Fancy Pants by Susan Elizabeth Phillips Read Free Book Online Page A

neglected to wear a blouse beneath the deep
open V of the wasp-waisted jacket, and the insides of her
seventeen-year-old breasts curved enticingly above the spot where the
lapels joined. The effect became all the more alluring because of her
short Twiggy hairstyle, which made her look rather like London's most
erotic schoolboy.

"Well, if it isn't my little princess." The sonorous voice rang out in
perfect pear-shaped tones designed to be heard in the far reaches of
the National Theatre. "It appears she's all grown up and ready to take
on the world."

Except for watching him in the Bullett spy films, she had not seen Evan
Varian for years. Now, as she spun around to face him, she felt as if
she were confronting his on-screen presence. He wore the same
immaculately fitted Savile Row suit, the same pale blue silk shirt and
handmade Italian shoes. Silver had threaded his temples since their
last encounter on board the Christina, but now his hair lay
conservatively tamed to his head by an expert razor cut.

Her date for the evening, a baronet home on holiday from Eton, suddenly
seemed as young as milk-fed veal. "Hello, Evan," she said, giving
Varian a smile that managed to be both haughty and bewitching.

He ignored the obvious impatience of the blond fashion model draped
over his arm as he surveyed Francesca's scarlet velvet trouser suit.
"Little Francesca. The last time I saw you, you didn't have so many
clothes on. As I remember, you were wearing a nightgown."

Other girls might have blushed, but other girls didn't have Francesca's
bottomless self-confidence. "Really? I've forgotten. Amusing of you to
remember." And then, because she had quite made up her mind to catch
the grown-up interest of this most sophisticated Evan Varian, she
nodded at her escort
and permitted him to lead her away.

Varian called her the next day and invited her to dine with him.
"Certainly not," Chloe shrieked, jumping up from her lotus position in
the center of the drawing room carpet where she dabbled at meditation
twice a day, except on alternate Mondays when she had her legs waxed.
"Evan is more than twenty years older than you, and he's a notorious
playboy. My God, he's already had four wives! I absolutely won't have
you involved with him."

Francesca sighed and stretched. "Sorry, Mummy, but it's rather a fait
accompli. I'm smitten."

"Be reasonable, darling. He's old enough to be your father."

"Was he ever your lover?"

"Of course not. You know the two of us never got on."

"Then I don't see what possible objection you could have."

Chloe begged and pleaded, but Francesca paid no attention. She had
grown tired of being treated like a child. She was ready for adult
adventure—sexual adventure.

A few months beforef she had made a great show out of insisting that
Chloe take her to the doctor for birth control pills. At first Chloe
had protested, but she had quickly changed her mind when she had
stumbled upon Francesca in a heated embrace with a young man who was
pushing his hand under her skirt. Ever since, one of those pills
appeared on Francesca's breakfast tray each morning to be swallowed
with great ceremony.

Francesca had told no one that the pills had so far proven unnecessary,
nor had she let anyone see how her continued virginity upset her. All
of her friends spoke so glibly about their
sexual experiences that she was terrified they would find" out she was
lying about her own. If anyone discovered what an absolute infant she
was, she was absolutely certain she would lose her standing as the most
fashionable member
of London's trendy younger set.

With stubborn determination, she reduced her youthful sexuality to a
simple matter of social position. It was easier for her that way, since
social position was something she understood, while the loneliness
produced by her abnormal childhood, the aching need for some deep
connection with another human being, only bewildered her.

However, despite her determination to lose her virginity, she had