Her Enemy, Her Lover

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Her Enemy, Her Lover Page 9

by Elizabeth Lennox


  Lana sighed, overwhelmed by the reality of her predicament. She hadn’t even though about the cash-up-front issue. She’d actually been depending on using credit to keep the business running. “Well, when you put it that way!” she replied, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

  He chuckled but reached across the table, taking her hand in hers. “Lana, you don’t need to fear me.”

  She wanted to curl her fingers away from his touch, once again startled by the heat coming from him. “Everyone else in the world fears you, Christoph. Why should I be special?”

  “You are in a unique position, Lana. Because you are my fiancée, you have absolutely no reason to fear me. And tomorrow you will be my wife, which will further protect you from harm.” His thumb rubbed over the pulse at her wrist and she knew that he could feel her heart pounding. “My wife will never have reason to fear me.”

  She pulled her hand free of his touch, because she was terrified of him. “That’s just the thing, Christoph. I am scared. I don’t want…I haven’t ever…”

  He waited patiently for her to continue, but she couldn’t finish. When she continued to hesitate, he leaned forward slightly, looking at her carefully. “You’ve never what?”

  She pressed her lips together, hating what she had to reveal. “Couldn’t we please just hold off on the intimate side of our relationship? I just need more time. I need to come to terms with everything that is coming at me and having to anticipate…intimacy…with you will only make me more nervous.”

  Christoph watched her carefully for a long moment, trying to understand what she wasn’t saying. Surely she wasn’t trying to tell him that she was a virgin. Not at her age. She was twenty-five years old! The possibility of her being innocent in the ways of sex at that age seemed…impossible! And yet, here she was, asking for more time.

  “How about a compromise?” he offered, even though his body was still aching to mate with hers.

  “A compromise?” she parroted. “What kind of a compromise?”

  “We won’t have sex until you are ready, but we don’t stop moving towards that goal.”

  Her head tilted thoughtfully. He suspected she didn’t give a damn about the second part of his comment. She was too focused on the first half, the “we won’t have sex” part.

  “Give me more information,” she said.

  Smart woman, he thought. She didn’t simply jump onto the agreement. She wanted details. Good for her! Not many business people slowed down enough to get into the details of a negotiation. Too often, novice business people jumped into an agreement as soon as their terms were offered, never paying attention to the fine print.

  He tugged her out of her chair, pulling her around the table. He settled her on his lap. She sat stiffly, not leaning into him in any way.

  With his hands resting lightly on her thighs and around her waist, he watched her as he stated, “We won’t have sex, but we will talk about it.”

  Immediately, Lana shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about sex,” she said and he almost laughed at her prim outrage.

  “Yes you do. The key to great sex is communication. You tell me what you like and don’t like when I touch you or kiss you.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Of course it is,” he argued. “And I’ll show you or tell you how I want to be touched. It’s how we learn about each other’s preferences, find out about our fantasies. What if I told you I wanted to string you up by your toes?”

  She pulled back and shot him an odd look. “You’re kidding, right?

  He laughed softly, and pulled her closer. “Yes, but you’re proving my point. I’d love to hear what turns you on late at night, what you dream about, how you fantasize about a man touching you.” He kissed the skin right under her ear. “How you want me to touch you.” He moved his lips against her neck. “Do you like this?” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear softly. He felt her shiver and knew she enjoyed his touch, but he wanted to hear her say it.

  “Yes,” she whispered, leaning into him slightly.

  “Good. And this?” he asked, nibbling a bit lower.

  “Yes,” she sighed again, her hand coming to touch his forearm. It was the first time she’d voluntarily touched him.

  “Good. Then we compromise. Tomorrow, we marry. It will be official and I’ll immediately take over your father’s company. We’ll head to my house on the water and get to know each other.”

