“That works. I’m only old enough to be your father, not your grandfather.” Nigel had been ten years older than she was. Older men didn’t scare her. In fact, she liked them, and sometimes thought she had more in common with them, except for Sam, who was her family and wise for his years, as she was. Even Ed had seemed immature to her at times, and irresponsible. “Where should we go to dinner? I know a hamburger joint nearby. The burgers are pretty good.”
It turned out to be an American style diner she’d never heard of, and the burgers were delicious. She had come in a cab, and they walked to the restaurant, with Bruce loping along beside Ian.
They had a great time talking over dinner, about Marrakesh and Tangiers, and some of his other travels. He had loved Turkey too. He admitted that it was hard to settle down in the States after that.
“I’m a nomad. But I have to say the tent you found for me is the nicest one I’ve ever had. The guy who lives there is great. It was fun looking him up in Rome and having dinner in his restaurant. He’s cool.” And so was Ian. Almost too cool. She thoroughly enjoyed her evening with him.
He sent her home in a cab, as she mulled over the evening, and called her two days later.
“Are you ready for another burger? They’ve been driving me crazy on the set, with a bunch of divas. I need to talk to a sane person. You’re the only one I know here.”
“I’m flattered. I’d love it.” They went to his house afterward, and it looked even better with some of his own things spread around here and there. Their age difference didn’t bother her, and he was fascinating to talk to. His mind raced at a million miles an hour, and she was breathless listening to him.
They started seeing each other two or three times a week after that, for coffee or a drink, or dinner. He cooked her a Moroccan meal at his house one night, and it was exquisite, lamb and couscous with delicate spices. She noticed that he drank very little, which surprised her. He went to the gym at five o’clock every morning, and was in remarkable shape.
The first time he kissed her in May, she was six months pregnant, and he didn’t seem to care. She was self-conscious about it, and he said he thought she was beautiful, and the baby didn’t bother him, as long as he didn’t have to bring it up or deal with it as a teenager, which made her laugh. Their lovemaking was as easy and natural as though they had always been together. She spent several nights with him, and then he came to her house, and was stunned by how huge it was.
“Was this place your husband’s idea?” he asked her and she nodded. “I thought so. It doesn’t look like you. This house is going to give you a lot of trouble,” he warned her. “It’s going to attract all the wrong guys like bees to honey. It screams money. You should tell them you’re housesitting. If they know it’s yours, you’re going to have every fortune hunter in London on your doorstep.”
“I know. I married one of them,” she said simply.
She didn’t have to worry about it with Ian. He was one of the most successful writers in the world. And she loved being with him. She kept reminding herself not to fall in love with him, or she’d get hurt. He didn’t promise her any kind of future or even suggest it. He lived in the moment, but he was so sexy and smart and easy to be with. She was falling in love with his mind, and he was happy with her.
In June, he warned her that he was going to start writing and he would disappear for a while. Things had calmed down on the movie set. He didn’t know when he’d surface again, and told her that sometimes it took months. He could never predict it. He was at the mercy of the book he was writing.
“At least I warn people now. I used to just disappear and surface six months later, and everyone was pissed.”
“I’ll miss you,” she said softly, and he wagged a finger at her.
“Don’t. I’ll miss you too, but that’s not what I’m about. I come and go,