Love For Sale

Home > Other > Love For Sale > Page 5
Love For Sale Page 5

by Linda Nightingale


  The two perfect people discussed Aerospace Engineering and Shakespeare. Maybe, she shouldn’t have had him programmed that intelligent. How would she ever converse with him? She longed for a close relationship, including good communication with her partner. Drifting on her thoughts, she lost track of the conversation and didn’t hear Christian approach.

  He ducked a half-bow and gazed at her through long, lush eyelashes. “March, shall we go?”

  Still in awe of him, she nodded. Christian clasped her hand, twining her fingers with his. Desire crested like a wave as excitement blazed over her. If he could make her ache for him simply by holding her hand, what could he do in bed? At the door, he stood aside for her to pass then lifted a brown leather suitcase with one hand. The light of love in blue eyes melted her heart. She hoped when he gazed at her he saw love mirrored in her eyes.

  He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You look lovely.”

  At the last minute, she’d unpacked the asymmetrical dress. She’d worn the black raw silk Oscar de la Renta suit to impress, never expecting to fall in love with a man at first sight. Flowers embroidered the hem skimming her knees. Her legs were her best asset, and he stared at them now.

  “You look more than great in those jeans.” Her gaze drifted down the length of his gorgeous legs…a pleasant journey indeed.

  If he walked in front of her rather than at her side, she’d pinch his fine ass, but she could wait a few minutes more to indulge fantasies. Maybe he’d grab her in the limo, and they could shock the driver. She had to control this raging and somewhat surprising desire. He mustn’t think that she bought him only for sex, but he radiated passion.

  Christian released her hand to chuck her under the chin. “Tuppence for your thoughts.”

  She grinned, mischief bubbling like champagne in her throat. “I’m not going to feed your ego.”

  Puffs of fog danced across the street. Even the gray, misty English rain failed to dampen her spirits. She wanted to dance in the rain, to sing an aria—if she could sing. I feel like I’m floating on air. Christian’s free hand claimed March’s. When he smiled into her eyes, her pulse fluttered faster.

  His eyes shaded a darker blue. “I am exceedingly happy you chose me.”

  “There was never any doubt.” She accepted his kiss though she’d never been comfortable with public displays of affection.

  Her friend, Ben, jumped from the front seat to open her door. Christian waved him aside, handing her into the Rolls as if she were royalty. Ben smiled and winked. The man she loved arched an eyebrow at the chauffeur, settled his luggage on the curb, and glided into the car at her side, his knee touching hers. The scent of rain-damp hair tempted her to run her fingers through the silky blond flowing over his shoulders. She couldn’t believe her good fortune. Another day might have been too late, Christian adopted by someone who wouldn’t love him the way she did.

  He slid his arm around her shoulders and bent to kiss her, this time tracing her lower lip with the tip of his tongue. He whispered a kiss to her neck, his lips like satin. A delicious shiver capered over her. Five senses fired at once, drowning her in sensation. He looked into her eyes, his so very blue. She couldn’t resist staring at him, her gaze worshiping him.

  “Will it embarrass you if I say I can’t wait to make love to you?” The English accent shaded his beautiful voice sensual.

  She studied his mouth, tasting the hot kiss they’d shared at Mayfair. Leaning into his embrace, she snuggled her face into the fresh scent of his hair, the silky texture a caress. Hooking his finger beneath her chin, he lifted her face and smiled.

  “Thank goodness you aren’t shy.” Her fingertip traced his chiseled jaw.

  He turned her into an embrace and kissed her, really kissed her, thrills chasing straight to her core. His kisses were expert yet innocent and totally delicious. She’d never longed for anything as much as she craved his touch in that moment.

  “Would you want me if I were?” He breathed into her, giving her sweet shivers again. “I’m only being myself. Stefan told me you didn’t ask for many changes other than the accent.”

  “I’ve always found accents exciting.” She pressed her lips to the firm softness of his mouth. “Yours is impeccable.”

  “Thank you, March. I rather like your accent.”

  “Texas, born and bred.”