  “But…”

  He nibbled along her neck again, smiling when she trailed off. “And you let me discover what you like and don’t like. We touch and talk and learn. A compromise. It will be just like high school.” More nibbling and he had a hard time not setting her on the table to make love to her. She was ready, he thought. If he kept kissing her like this, she’d be his and they could end the question of having sex.

  So, why was he holding off? Why was he not taking the initiative?

  Because he wanted her completely and explicitly.

  Lana wondered what he considered “getting to know each other”. She suspected that his version and hers were vastly different. But he’d agreed to not having sex until she felt comfortable. Additionally, she hadn’t considered the myriad problems with those cash flow and contractual issues with the vendors. She was painfully aware of the cash flow situation in her father’s company. To say she had a cash flow problem was severely understating the case. She had no cash. She also knew that the bank would never extend her additional credit. They knew she was in charge of a sinking ship. They understood that her education didn’t lend itself to running a business and they’d told her point blank that they didn’t think she was a good risk.

  As for experimenting with sexual preferences, what did he mean when he said, “just like high school”? Lana remembered a night in high school where her date had moved in to kiss her. At the time, the guy had been nice enough, although she didn’t remember him being extraordinarily exciting. Certainly nothing like what she felt when Christoph kissed her. The difference was like night and day. When that boy had kissed her, she’d felt curiosity and remembered thinking, “Is this it?” After all of the anticipation and build up, the actual event had been…lackluster.

  But then he’d moved his hand up from her waist to her breast and that had hurt! She’d jumped back when he’d dug his fingers into her breast. Lana remembered the boy apologizing profusely and wanting to try again. He’d promised to be more gentle, but she’d declined. Smiling gently, she’d suggested that they head back to the party and join the others. The boy had been so embarrassed, he’d agreed, but never spoke to her again.

  The other boys she’d kissed hadn’t been as clumsy, but nor had they sparked anything other than mild interest.

  Until Christoph. Never before had she felt such an overwhelming sense of…need. Desire. Yes, she felt a raging, desperate desire to kiss him again. Kiss and…so much more! She thought about that moment in her office, the way he’d touched her and how shockingly good his touch had felt.

  “I have to get into the office,” he told her, standing up and taking both of her hands, pulling her into his arms. “Tomorrow, Lana,” he reminded firmly. Then he kissed her. It wasn’t a long kiss, but the pressure of his lips was firm and powerful. When he lifted his head, looking down at her, there was a satisfied gleam to his eyes that she didn’t fully understand.

  “Also, I doubt that you had time to find a wedding dress yesterday since you were with your friends, so I had my assistant arrange for someone to deliver several options to your house. Pick whichever one suits you. If you don’t like any of them,” his arms tightened slightly before he released her and stepped back, “then use the credit card I put in your wallet this morning. Don’t use your own money.”

  And with that, he walked towards the door, leaving her blinking at him.

  Wedding dresses. Darn it, she’d completely forgotten about looking for a wedding dress yesterday!

  When Christoph glanced back, he chuckled at her startl
ed expression. “Seems I was right,” he commented, then bent and kissed her again. “Choose something pretty, Lana,” he said softly, his voice husky and deep. “I’ll send you details about tomorrow.”

  And then he was gone, leaving her in his dining room and Lana slumped back down into the luxurious chair. She glanced down at her plate, confused, stunned, and…a multitude of other emotions she couldn’t quite define. For some reason, the difference in their breakfast plates seemed to scream at their different personalities and stations and…everything about each other. She’d managed to take a few bites of her enormous meal while he’d completely devoured his own.

  “What am I getting myself into?” she whispered.

  Standing up, she folded her napkin and tucked it under the plate before walking out of the huge penthouse.

  Lana walked back into her father’s house that morning, confused about what Christoph could make her feel.

  “Where have you been?” Willow demanded.

