Escaping A Royal Wedding (12 page)

Holding her still, Erik kissed her one last time. “Good. I’m making you chicken parmesan.’

“You’re cooking?” she asked, sliding onto the seat but staying near him. He wouldn’t have allowed her to move too far away, but she didn’t want to so she was fine with his arm around her shoulders and the right side of her body being heated with his. “I mean, I know you said you were taking me back to your place to cook for me but I didn’t think you were really going to
cook
! I didn’t know men knew how to cook,” she laughed.

He threw back his head and laughed at her sexist statement. “I like it once in a while. But I don’t have the time to do it very often.”

She watched him carefully. “Okay, admit it, you have someone prepare everything for you and you just put it together. Right?”

Erik smiled at her perceptiveness. “I admit to nothing, woman. Be kind or you’ll have to starve.”

Ana laughed at his grim, teasing expression. “Ah, I wouldn’t want to starve tonight. I’m already hungry. What else are you cooking for me?” She was amazed at how comfortable, and yet uncomfortable, this dynamic man made her feel.

“What else would you like?”

Ana licked her lips and considered his question. “How about Caesar salad, warm bread, and chocolate mouse for dessert with a raspberry sauce, warmed slightly with a dollop of whip cream on the top?”

Erik laughed. “How about a garden salad, I can probably manage the warm bread and whatever my cook made for dessert?”

Ana laughed with him, delighted that he had admitted that his cook had prepared everything else. “Sounds delicious,” she said.

They were pulling into an underground parking lot and Ana looked around, curious about where this man lived. She didn’t want to delve into the reasons she was so curious about him. Ana just wanted to live for the moment and experience everything he could show her.

He opened the door and held out his hand to help her out. They rode up a private elevator and were almost instantly in his penthouse suite. She peered around and nodded in satisfaction. “Very masculine,” she said, noting the dark colors and comfortable furniture.

Erik walked over to the fireplace and pressed a button. Instantly a fire started crackling, the flames licking the air as they slowly heated the area. A few more buttons and some music started playing, the sound coming from several directions all at once, surrounding the two of them in an intimate, romantic setting.

“Come into the kitchen and watch me cook,” he said and took her hand, leading the way to the kitchen. He pulled out a cushioned stool and lifted her into the seat, his hands sliding down her hips and along her legs, ending sensuously at her ankles. Ana held her breath, the waves of excitement coursing through her, ending in the pit of her stomach.

She was speechless as she watched him walk behind the counter. He expertly uncorked a bottle of red wine and poured her a glass, then pulled several items out of the shiny, black refrigerator. The kitchen had brick walls with black appliances, mellow wood cupboards and black, granite counters. Apparently Erik cooked often enough to be very familiar in the kitchen.

“How many times have you cooked for another woman here?” she asked, not liking the jealousy she was feeling. He certainly had this planned out and she assumed he’d been through the routine before.

Erik tossed down his knife and came around the counter to face her again. He put one hand on each side of her chair and stared down at her intently. “I’ve never cooked for another woman. You’re the first,” he said.

Ana looked at his face and realized he was telling the truth. “Thank you,” she said.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I can assure you that I’ve been initiated into several aspects of a relationship that I’ve never encountered before.”

“Well, then, we’re both in the same place,” she said, her eyes dropping to his chin.

He lifted her face up so she was looking at his eyes again. “I know you’ve never been with another man before. I promise that you won’t regret your decision tonight,” he said intently.

“I know,” she said and smiled timidly.

He nodded, satisfied that they understood each other. “Good,” he said and went back to the other side of the counter and continued cooking. He placed the chicken breasts on the pan of hot oil, added crushed garlic and several other spices she didn’t recognize.

“Tell me what you did today?” he asked as he sautéed the chicken breasts, meticulously dropping them into the pan without splattering any of the hot oil.

Ana sipped her wine, loving the way his hands handled the preparations with confidence and flair. “I visited the botanical gardens, had lunch with my mother and sister, then the three of us attended several meetings with lots of little old ladies with blue hair.”

Erik laughed. “That sounds incredibly dull.”

She laughed along with him and nodded her agreement. “They all have their ambitions, even when they are talking at the same time, which happened several times during the meal. What did you do?”

He turned the perfectly browned chicken over. “I met with several bald men about issues they wanted to discuss with me and imagined what you looked like without any clothes on,” he said and leered across the counter at her.

Ana laughed. “That doesn’t sound very productive,” she replied.

“Depends on what you consider productive.” He took a long sip of the wine, maintaining her gaze over the rim of the glass.

“Okay,” she said, feeling herself blush as he held her eyes. “Good point. Where did you learn to cook?” She thought it would be a better idea to change the subject.

“Don’t I look like a man born in the kitchen?” he teased.

She smiled. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine you standing next to your mother or father, learning all the intricacies of cooking,” she said.

He smiled back at her. “Okay, it was the cook and not my parents.”

She was surprised and curious. “How did you get your cook to teach you? Mine would have swiped my hands with a wooden spoon and pushed me out of the kitchen if I’d had the audacity to even enter her domain.”

He grimaced but laughed. “That sounds harsh.”

“It was. I was a very abused daughter,” she said, pretending to be upset.

He chuckled. “You look very abused,” he said, his eyes skimming over her beautiful shining hair and sparkling green eyes.

They talked about their childhoods while he cooked and Ana was impressed when he finally placed perfectly cooked pasta on the plate, then topped it off with the cheesy, breaded chicken breasts. A salad was already prepared so they sat down to dinner in the dining room, which had been set for the night with a linen table cloth, candles and white roses mixed in with white baby’s breath.

