Fifty Days of Sin by Serena Dahl Read Free Book Online

reaction to his touch.
    I’m glad I made an effort with
my outfit. After a huge amount of deliberation, I opted for a black
pencil skirt, not too short, but not too long either, and a sheer
black blouse. I carefully selected a black bra with lace cups to
wear underneath, so that Adam would get a glimpse of pretty
underwear through my top. To match the bra, I’m wearing my
favourite black knickers. I seem to remember an ex fondly
nicknaming them my ‘sexy pants’. Lastly, my sexy-but-classy heels
from L K Bennett. Sexy but classy is, in fact, the look I’ve aimed
for tonight, so I finished it off with careful, but not too
obvious, makeup. I focussed on my eyes with gel eyeliner, mascara,
smoky grey eye shadow, and then I used an old favourite lipstick
that’s close to the real colour of my lips. A brush of glow on my
cheekbones finished the look. I hadn’t spent so long getting ready
for a date in years.
    In the days before our date, I
cut down my portion sizes and made sure I went easy on my salt
intake, but in the interests of my wellbeing I resisted the
temptation to crash diet. I seem to have lost a couple of pounds
anyway, probably because the lower sodium diet has reduced my fluid
retention, so that’s good enough for me.
    Adam is looking gorgeous,
dressed in dark jeans and a pale blue shirt. I want to reach out
and touch him. I want to run my hands through his unruly light
brown hair, trace my fingers down to his collarbone, unbutton that
crisply ironed shirt. But instead I sit opposite him, making
conversation, and yearning for some physical contact.
    I made sure I didn’t break my
own code of conduct last night, telling myself it would not be fair
to cancel seeing Edward, so we had our long-postponed date at last.
But the attraction I felt for him previously had dissipated. For
the first time in a long while, I went home alone after a brief
kiss and nothing more. I think Edward assumed that I still hadn’t
recovered completely from my accident, and wasn’t well enough for
the physical side of things yet. It was, perhaps, convenient to let
him believe that – I had no wish to hurt him.
    But of course, the reason is
Adam.
    We order dessert and I cannot
resist the chocolate pot with salted caramel. Adam chooses the
treacle tart and tells me about his mother’s world-beating recipe
for the same dish, painting a picture of his family life in
childhood with a fondness that makes me think how nice it would be
to meet his parents. He is the baby of the family with two older
brothers, George, the eldest, and Clive, the middle child; the
sibling rivalry he describes sounds friendly enough to me – they
seem to be on good terms. George was married recently, and a few
weeks before the wedding Adam went to Barcelona for the stag
night.
    His description
of the outfit they made George wear has me in stitches. Poor guy –
they dressed him as a woman, and he even had a long blonde wig. I
can just imagine the leg hairs poking out of the holes in his
fishnet stockings. Honestly, the things men do to each other on
their stag nights. Hen nights make me cringe too - the way women
get dressed up with L-plates and necklaces with penis pendants. Not
my kind of look at all. Good thing I’m
never intending to get married , I think to
myself.
    Adam finishes
his dessert and admits that it’s almost – almost – as good as his
Mum’s.
    “High praise,” I grin at
him.
    “And how was your chocolate
thing?”
    “Lovely. As you can probably see
by the fact that I’ve eaten every single tiny trace of it.”
    “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’ve
wanted to treat you to something nice ever since I got you run
over.”
    “You don’t still feel bad about
that, do you?” I ask with a rising blush. By discussing this, we’re
acknowledging to each other that I was so mesmerised by the sight
of Adam that I completely lost my head. It’s a little embarrassing.
“You know it wasn’t your fault really. I should have been