  The question jerked her out of her contemplation and she looked up to find Willow and Tamara glaring at her. They were still in their pajamas, which consisted of old tee-shirts and baggy, flannel pajama bottoms. Willow’s long, red hair was pulled up into a ponytail that cascaded down her neck and shoulders in a fiery waterfall. Tamara’s hair wasn’t as tidy. She simply pulled the dark locks up into a messy bun on top of her head, straggling wisps of hair going every which way. But both women looked shockingly beautiful this early in the morning.

  “I went over to talk with Christoph,” she replied, dumping her purse onto the countertop and heading for the coffee.

  Thinking back on the morning, she wondered if he’d done that on purpose to distract her from arguing with him about having sex. She might have gotten him to concede not having sex immediately after their wedding ceremony, but she’d wanted longer. Overnight, she’d come up with a plan, a way for them to get to know one another without the confusing issue of lust interfering.

  Now she felt as if she’d lost something. Or gained something? Lana wasn’t really sure. And to be honest, her body was still humming after the way he’d kissed her neck.

  “You didn’t go over and spend the night with him?” Willow asked, her tone softer now.

  Lana’s eyes widened. “Is that what you guys thought?” she asked, then covered her mouth, trying to smother her laughter.

  “Yes,” they answered in unison.

  She chuckled again, but shook her head. “No. I definitely didn’t go over to his place last night.” She poured herself some coffee and added a bit of cream. “I barely slept at all last night.”

  “Why would you worry? Would he hurt you?”

  Lana shook her head. “No. He’d never hurt me.” She paused for a moment, tilting her head slightly. “At least, he wouldn’t hurt me physically.”

  Tamara leaned against the counter, holding her cup of coffee in both of her hands. “He might not hurt you physically, but what about emotionally?” she probed, sadness coloring her tone.

  Willow and Lana both looked at their friend. “Oh, Tam,” Willow said, reaching out and hugging Tamara. “Your sheik won’t hurt you. You’re too strong for that.”

  Tamara sniffed, then lifted her head. “I know. I won’t let him! Mostly because I’m not going to let my marriage happen.”

  “He is very good looking,” Lana commented carefully, thinking about the man from last night. “Are you…”

  Tamara hefted her coffee cup threateningly at Lana. “Don’t go there!” She took a breath in the ensuing silence, then shook her head again. “No. I refuse to have a relationship with a man like Sheik Jurad. He’s…not for me.” She blinked, then her eyes narrowed in Lana’s direction. “And you’ve successfully changed the subject. If you didn’t spend the night with Christoph, where were you this morning?”

  Lana blushed and looked down at her coffee cup. “Well, I was with him this morning. But not in the way you mean. I just went over to talk to him.” She paused for a moment. “He was working out when I got there.” A shiver went through her as she remembered all those muscles on display. “He’s pretty impressive underneath all of those boring suits,” she told her friends. “I’ll admit, I’m intrigued.”

  “And…interested?” Willow asked hopefully.

  Lana chuckled and shook her head. “Let’s leave it at intrigued.”

  “Okay, so you’re intrigued. What was this morning’s conversation about?” asked Tamara

  Lana walked over to the table and sat down, taking a steadying sip from her coffee cup. Tamara and Willow joined her, flanking her on both sides as they waited for more information.

  “I asked him to hold off on…intimacy until we knew each other better.”

  They waited, but when she didn’t continue, Willow snickered. “Did he agree?”

  Lana sighed. “Sort of. Yes.” She bit her lip and shrugged. “Not really, but he didn’t completely disagree.”

  Willow and Tamara shared a glance, then turned to Lana. “That makes no sense, my friend. Explain.”

  Lana chuckled at Tamara’s brusque tone. She wasn’t one to beat around the bush.

  “He said that we would hold off on…” she blushed, “…well actual sex, until I felt more comfortable with him. But he said we should talk about…things,” she blushed again, growing irritated with the annoying awkwardness of the subject and straightened her spine. “He said that communication is the most important part of a good sex life. So, we should talk about things. But he meant we should experiment physically and then talk about what we each liked and disliked.”