  The limo’s heater whirred. She wasn’t cold, but she cuddled close to Christian, drinking in his maleness like a woman thirsting in a desert. As the city sped by, framed in the luxurious car’s window, he named streets and landmarks.

  She stroked his hand, trying to keep her composure as she imagined the silky smoothness of his skin against hers. “I thought Mayfair didn’t let their…you roam far from the site.”

  He hugged her. “My programming, you see. I’ve been given information about Houston and America in general since that’s where we’ll live. I’m anxious to see your home…and…” He darted a kiss to the tip of her nose. “To be alone with you.”

  She tilted her head, resisting a smile. “What will we do all alone?”

  “Fear not, I shall think of something.” He tossed his glorious hair, lifted her hand and breathed a kiss on her palm.

  She glanced at Christian’s zipper. Denim outlined a long, hard shaft. Her beautiful man wasn’t wearing underwear. She ran her hand up his thigh.

  He rested his head on the back of the seat, his eyes hooded, and said softly, “Touch me.”

  Desire knifed through her. March caressed the rigid length. His eyes drifted closed, a moan fluttering his too kissable lips. Her alpha bad boy absolutely knew how to dance as if no one was looking! She couldn’t do him in the back of a limousine. Or could she? He would. The hard evidence swelled tighter beneath her hand.

  Chapter 4

  His hand glided beneath her skirt, skimmed up her thigh, and an electric current charged through March. A fingertip teased the hem of her lace panties. He stared into her eyes, smiling and tugged gently. Lace rasped her sensitized nub, firing her hotter. Her breath caught in her throat. Desperate for him to continue his exploration, wanting to feel him inside her, she closed her eyes, waiting.

  In another world, Ben cleared his throat. “Your hotel.”

  March jerked her hand away and sat back in the seat. His long fingers glided over her thigh in a slow retreat. She tugged her skirt down, swallowing embarrassment. As if they’d simply been discussing the weather, he sprang from the car, darted around the hood, and opened her door with a sexy, captivating smile and a wicked gleam in his eyes.

  Face flaming, March said, “Just for the record, Ben. You were one-hundred percent right.”

  The chauffeur glanced at Christian and smiled at March. “My very best wishes.”

  Christian frowned. “Right about what?”

  March tweaked his cheek. “That once I saw you, I’d have to have you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound—”

  He pressed a fingertip to his mouth, dotted the kiss to her lips. “I’m glad you couldn’t resist.”

  Her handsome android extended a hand to guide her from the car in grand style, took charge of the luggage from the chauffeur, and linked arms with March. They said their goodbyes to Ben and swept across the street to the hotel.

  As they strolled through the lobby, women stopped whatever they were doing to ogle Christian. Pride surged through March. They envied her, and right they should. The caresses in the Rolls had her on go. Big time. She wanted him to take her from behind, making love to her until she screamed for release. She longed to be filled by him.

  His arm encircled her shoulders, hip brushing her side. She gazed up at him simply for the pleasure of looking at him. He glanced down at her and smiled, his eyes twinkling crystal blue. If she got any happier, she’d explode.

  Christian hugged her close to his side. “Are you hungry? I don’t want you to starve on my account.”

  The only way she’d go hungry was if he disappeared from her arms. A shadow fell over her ha
ppiness. He was bound to her by computer code. Was that real love? Far too happy to question her impulsive actions, she banished the thought and snuggled against the man of her dreams.

  He ushered her into the old-fashioned elevators. “I’ll order for you in the room.”

  She bumped her hip against his. “You don’t have to serve me.”

  Christian laughed and winked. “Never fear, I’ll ask for my reward. March, I yearn to make love to you.”

  “I can’t wait.” She sucked in a deep breath of passion, shrugged, her gaze fleeing as the brass door swished open for them to board.

  Hands on her shoulders, he turned her to face a serious expression. “You didn’t specify your wants and needs, but I shall please you.”

  March’s breath stalled in her lungs. She plucked the room key from her handbag. “I’ve no doubt at all that you’ll please me. I need to please you, too.”

  His hand glided through her hair. “You will. I can’t wait to hold you.” His brows flickered mischievously. “Can room service wait?”

