by I. T. Lucas
Nathalie had showered before him, and the only items of clothing she had on while playing with his hair were a tiny pair of see-through panties and a matching bra.
She kissed his forehead, which brought her breasts so close to his nose he could feel the vapor coming off her damp skin. Unable to help himself, he reached with his hands and cupped both.
“They are getting bigger every day,” he murmured before planting a gentle kiss above one swell and then the other.
“I know, right? That’s the best side effect of the pregnancy. I feel buxom, sexy.” She waggled her breasts in front of his face.
Andrew circled her tiny waist with one arm and delivered a hard smack to her butt cheek with his hand.
“Ouch! What was that for?”
“You are always sexy, and I love this butt.” He palmed both cheeks and gave them a squeeze. “You don’t need larger breasts. Everything about you is perfect the way it is.”
She slapped his cheek playfully. “You’re such a sweet-talker. But we don’t have time for any hanky-panky. Let me get dressed.” She removed his arm from her waist and turned around.
Her panties were the almost thong type, a narrow strip of fabric in the back leaving most of her beautiful ass exposed. His smack had left a very faint imprint on her left butt cheek. Sexy as hell. He wanted to adorn her right cheek in a similar way, but was afraid she wouldn’t react favorably.
Maybe some other time.
He almost came in his pants when she bent at the waist to pull out her new, red dress from the plastic bag on the floor.
“What are you doing to me, woman?” he croaked, shifting his position to try and relieve the pressure on the club in his pants.
Turning her head with a wicked smirk on her beautiful face, she winked. “Payback, sweetheart.”
The woman was a witch. With her gorgeous ass high in the air and her long, luxurious hair hanging down to the floor on one side of her head, she was sin and temptation personified.
“Ooh, you just earned yourself another smack.” He was up and delivering a loud slap to the other cheek before she had the chance to cover what she was so carelessly flaunting.
“Stop it! Andrew! What has gotten into you? Are you suddenly into spanking?” She tried to sound upset, but he could tell she was having as much fun with it as he was.
Cupping both cheeks in his hands, he massaged them gently and kissed her neck. “You call this a spanking? Those were love taps.”
“Aha. Whatever. Now leave my ass alone so I can get dressed. And put your shoes on. We need to get going.”
With a sigh, he let go.
Half an hour later they were standing in the vestibule in front of Amanda’s penthouse doors.
“How do I look?” Nathalie asked.
“I would rather show you than tell you, but then I’ll mess up your makeup and hair, and you’ll get mad at me. You’re stunning, baby. And I’m the luckiest guy in the universe to have you. I can’t believe some other schmuck didn’t snap you up a long time ago.”
She grinned, her red-painted lips forming the most beautiful shape. “That’s because I was waiting for you.”
“Damn right you were.” He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles.
The door opened to reveal Amanda and her mocking smirk. She braced one hand against the doorjamb and put the other on her hip. “Are you going to come in anytime soon? Or should I close the door and keep listening to you lovebirds sing each other’s praises?”
Nathalie blushed and Andrew knew why. Just as he’d promised, last night he’d praised her into several screaming orgasms. Muffled by a pillow, naturally. Damn, they really needed to move. He loved that his woman was a screamer, and he hated that she wasn’t free to do so.
Dalhu’s tall frame appeared behind Amanda, and he pulled her aside, tucking her under his arm as if she was a dainty little thing and not a six-foot-tall woman. “Come in, guys.”
“Thank you.”
“Follow me,” he said as he strolled down the hallway to one of the bedrooms.
“Wait,” Amanda called. “Do you guys want something to drink?”
Nathalie turned around. “Not yet. I don’t want to smear my lipstick.”
“Give me a holler when you do.”
“Nice,” Andrew said as they entered Dalhu’s new studio. It seemed that Amanda had had a wall knocked down between two bedrooms, combining them into one big, open space. There was a staging area with an armchair and some soft velvety fabric draped on a wooden contraption behind it. Several lamps were aimed at the chair, but they were turned off. Hopefully, Dalhu didn’t intend on turning them all on. If he did, they would be baking from the heat.
