of blush tinted her cheeks, a new shiver shooting down her spine at his gentle touches. She nodded not going into anymore of that story, it might ruin what little interest he had.
"What? No. I'm a mess." She was sure she had dark circles under her eyes where her make-up had worn off through the night. Her hair was still up, just soft tendrils hanging loose from it's updo.
John just smiled, amused. He'd have her knickers off within a month, or he wasn't king of England. Within a couple of weeks, if he was lucky. Depended on how nervous she got.
"Don't be silly. Now, did you have places to be today? I can call the car around to drive you anywhere you want to go. I ah- I also took the liberty of ordering a change of clothes for you. I hope you don't mind. It should be here soon."
She was glad he didn't mention anymore on the topic, it made her settle down a bit. She wiped her mouth politely with a napkin, biting into the breakfast he'd prepared.
"You're not half bad as a cook," she teased finally giving him that cheerful smile. "Oh, no, I hadn't thought of going anywhere. It's Sunday isn't it. Do you?" If she could corral him into coming with her, they could talk more minus wine.
"I like cooking sometimes," John replied. "And no, I don't. My mother isn't speaking to me due to-" he indicated his eye, "so I am free. Work is closed. Ah-" He rose as there was a knock at the door, and returned a minute later.
"I wasn't sure what you'd like. I looked at your size from your dress, I hope you don't mind." He held out two dress bags, putting aside a box containing matching black brogues and woolen tights. "I have grey and black. There's a woolen coat too." John may have been bratty and proud, but he did have excellent taste.
She turned to look at the door, surprised when he returned. She must have not been paying attention when he said he'd ordered her clothes, she was thinking something simple like jeans and a t-shirt. She was surprised to see what he'd actually managed to pick up.
"You picked this out?" she asked already fallen in love with the black outfit. The coat was equally gorgeous. Not many men had good fashion sense, no straight men anyway.
"Yes, is it alright? I didn't want anything too low cut for you, since it is winter. Take them both, they're for you. And this box has shoes and tights and, ah, a change of underthings. I hope you don't think me too presumptuous." John indicated the box. "But you can finish breakfast before getting dressed. No rush." He set the garments down carefully, and then went to sit down and finish his food, buttoning up his shirt as he went, realising he was still kind of walking about in his underpants and socks.
"It's gorgeous," she said with a little giggle, standing and putting it up against her. So far he was proving to be quite the sweetheart. She sat back down finishing up her food and coffee. "Thank you."
Once she was done she took her things back to the room to get ready. Luckily she still had her little satchel she'd used for her purse that had the necessities. Lipstick, phone and wallet. She washed up, changed, liking the way the shoes made her legs look even taller. She put her dress from the previous evening in the empty dress back, coming back out with everything packed away.
John took the opportunity to quickly shower and dress in grey slacks and a shirt with suspenders. He looked far more presentable, and also smelled a lot better. He was combing his hair back off his face as Isabelle came out again.
"I knew you'd look beautiful in that," he said, satisfied. She looked happy too, much better than the worry that had been on her face earlier. Happy girls were easy to deal with. He didn't like unhappy girls. The shrieking was just tiresome.
She felt a lot better. She'd tousled her hair down, running a hand through it at the compliment. "You don't look too bad yourself," she winked.
"So where are we going on this beautiful day?"
If it were up to John, they would be going back to bed. Instead he shrugged. "A walk might be nice." If there were other people around him, he'd find it easier to keep his hands to himself.
Slipping on the white coat he'd also picked out she held out a hand to pull him towards the door. "Let's go then. Your points are adding up," she raised one brow with amusement.
"I have points now?" John asked, amused. Isabelle was turning out to be rather adorable. He took her hand and they walked out of the apartment building, hand in hand. John felt rather youthful, holding hands with someone and walking down the street. It was still quite cold out, and holding her hands was a way of warming them.
"Of course," she said wrinkling her nose. Her smile grew, drawing no attention to his hand holding, she simply kept walking. It was beautiful out. There were a few dark clouds hoovering, but the sun stayed bright.
"Just because you're cute doesn't mean you get to slide by easy." She peaked at him over her shoulder.
"I wasn't aware I saw sliding by at all," John said. "So tell me, what are you going to do this year? Big plans for the charity?" There weren't many people about. John liked it being a little quieter.
"You've made some good impressions." She squeezed his hand lightly. It was quiet, most people were probably suffering hangovers. "Hmmm. My parents would like me to look at colleges, but I'd like to decide if I go or not on my own. There are a few charities lined up in the next few months."
She stopped, slowing yer pace by taking slower steps and onger strides. "How about you?"
"Keep working I suppose. My office is doing very well and I finally have a competent assistant, so things are looking up. You could go to Columbia, that wouldn't require you going far, but at least you won't have to decide until August. That's plenty of time to try new things, don't you think? If you need a job somewhere, I can pull some strings." John was beginning to have fun with this girl. The period of courtship before bedding her might not be so painful after all.
"Did you have an incompetent one before?" She smiled at his offer. "Columbia is a good choice, ill have to think about it." Eyes lit up at the prospect of a job. She had no problems getting her hands dirty. "What kind of job?" She loosened her hand and wrapped an arm around his.
"Any kind. Office job, law intern, data entry, hospitality; what are you good at? I have fingers in many pies to call in a favour." John covered Isabelle's hand with his own on his arm. "You'd be surprised how difficult it is to find a decent assistant. I imagine you'd be good at it- but I'd find that far too... distracting." John's expression turned salacious a moment, and he winked at her.
"I'm good at anything I set my mind to. Give me a task and I'll become an expert! I'm a master typist." That light ring of blush hit her cheeks, with a giant smile. She nudged him with her shoulder. "Well, Mr. Haveland, I can take that as a compliment."
John's lips twitched as his mind took his words a step further, but he didn't say anything to embarrass her. "Of course it's a compliment. If I had you around all the time I'd barely be able to do any work." He pressed a kiss to the side of her head.
"So, is it just you in your family then? With your parents? No siblings to distract from your every wish?"
He was being adorable, she was all but glowing at the attention. She couldn't wipe that smile off her face. Leaning her head on his shoulder she slowed in her pace even. This was nice.
"Yes, just me. I have no brothers or sisters. Lots of cousins though."
"Lucky. Cousins are far easier to avoid." John pulled a face. "I don't even remember who mine are." He shrugged, pausing to look in a shop window at the suits on display. He could see their reflection in the glass, and he smiled.