  Her nipples hardened as remembered pleasure tingled over her. She tiptoed to kiss him, trying to express her love and desire for him in one simple statement. “Anything will wait for us.”

  The elevator doors whooshed open. People waiting caught them melted together. Their reactions were actually amusing. The young girl’s jaw dropped. An older woman scanned him head-to-toe. The elderly gentleman with her looked envious. As if they were alone, Christian freed her, turned her into a one-armed embrace and ushered her into the hall. A proud cougar, March smiled at their audience.

  In a sexually charged silence, they strolled down the floral carpeted hallway. March slipped the room key into the slot. A green light flashed, and the lock clicked. He opened the door, waving for her to enter the room where they would make love for the first time. A fit of shyness gripped her. It had been a year since she’d had sex and never with a man like Christian. She stared at the floor. What should she do? What should she say?

  Christian gripped her waist, waltzing her back until her knees collided with the bed. He lifted her, kissed her, and laid her on top of the English rose bedspread. Beneath her head, feathers crackled in the downy pillows. He stood looking down at her, passion firing his eyes. Her heart hammered desire through her veins. Of their own accord it seemed, her knees parted, her body’s invitation to satisfy her.

  A slow smile parted his lips.

  “Take me,” she whispered, gazing into the depths of those crystalline eyes.

  He inched her skirt to her waist, slowly stripping her. His hot gaze burned a path over her body, quickening need. Licking her nipples with a warm tongue, he mounted her, plunging deep. Her passage clenched on the slick, hard shaft swelling inside her. She writhed, tossing her head in the pillows, moaning as need built in her. He thrust harder, faster, wringing a gasp of pleasure from her. She locked her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tight. Making love to him was rapture. For the first time in her life, she cried out as release blazed through her.

  “March,” he whispered.

  Her lover—her Christian—buried his face in the pillow beside her head, stroked deep, and filled her with the warm tide she’d craved. She listened to him breathing hard, her breath coming in near gasps. He stayed inside her, lying gently on top of her. Lord, he’d rocked her world.

  ****

  The next morning, they made love slowly, touching and caressing, savoring the pleasure as the clock ticked away the hour. They took the Underground to Harrod’s and added to Christian’s wardrobe. March’s Discover card cried, but she reveled in watching him try on prospective purchases—and so did the female salesclerk.

  The remainder of the day they spent sightseeing, their wanderings ending in Hyde Park. The ancient trees whispered in a summer breeze. As they strolled hand-in-hand, Christian discussed the history of the places they visited.

  At the Tower of London, he nodded at the satiny black birds on the Tower Green. “Do you know the legend of the ravens?” He slid an arm around her waist, hugging her close when she shivered. “If the ravens desert the Tower, England will fall. Actually, since the reign of Charles II, they’re captive birds.”

  “I don’t need a tour guide.” March nestled her face against his shoulder. “I’ve got you.”

  Heedless of the people gawking at them, he danced two steps ahead, clamped his hand to his heart and sang. “I got you, babe.”

  Every night and morning, they made love, each learning the other’s turn-ons. He was the gentle, intense lover she’d asked Mayfair to program. In their wanderings, they ventured farther from the city into the countryside. They rented a car and drove to Cornwall to visit the crumbled site of King Arthur’s Tintagel, the sea crashing into the cave below, Merlin’s Cave. She felt like Guinevere with her beloved Lancelot. A vision of Paul as Arthur flickered before her eyes. Would her ex try to separate the lovers?

  One night, they dined at an elegant, pricey restaurant, he in his suit; she in the Oscar de la Renta. Waiters uniformed in formal white shirts and tuxedo pants served five courses beginning with lobster bisque and ending with chocolate Grand Marnier cake. March discreetly ate portions of Christian’s meal so his plate didn’t look untouched. Their first blissful week fled by, though they grasped at each moment trying to hold back time. Not one regret troubled March. Finally, with forty in the rearview mirror, she was happy.

  ****

  At eleven on a rainy Sunday morning, Ben ferried them to the airport.

  Homeward Bound!

  Was it only nine days ago that I ripped the ad from the magazine, played hooky from work, and sang along with the Simon and Garfunkel CD, never dreaming in two days I’d be head over heels in love?