“The suit Syssi brought is hanging on the hook in the bathroom. You can change in there.” Dalhu pointed to a door.
When he was done, Andrew stepped out of the bathroom and looked at himself in the tall mirror Dalhu had put up on one of the walls. “I look damn good in a designer suit.” The fit wasn’t perfect, but it was better than any other suit Andrew had ever worn—including the tuxedo custom-made for him for Syssi’s wedding. He just filled the thing better now.
“Stop admiring yourself and get over here.” Dalhu waved a hand toward the chair Nathalie was sitting in.”
“How do you want to do it? With me standing behind the chair, looking regal? Or should I take the chair and have Nathalie sit on my lap.”
Dalhu shrugged. “It’s your portrait, you guys decide.”
There was only one person here who was going to make any decisions, and it sure wasn’t Andrew. Even an old bachelor like him knew that it was the lady’s call.
“Nathalie? What would you like?”
She pushed up to her high-heel clad feet and tugged on his hand. “I want to sit in your lap. I want our kids to look at this portrait and know how deeply in love their parents were from the very beginning.”
Andrew heard Amanda sigh in the living room and murmur, “That’s so romantic.”
He had to agree.
Chapter 23: Nathalie
Nathalie’s face was getting numb from holding the same expression for the past hour or so. The rest of her wasn’t doing so great either. Andrew hadn’t voiced any complaints yet, but his arm, the one holding her, must’ve gone numb. Her macho guy was probably waiting for her to say something first.
Andrew would let that arm fall off before admitting that his pregnant, mortal fiancée was tougher than him.
Fortunately, women didn’t suffer from that particular mental affliction, and she was definitely done for today.
Nathalie let her face relax. “Can you give me a push up, Andrew?” she asked.
“Certainly, my love.”
She stifled a snort at his relieved tone and pushed all the way up to her feet. “We are done for today, Dalhu. I was getting numb all over.” Lifting her arms over her head, she did a couple of side stretches, remembering too late that her dress wasn’t long enough for such a maneuver. Her arms dropped, and she put her hands on her hips for a couple more.
“Do you want to see how the portrait is coming out?” Dalhu asked with a shy smile.
Cute.
A guy who would’ve terrified her if she bumped into him on the street, a huge ex-mercenary, was acting like a little boy showing his mom a drawing he’d made and hoping for her approval.
“Sure, if you don’t mind. Some artists don’t like showing their work in progress. Only when it’s done.”
“Then it’s good I don’t consider myself an artist.”
Yeah, right. Of course, he was. Like most people, Dalhu was shielding his ego by pretending he didn’t put any stock in his talent.
He stepped aside as Nathalie walked around the easel and took her first look at his work.
“It’s beautiful, Dalhu.” In the hour or so they’d been posing for him, Dalhu had finished sketching their outline and started adding detail to their faces. She wondered if Dalhu had captured Andrew’s real expression or had allowed himself ar
tistic license. The love and pride radiated from the canvas. This was exactly how she wanted their future children to see them.
“Let me see.” Andrew came around, but she grabbed him for a fierce kiss before he had a chance to see anything.
“What was that for?” he asked when she let go of him.
“For the way you look at me.” Nathalie pointed at the picture.
As he glanced at the portrait, Andrew’s eyes skimmed over his own outline without really looking and focused on hers. He frowned as if he didn’t approve.
“What? You don’t like how Dalhu drew me?”
“Oh, I like the way you look, what I don’t like is how he sees you.”
“What do you mean?” She cast a worried glance at Dalhu. By the amused look on his face, the guy seemed to know what Andrew was talking about.
Andrew pointed at the drawing, first at the swell of her breast and then at the curve of her hip.
“I think I look sexy.”
“Exactly.”
