She tenses a little and I move the brush back up to her scalp and run it from the crown of her head to the base of her neck until she relaxes again.
‘You know, I think I freaked out so badly because I was afraid you might expect me to do sexual things with you in front of all those people,’ she says in a small voice.
I stop what I’m doing and get up from the sofa, moving to sit in front of her instead so I can look into her eyes.
‘That’s not why I took you in there, I swear. I genuinely thought you might find it “fun and… er… sexy”.’ I flash her a humbled smile, hoping she’ll realise I’m referencing the first awkward conversation we’d ever had about sex. That I’m suggesting we’re both as bad as each other.
I’m relieved to see her smile back, even if it is a little restrained.
I rub my hand over my face, wishing I could take tonight back and start again. So much for my reputation as a world-class seducer of women.
‘It’s not that I didn’t find it sexy, exactly,’ she murmurs. ‘I was just surprised by how full-on it was.’
I nod. ‘I guess I’m a bit desensitised to how extreme that place would seem to the uninitiated. But we don’t have to go anywhere like that again,’ I promise her. ‘And from now on I want you to tell me immediately if something makes you feel uncomfortable. Communication is really important. I want you to feel safe and in control, okay?’
‘You still want to help me?’ she asks, sounding surprised.
I stare at her, dumbfounded. ‘Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?’
Her shrug is awkward. ‘I don’t know. I guess I thought you’d be disappointed with me for being such a wimp and not want me here any more if I’m not going to be any fun.’
‘I don’t think you’re a wimp, Juno.’ I lift my hand to her face and smooth my thumb over the soft skin of her cheek. ‘I just think we need to take some time to get to know each other. To figure each other out. What I really need is for you to be open and truthful with me when we’re in bed.’
‘I’ll try, but I don’t think I’m going to be good at sexy talk.’ She glances down and frowns at her hands which are so tightly linked in her lap the tendons are standing out.
‘It doesn’t have to be sexy. It has to be honest. If you don’t want to do something, or don’t like something, you have to say so. Don’t do it just to try and make me happy or to spare my feelings.’
I feel her begin to tremble under my touch and I can see from the fast tick of the vein in her throat that she’s nervous.
‘We’ll only go as far as you’re comfortable with. And we’ll take it slow.’
‘In the interest of being honest, I have to tell you… I’m nervous about how inexperienced and…ordinary… you’re going to find me,’ she blurts, colour rising to her cheeks. ‘I know the kind of women you usually date and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to compare favourably to them.’
I shake my head, mystified that she’d be concerned about that. ‘Juno, you’re a very attractive woman with an incredible body.’
She won’t look at me now though and just shakes her head.
‘What happened to you to make you doubt how fuckingsexyyou are?’ I ask.
‘I’m sure you don’t have any experience of being made a fool of, but it strips you of your confidence,’ she says quietly.
‘Who made a fool of you?’
There’s a small pause before she answers. ‘My first boyfriend, when I was sixteen.’
She lets out a long-suffering sigh.
‘I’d had men trying to get close to me before I met him – because of my family name and the attention it brings – but I genuinely thought Malcolm liked me forme. He was twenty-three and seemed so mature and cultured. He was also really possessive and attentive, telling me all the time how beautiful he thought I was. And even though I know I’m no real beauty I lapped it up. I really needed to believe it at that point in my life.
‘Truthfully, I’d taken my mother’s death really hard, and he seemed so understanding about how hollow and lost I felt. Like he understoodmeand had my back. That he cared. He seemed so sincere. And I… believed at that point I was in love with him. I planned on losing my virginity to him. I thought what we had was real, you see, and I wanted to trust him with it, to prove to him how much I cared about him too. But then I found out from a friend that he was only dating me because I’m a Darlington-Hume.’
She pulls a disgusted face. ‘She overheard him talking about the sacrifice he was making being with the runt of the litter instead of someone “more in his league”, like one of my sisters. He told his friends he was “taking one for the team” by pretending to be in love with me so he could reap all the privileges that come with my family name – to benefit both himself and them, if they were nice to him. It was all a power trip. He thought being with me would open all sorts of doors for him. Once I started asking around about him, it turned out that pretty much everyone knew he was like this, except for gullible old me.’ She shakes her head. ‘I was utterly heartbroken and it put me off dating for a long time.’
‘What a prick!’ I say roughly, furious on her behalf. I know exactly the type of guy she’s describing – someone who’s happy to wreck a woman’s self-esteem just to get ahead.
I try not to think about the fact I’m also using her for her name right now. It’s not as if we’re in a relationship and I’m pretending to be something I’m not – or to care about her more than I do. This is an entirely different scenario. No one’s going to get hurt here.
I watch her playing with the cord of the dressing gown as she continues to speak. ‘I’ve never had a lot of confidence in my looks. Somehow, I ended up with the trifecta of bad luck in that department in my teens. After my mother died, I started comfort eating and put on a lot of weight. Then my face broke out in acne. Basically, I was an overweight, spotty redhead and I got bullied a lot at school by some of the other girls. And then, later, by the press. Journalists seemed to love drawing unfavourable comparisons between my sisters and me. You’ve met them, right? They’re beautiful – knockout beautiful – and so confident with it. I’m just not like that, no matter how hard I try to be.’