  The clerk gawked at Christian as he loaded their luggage onto the airline scales. He smiled and said he hoped Houston weather was better. Everywhere, people noticed them, some with envy, perhaps; others with smiles. Christian was so striking, she was sure he drew the attention, but she felt radiant. In the mirrors and shop windows, she saw a handsome couple in love. March pictured them enveloped in a golden glow of happiness.

  The week in London had been an idyll, a space out of time. On the flight home, reality visited March, and her heart sank. She couldn’t hide Christian in her apartment forever, didn’t want to, in fact, but she dreaded the day she’d have to confront her ex and the boys with her perfect new husband. What other people or even Paul thought was of no concern. The boys mattered a great deal.

  From the airport home, they cuddled close in a shuttle. At one time, public shows of affection would have embarrassed March. In nine days, she’d changed, and her life would never again be the same.

  “We’re almost home,” she said, actually glad.

  “I’m looking forward to seeing your place.”

  “Our place, but I think we’ll move.” She toyed with the ends of his soft hair. “The apartment is very small.”

  The real reason was to escape judgment by Paul and the boys. March was starting a new life and needed to abandon the past.

  As they walked down the shaded path to the apartment, he said, “I’ll find work. I know I was dreadfully expensive.”

  March was tense as a drawn bow. Any minute, one of her ex-family might turn a corner. “Darling, you can’t work until you have the work permit.”

  “Illegal aliens work without permits.” He smiled, and her heart hitched. “I doubt I could teach or work at NASA, but there are jobs to be had. You’ll be away during the day. I should do something useful.”

  Linking arms, she guided him home. You don’t know how much you’ve already done for me. “We’ll see,” she said teasingly and nudged him in the side. “I’d hate for you to be arrested picking fruit.”

  Christian laughed, shaking his head. “Climbing trees isn’t a problem.”

  “Jail is.” March looked at the heavy luggage he towed and at the winding staircase. “Getting the cases up the stairs is going to be a chore.”


  Maybe that was a silly thing to say. In movies, like The Bionic Man, androids lifted cars.

  One in each hand, he hoisted the suitcases and climbed the narrow staircase as if he were carrying two empty grocery bags not one hundred pounds. She suspected Christian would amaze her often. At the front door, she tiptoed to brush her lips to his mouth. He cradled her head in his hands, deepening the kiss. Her eyes drifted closed, and her body melted against him. Such glorious pleasure was sinful. He released her, his eyes a magnetic darker blue. The intensity of his gaze thrilled and excited her. A hot fantasy of making love on the balcony stalled her breath. In self-defense, she inserted the key into the lock.

  “Hi, March.”

  She started at the sound of her name and spun toward the speaker. Her next-door neighbor stood at the foot of the stairs. How long had she been there? Had she watched them kissing?

  “Hello, Liz,” she called. “How are you?”

  Liz shaded her eyes, looking at Christian. “Good. You been on vacation?”

  March knew the other woman was bursting to find out who Christian was. At least in the beginning, she and her sweetheart were going to generate a lot of curiosity.

  “Yes.” March finished opening the door, letting Liz squirm for an introduction.

  “Hullo, Liz.” Christian waved down to the sexy blonde. “I’m Christian.”

  “Nice to meet you, Christian.” She placed a foot on the bottom step, emphasizing her long legs and very short shorts. “I bought a watermelon today. Want to settle your luggage and come down?”

  March suffered a sting of jealousy, but Christian seemed not to notice Liz’ butt cheek peeking from the tattered cuff of the painted-on denim shorts.

  “Perhaps, another time. We’ve had a long flight. Pleasure to meet you.” He turned to the luggage, hauling both heavy pieces into the apartment.

  Smooth, Christian. He really handled the situation well. Note to March: No more concerns about charm or social adeptness.

  “Later.” March waved, hurried inside and closed the door on the outside world, sequestering her and her dream man in their private version of heaven. “I’ll start unpacking, if you’ll pour a couple of Mimosas. Champagne and orange juice in the fridge.”

 

‹ Prev