“Relax, Andrew. I view Nathalie with an artist’s eye. There is only one woman for me, and you know it.”
“In here, I do.” Andrew pointed to his head. “But in here, I don’t.” He pointed to his chest.
Dalhu chuckled. “You want to talk about it? I’m avoiding visiting Amanda at work even though I’m not under house arrest anymore. I know I’ll go postal seeing all the ogling looks I’m sure she’s getting from her horny students. And the funny thing is that I’m not even the jealous type. I trust Amanda completely. I just hate thinking about what goes on in those little punks’ dirty minds.”
“Fuck, I hadn’t considered the ogling customers my Nathalie will have to deal with again.” He turned to her. “You can’t work at the coffee shop anymore.”
She patted his arm. “Down, Andrew. You’re talking nonsense. I’m thirsty, and I’m going to take Amanda up on her offer.”
Amanda wasn’t in the living room when they got there, and Dalhu played host, pouring some carbonated water for her and scotch for Andrew.
“She is probably in her office. I’ll go get her.” He left them sitting at the counter.
Andrew took a sip then put his drink down. “Sorry for before. I didn’t mean it. These immortal hormones are difficult to control.”
Poor guy. He was having a hard time adjusting to his new physique. It was good Andrew had such a strong personality, otherwise the change would have affected more than his body. He would’ve become a different man. Funny how people didn’t realize that their personalities were influenced by their body’s chemistry, and not controlled solely by the command center up in their brains.
“I know, baby. I’m not mad, just amused.”
Andrew opened his mouth to say something when they heard someone knocking on the door. He leaned back and glanced at the corridor. “Should we answer it, or give Dalhu a holler?”
“Both. I’ll open the door, and you get them. On second thoughts, a holler is a better idea. God knows what they are doing in there.”
“You’re right. He should’ve been back already.”
There was another knock, and then the door opened, saving Nathalie the effort.
Kian strode in as if he owned the place, which in a way he did, and Syssi was right behind him with a frown on her face. “You should wait to be invited. You hate when people barge into our place, and yet you’re doing the same thing.”
“I knocked.” He walked over to the counter. “You guys look fancy.” He gave Andrew a look-over. “Nice suit.”
Not for the first time, she’d noticed that Kian was barely looking at her, and he didn’t offer his hand for a shake either. At first, she’d assumed he was indifferent to her, but now she was starting to suspect it was the standard protocol between immortal males. Giving too much attention to another man’s mate was apparently considered rude.
“It sure is. It’s yours.” Andrew offered his hand, and Kian shook it.
“You look gorgeous, Nathalie.” Syssi leaned and kissed her cheek. “You should always wear red.”
“That’s what Andrew says. But I think it’s too flashy for everyday wear.”
Syssi shook her head. “It’s not. But we all have our little quirks and habits. For me, it’s skirts and dresses. I feel weird if I wear anything other than pants to work.”
“Hey, guys.” Amanda finally decided to show up. “Let’s move to the living room so everyone can sit.” She shooed them away from the counter.
“Onidu! We have guests.”
Her butler rushed out of his room, buttoning his jacket on the go. “Yes, mistress. Should I serve hors d’oeuvres?”
“That would be lovely.” She turned to her guests with a dazzling smile that a few weeks ago would’ve made Nathalie’s gut clench with envy. “Who wants a drink?”
“I want one, but I can't have it.” Nathalie pouted.
Amanda tapped a finger on her red lips, and Nathalie wondered if she was always wearing lipstick, even at home. “I can make you a non-alcoholic cocktail.”
“No, thank you. I’m fine with the sparkling water. I don’t need the empty calories.”
“As you wish. Andrew, I see you have your poison. How about you, Kian?”
“A beer.”
“I’d like one too,” Syssi said.
“I’ll get it,” Dalhu offered.
A moment later he returned with four bottles and handed one to Kian and one to Syssi, then put the third one in front of Andrew. “For later.”
“So tell me, how is it to be back home?” Syssi asked. “Miss us already? We certainly miss you. The penthouse feels empty without you.”
