by Noelle Adams
Ana knew that would be the sensible thing to do. But she was too angry to be sensible right now. It just wasn’t fair!
Ana thought about her plans for the day. She was scheduled to attend several functions, none of which were especially important to her. But she knew the amount of trouble others went through when she was scheduled to attend something. Security was set up several days in advance, including a team that would scout the building and the surrounding areas, planning for any eventuality.
She sighed and went to her closet, reviewing her options for the day. It was going to be a relatively warm day for early spring, at least one thing she could be happy about, she thought. She chose a pretty spring dress with flowers covering the skirt and bodice with a matching solid, yellow cardigan for the cool breezes that sometimes sprung up during the day. Pretty matching yellow pumps completed the outfit. Ana pulled her hair back into a simple pony tail with a clip and surveyed her appearance. Did she look like a princess? When people looked at her, what did they really see? Was there a human being beneath her image to the world? When people looked at her picture in the papers, did they see the woman beneath the title? Did they guess at her inner feelings? Could they see what she was feeling?
What did Marcus see? Ana realized that that question was the most important to her. She hoped that he saw something more than a princess. But really, she couldn’t allow that question to haunt her. This was a temporary relationship. It couldn’t even be a relationship, she reminded herself. She was scheduled to leave tomorrow to head back to Montbain and that would be the end of her freedom, and Marcus. That realization pained her so much that tears sprung to her eyes.
She wiped them away angrily. There was no time for sadness. She had a short time with him and she had to make every moment count. She was having dinner with him tonight and perhaps more.
That thought stopped her cold. Perhaps more? What more could there be?
Ana knew the answer. She wanted to make love with Marcus tonight. It was so forbidden that the thought sent shivers down her body. She had been told her whole life that she would be saving her virginity for her husband. But was he also coming to their marriage a virgin? The article in this morning’s paper would indicate that he had definitely not saved himself for her. He was thirty-six years old. It was unrealistic to think that the man had not had sex with another female in thirty six years. Here she was, twenty-six contemplating the act for the first time in her life. But what did she care? The man obviously didn’t care a fig for her or her feelings so why should she save herself for a man who was an obnoxious, conceited womanizer?
The idea of making love with Marcus was delicious. Could she do it, she thought as she ducked into the limousine that would take her to her appointments for the day?
“What are you thinking about?” Marabeth asked as she ducked into the limousine behind Ana.
Ana was startled out of her thoughts. “Nothing, really,” she said, smiling for her sister’s benefit.
“Uh huh,” she said, obviously not believing her older sister. “Sure. Now tell me the truth. And tell me what happened this morning after breakfast. I’ve never seen father so shocked or so livid.”
“What happened after I left the room?” Ana asked, the quiver in her voice revealing her nervousness over the incident.
“I wouldn’t know,” she smiled impishly, her blue eyes glowing with mischief. “I was told to leave immediately.”
“I’m sorry,” Ana replied sadly and stared out the window. She hated the way she kept crying lately. It was ridiculous and all because of two men; one she wanted to be with forever and another that she would be with but hated without ever having met him.
Marabeth broke into Ana’s depressing thoughts. “Are you going to share where you’ve been going all these past few days? The only part I heard this morning was the fact that you’ve been leaving the hotel to be on your own. I admit I’m a little jealous that you’ve obviously been on several adventures and haven’t been sharing with me.”
Ana wanted very much to share her happiness with her sister but that would make her an accomplice and she couldn’t do that to Marabeth who never broke the rules. Neither did Ana until a few days ago.
“I can’t,” she whispered. “And it really isn’t very dramatic,” she lied, feeling awful for doing that with her sister who was also her best friend.
Marabeth watched her sister for a long moment, contemplating whether or not to push further. Finally, she nodded, accepting that her sister wasn’t ready to share with her just yet. “Well, when you feel like you need to talk, please feel free to discuss whatever is bothering you. I promise not to tell mother or father,” she said.
Ana smiled gratefully at her younger sister. “Thanks, Mara.”
Marabeth bit her lip and Ana saw the worried look in her eye. Ana smiled, encouraging her sister to speak her mind despite Ana’s emotional turmoil. “By the way, I saw a picture of Prince Erik. He’s very handsome.”
Ana nodded, not really interested in the man. “That’s good to know,” she replied, turning to look out the window. She was making plans for the evening and wondering if she had the courage to follow through on what she really wanted to do.
They rode the rest of the way in silence. Once they arrived at the museum opening, Ana and Marabeth smiled and nodded in all the appropriate places. Ana had a speech that had been prepared for the occasion and she read it, realizing it wasn’t very inspiring. In fact, it sounded like so many of the other speeches she’d read over the years.
By the end of the day, Ana’s face hurt from smiling at all the benign comments and listening to the conversations of people she didn’t know and would never see again. All she wanted to do was be with Marcus and laugh with him, have him make her forget about all the inane things she had done during the day.
Back at the hotel, Ana changed into a daring, dark green satin dress with a flaring skirt, black thigh high stockings and black, velvet shoes. She added a black shawl and looked at herself in the mirror. There was a heightened color to her cheeks and her eyes were brighter than normal. At some point during the day, she’d made a monumental decision and it was exciting her just to think about it. Ana was going to make love to Marcus tonight and it showed in her appearance. At least she could see it. She wondered if Marcus would understand her intent tonight. She wasn’t sure where they were going, but she was fairly sure she could get her intent across to him.
She walked out and again asked the doorman to call her a cab. Within moments, she was being helped into a cab which then drove her to the Weston Hotel. She was stepping out of the cab just as Marcus’s limousine arrived. She ducked into the back seat and sat down across from Marcus who immediately pulled her into his arms, kissing her until she was breathless and trembling in his arms.
“Hello,” she gasped when he lifted his head slightly from hers.
“Hello,” he said gruffly, studying her face. “Sorry for not following the rules I set out a few days ago.”
“What do you mean?” she asked breathlessly, her fingers still playing with the hair on the back of his head.
His hand rested lightly on her thigh and he looked at her flawless skin and the brightness in her eyes. “I promised you that I wouldn’t do that. But when you stepped into the car, you just looked too beautiful to not touch.”
Ana smiled, feeling warm all over. “Well, that’s okay. I didn’t mind at all.” She looked down at her leg and was fascinated by his large hand resting casually on her thigh. Would she ever get used to this man? She certainly hoped not. “Where are you taking me tonight?” she asked.
He didn’t answer immediately. “How about if I cook you dinner tonight?” he asked.
Ana looked at his eyes, knowing if she said yes, that he would understand that she was ready to move their brief relationship to the next level. Taking a deep breath, she nodded her head.
Erik watched her face, wondering if she understood what he was asking her. Just to be clear so he didn
’t get any false hopes due to her inexperience, he said, “This means I’m going to make love with you tonight.” It was not a question, it was a statement of fact.
Ana smiled and put her hand on the side of his face, then touched her lips gently to his. “I know,” she whispered against his mouth.
Erik groaned and shifted her body so it was draped across his lap. “Finally. I thought you’d never come to my way of thinking,” he said, groaning as she wiggled her hips so she was more comfortable on his lap. That action only made him painfully uncomfortable and he had to hold her still or take her right there. And making love for the first time with this woman was not going to happen in the back of a car.
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 mousse 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 blue 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 la
ughed 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.