  Willow pondered that, her head tilted slightly. “I like that idea. He’s right. Talking is much better. If my father ever talked about things…well, no. I can’t imagine Jimmy Mills actually talking and following through.”

  “Yeah, that might be a bit of a stretch for him,” Tamara agreed. “But I still think that it could work with Lana and Christoph. From what we learned of him last night, he seemed open minded and willing to talk with us. And we asked some pretty good questions.”

  “That’s true. He knows his business and he knows what he wants. He has a plan.”

  “Yes, but does that plan include…well, we won’t go there.”

  “Why not? Go there, my friend,” Willow encouraged. “You were going to ask if his plan included falling in love and the happily ever after, forever kind of commitment.”

  Lana frowned. “No. I wasn’t going to ask that. I know the answer.”

  Tamara laid her hand on Lana’s arm. “It might not work out always, but the forever kind of love is real, Lana. It could happen to you.”

  Lana forced a smile. “Yes, anything is possible. I’m not going to hope for anything though. Not with Christoph. He admitted last night that he prefers variety among his female companions.”

  “But he chose you to be his wife.”

  “No,” she laughed. “He didn’t choose me. I’m a business issue. I’m a solution to a financial problem. Christoph wants my father’s companies. I’m just the means to obtain them.”

  “Didn’t you say something about a dance a couple of years ago?”

  Their first dance several years ago flashed into her mind, the heat and the intensity in his eyes. But Lana mercilessly pushed it away. That was in the past, she reminded herself firmly. He’d probably been with plenty of women in the interim. “Yes, but I doubt he remembers me. That was so long ago!” Lana said, smiling slightly at how flustered she’d been after that dance.

  “Anyway, I need to get a dress for the wedding tomorrow. Christoph arranged for someone to deliver dresses here, but if I don’t find anything I want, I’m going to have to hit the shops.” She tilted her head. “Although, he didn’t mention what time the dresses would arrive.” She rubbed her forehead, realizing how many issues she needed to deal with over the next twenty-four hours. “Regardless, would you two like to help me choose one? And if none of the dresses are suitable, maybe you could accompany me to pick something out?” She
had to wonder how she was going to get a wedding dress fitted and ready within twenty-four hours. But perhaps the Anastas name would help speed along any alterations that needed to happen.

  “I’m in!” Willow said, immediately leaping to her feet. “You know how much I love shopping!”

  Lana giggled, she knew Willow truly hated stepping into retail stores! “Thanks,” she chuckled. Her support indicated a true sign of loyalty and friendship.

  “You know I’m in,” Tamara replied as well. They all refreshed their coffee and then headed upstairs, agreeing to meet back downstairs in thirty minutes.

  Chapter 9

  Lana stood next to Willow and Tamara, wishing that she was anywhere but here. This moment, this ceremony, was going to change her life in ways she couldn’t even begin to imagine. She didn’t want that to happen. She’d had a good life! She painted, she sold her paintings, and then she started a new one. That was the life she wanted, the life she understood and needed.

  Lana had friends and her loft where she hid from the world and worked through her emotions and confusions with life in her paintings. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to work through the emotions of marrying a man she barely knew, who made her world splinter apart with just a touch or a kiss.

  Turning, she stared at her reflection in the window of the courthouse. Marrying a man she’d only known for a few days sounded like a romantic comedy film plot. What in the world was she doing? She should run the other way and tell Christoph to just…do whatever! She’d sign over all the profits to the companies if he’d just take over running them and save the jobs that would be lost if she continued to run the stupid company!

  Willow and Tamara wore pretty dresses, although they didn’t match. They hadn’t had time to coordinate their outfits and Lana didn’t think it was necessary. Not with the speed with which Christoph was pushing for this ceremony to happen. She understood, but that didn’t negate her need for a bit more time to come to terms with all of the changes happening in her life.

 

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