She took her first bite and closed her eyes, impressed with his culinary skill. “This is delicious,” she said, savoring the wonderful, tangy taste of the meal. “I’m impressed. You really can cook!”

He looked at her askance. “Of course I can. I’m wounded that you would doubt my culinary abilities.”

“No doubt anymore,” she said and they ate, joked and laughed throughout the whole meal. Ana loved being with this man who could turn a regular meal into an enjoying pastime.

Even though she laughed at all his stories, there was an underlying current that continuously passed between them. For Ana, she knew it was an awareness that he would soon take her into his arms and make love to her. That realization both terrified and excited her. She wanted it to happen soon or she knew she’d just burst into flames.

Once the meal was over, he pulled her into his arms, but only to dance, which Ana was grateful for, since it helped ease her awkwardness.

They danced to the soft music, swaying gently in each other’s embrace and Ana loved being in his strong, muscular arms that held her gently. He didn’t apply any pressure to move any faster, apparently content to just move along with her, their bodies creating the friction that only enhanced the sexual tension.

Eventually, he bent down and kissed her, gently, slowly, thoroughly and Ana knew that the waiting was finally over. It was odd, but now that the moment had arrived, she wasn’t nervous anymore. She was secretly thrilled that she would be initiated by this man instead of the stranger who would eventually become her husband.

He picked her up in his arms and Ana held onto him by wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, already knowing the answer but feeling the need to speak for some reason.

“I’m taking you to bed,” he said without hesitation. “Do you mind?”

“Absolutely not,” she replied.

He set her down beside the bed and looked down at her lovely face. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, giving her one more chance to back out.

“Yes. I’m sure,” she said, smiling up at his handsome face. She reached up and touched his cheek, noting the way his eyes flared with her words.

“Thank goodness. I don’t know what I would have done if you’d said no,” he laughed and bent down to kiss her. The kiss again flared out of control and Ana gripped the lapels of his coat, hanging on with every thread of her being.

One of his hands slipped behind her and found the zipper to her dress, slowly sliding it downward as his lips kissed her neck, her ear, his teeth nuzzled the shell of her ear and the lobe. With a single motion, he pulled the dress off, letting it pool around her feet as she stood there in her thigh high stockings and matching bra and underwear.

Erik looked at her, his breath caught in his throat. “You’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely.

“Not fair,” she said and her hands reached up to his, her fingers shaking as she pulled at his tie, clumsily trying to pull it loose. He reached up to help her but she shook her head. “No, please, let me do this,” she said eagerly. Taking a deep breath, she concentrated on her task and slowly, the knot came undone. She dropped the piece of silk to the floor and instantly started working on the buttons to his shirt, licking her lips as skin appeared after each button was opened. Finally, she pulled it free of his pants and tossed it to the side.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, her eyes never leaving his chest.

Erik chuckled and pulled her close, his hands gently laying her on the bed. “A man isn’t supposed to be beautiful,” he admonished.

“Sorry,” Ana said, watching as his hands slid down her stocking clad leg, ending with her shoe which he tossed behind him. He reached for the other leg and did the same, discarding her stockings as well.

A moment later, he tossed his slacks and boxer shorts behind him, watching as she took her fill of his hard body, throbbing in anticipation of their mating.

He dropped down onto the bed beside her, letting her get used to the feeling of their skin touching.

“Can I touch?” she asked, looking up at him worriedly.

“Please do,” he said and bent down to kiss her neck. His lips moved over her shoulder as his hand slid up her hip and waist. “I intend to,” he said and his hand moved to her back and expertly unclasped her bra. With a small movement, the tiny piece of fabric was discarded.

Ana tried to hide herself from his view but he shook his head. “Don’t,” he groaned and held her hands to her sides as his mouth moved to nuzzle her breast, moving around and kissing, nibbling, teasing her breast, finally reaching the nipple that was already hard and waiting for his tender ministrations.

The heat building inside Ana was unfamiliar and she was writhing under his expert hands that knew exactly where to touch in order to spark her desire to a higher level. When his mouth finally closed over the nipple, she gasped and arched her back, her hips moving against his in an unknown message.

Erik removed her underwear with one hand while his mouth moved to the other breast. As soon as she was completely naked, his body moved over hers, his mouth moving downward and he searched out the other places on her body that would elicit the same responses. He wasn’t disappointed. Her waist and navel were instantly favorite places on her body but he wanted more. He moved lower, knowing this was her first time and wanting it to be perfect. Her legs were clasped together but as his hand moved to her knees, drawing circles on the outside, they slowly moved inside and her body opened for him.

He could smell her arousal and almost lost his control, needing to pour himself inside her but he held back, loving the way her body continued to respond despite her shyness. “Open for me, Annie,” he said and watched as she closed her eyes and relaxed her legs. “You won’t regret it.” His mouth found her center, his tongue moving inside and tasting her, watching her movements still. But within seconds, she was moving again, arching against him. Her hands both pulling at his hair and holding his head in place for more tantalizing movements from his mouth. When his tongue flicked her nub, she cried out again, her back arching and her eyes squeezing shut. “No more!” she cried out, but he wouldn’t stop. Slowly, with just one finger, he slid inside her, watching her face as her body closed around his finger. Her mouth formed an “O” as she discovered what it was like to have something invade her softness. His mouth returned and he flicked his thumb against her nubbin, then soothed it with his tongue and with that small pressure, she tumbled over into oblivion, her cries reaching his ears like tonic to a tortured soul.