With a grimace, Nathalie cast Andrew a pointed look. She didn’t want to bring the subject of an apartment in the keep.
“We need a larger place,” Andrew said without preamble. “I was wondering if we could rent an apartment here or in one of the neighboring buildings. We didn’t consider a move before because of Fernando’s condition, but he surprised us with how well he adjusted here. We could use help with him. Someone to keep an eye on him so Nathalie and I can have a breather.”
Nathalie’s cheeks warmed. This was exactly what they’d discussed the day before, but asking for help taking care of her father was embarrassing as hell. He was her responsibility.
“You can’t rent an apartment in the keep,” Kian said.
Nathalie’s cheeks blazed hotter. She hadn’t expected a refusal.
With a smile tugging at her lips, Syssi punched her husband’s arm—not gently, given his wince. “He is joking, you guys. What he means is that you can have an apartment here. No rent required.”
They were offering Andrew and her charity. As if asking for their help with her father hadn’t been humiliating enough. “Andrew and I can afford to pay rent. We are not rich, but we are not destitute either. Don’t treat us as a charity case.”
Nathalie was itching to get up and walk out the door. She wouldn’t, of course; she wasn’t ungrateful and rude. But Andrew’s relatives were making her very uncomfortable.
Amanda snorted. “I don’t pay rent. No member of the family does. Kian built this building as a safe haven for all the clan members he is responsible for. If they choose to live elsewhere, they have to pay for their lodging, but not here. Don’t forget that he used clan resources to build this, not his own money. The building belongs to the clan.”
Great, she’d gotten pissed off for nothing.
Andrew rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Define clan members for me. Because I don’t think I am. Only Annani’s descendants and their spouses can claim that honor.”
“Let me answer that.” Kian stopped Amanda. “First of all, as Syssi’s brother and an immortal, you are part of the family. But you’re right; we didn’t adjust the law to cover your situation yet. We will, though. I don’t want any ambiguity. I’ll talk to Edna and have her prepare a draft. The thing is, even if your status is not a hundred percent clear, Andrew, yours, Nathalie, is. You are Bhathian’s daughter,
and therefore Annani’s descendent. In fact, it was a gross oversight on my part, as well as your father’s, not to realize that you should receive a share of the clan’s profit like every other clan member who turned twenty-five. We owe you five years of unpaid dividends.”
Talk about speechless. “But you didn’t know I existed! You didn’t account for an extra person, whatever money was earned during those years was already divided between whoever was on the books.”
“Let me worry about the accounting, Nathalie.”
Damn, when Kian used that tone, it was impossible to argue with him. Nathalie glanced at Syssi, wondering if he had the same effect on his wife.
He had an effect on her all right, but of a different kind. Syssi’s eyes were glazed with passion, and her cheeks were flushed. Kian’s commanding tone was a major turn-on for his wife.
They were such a cute couple. Well, maybe cute wasn’t the right term. Nothing about Kian was cute. Problem was, a well-matched couple sounded too clinical. A passionate couple? A loving couple?
Andrew nudged her. “Penny for your thoughts?”
“What? Oh, nothing really. Thank you, Kian, Syssi, Amanda, Dalhu, you are all so wonderfully generous.”
Dalhu raised his bottle. “I’m not. I’m still charging you for the portrait, and I regret giving you a discount. You can afford the full price now.”
Nathalie wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.
“Mesdames et messieurs, the hors d’oeuvres are ready.” Onidu put a large oval platter on the coffee table. A moment later he returned with six small plates and six tiny forks. “Bon appetit.” He bowed and retreated.
“So how is it going to work?” Amanda asked. “You’re going to commute to your coffee shop every day?”
“Yes. Jackson and his buddies are going to run it, and I’m going to come in only for a few hours a day. Andrew doesn’t want me to exert myself.”
Syssi nodded with approval. “He is right. Especially when that belly grows larger.”
