Love in the City, an erotic romance novel

by Hall, Heather

  He looked at her, a big smile crossing his face. He walked over to the other side of the island to stand next to her. He brushed her arm. “Anabelle, look at me.”

  She looked up at him, his blue eyes sparkling with warmth.

  He saw how important this question was to her, it was written all over her face, but at the same time he was trying to suppress a small laugh. “You know what I am, right?”

  She shook her head. “What?”

  “Oh, m’lady,” he said, his expression one of amusement. “I’m Greek remember? A Greek male.”

  She frowned. She had no idea what that had to do with anything. “So?”

  He licked his lips, placing his hands on her bare shoulders. “So, my beautiful girl, it’s in my DNA to be attracted to a…” his gaze dropped to her bosom, showcased by her sultry, figure-hugging dress, “curvy woman. God, Anabelle, your womanly body…your full breasts, your full hips and beautifully rounded bottom…” He let out a long sigh and looked into her eyes, a rosy blush to his cheeks. “You are female perfection to me. Just thinking about you...” he stopped, his fingers stroking her shoulders, “well, you know all about that already.” He pressed his soft, pillowy lips against hers for a long, lingering kiss.

  Anabelle felt her face flush. His kisses were so sensual.

  He touched her hair, then ran his hands down the length of her arms and back up to hold her, his hands now resting level with her bosom. “The first day I saw you, I was instantly attracted to you. It was all I could do not to look like a leering creep as you bent down. Your cleavage, your shapely legs…ohhh…it got me. Immediately.”

  She wanted to melt. “Really?”

  He smiled sexily at her. “Really. And you were so adorable. So…real. No affectations. No pretense. Just natural. And funny.” He laughed softly at the memory. “I believe I told you all that during our first coffee, which you obviously didn’t believe.”

  She shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to admit it. “You’re sure you’re not just saying all this to make me feel better?”

  “Oh, I’m sure,” he said. “Besides, I need to be with a woman who can eat. We Greeks like to share feasts, enjoy big meals and wine and be merry. I want to be with someone who can enjoy those kinds of pleasures, like you did tonight, a woman who doesn’t deprive herself for vanity. That makes me happy.”

  She beamed at him. “Well, I certainly love your cooking. It was an incredible meal.”

  “Good,” he said, “I’m glad to hear that.” He hugged her close.

  She hugged him back, pressing her chest into him, as he stroked her bare back.

  “Shall we retire to the living room and enjoy an after dinner drink?” he offered.

  “Lovely,” she said.

  While Anabelle went to the living room, Giorgio poured them snifters of Cognac.

  He came back out to see her gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows. He walked up beside her and handed her a glass. “Your cognac, m’lady.”

  “Why, thank you,” she said, taking the glass and swirling it.

  They sipped the smooth, flavorful amber spirit. He wrapped an arm around her as she stood looking out the window at Central Park and the city beyond.

  “This is a spectacular view,” she said.

  “Yeah, it was one of the first things that drew me to this place. I like working and reading in here,” he said, pointing to the desk in the corner. “It helps me think.”

  “I’m sure, it’s beautiful. Very relaxing, I’m sure,” she replied.

  “Very much so.”

  They continued to gaze out at the park, whose trees and greenery seemed to stretch on endlessly.

  “Can I ask you something else?” Anabelle said, looking up at him.

  “Sure.”

  “Does it bother you that we’re not exactly…matched…in a financial sense?”

  “Not at all. Why, does it bother you?”

  “A little, I guess. I’ve never dated anyone so different from me that way.”

  He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. “I know that some things are different, this place for example, but really, I’m a pretty low-key guy. I like quiet nights in, dinners, movies, plays, spending time in the park. Simple things.”

  “Yeah, but we’re in a much different place when it comes to what we each have the ability to do, money-wise. That might get kind of awkward sometimes.”

  “It won’t for me,” he said, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’m definitely not one for a lot of flash generally. The money’s nice, it helps one do things, for sure. But, we can do whatever you’re comfortable with. I have plenty to provide us with some nice experiences, if you’ll let me.”

  She nodded. “Just let me know if things get too unbalanced and make you uncomfortable.” She looked down at her glass. “I don’t want to come across as taking advantage of you that way.”

  He laughed. “Says the girl who, when she realized who I was the first day we met, couldn’t run away fast enough.”

  “Yeah,” she replied, giggling. “You freaked me out something fierce.”

  “Obviously. You wouldn’t even tell me your last name or come in for my offer of a replacement coffee. And you didn’t call me when I invited you to.”

  She looked down at her glass. “You were pretty intimidating for someone like me.”

  “I hope not anymore.”

  She shook her head. “No.” She leaned her head into him, feeling comfortable in his embrace.

  He held her for a bit. “Why don’t I turn on the fireplace? It gives a nice glow to the room. We can sit down and enjoy both the view and the flames.”

  “That would be really nice,” she said.

  He led her over to the sofa and set his drink down. He turned the gas fireplace on as well as the speakers so that the music would play in the living room as well. He adjusted the lighting to bathe the spacious area in a soft, warm glow. He came back and sat down next to her.

  She placed her hand on his knee. “You are an excellent host, I must say.”

  “Thanks,” he said as he moved his knee closer, to brush against her leg. “I try.”

  She instantly felt the heat, and it wasn’t just from the Cognac.

  He leaned back against the sofa and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

  She leaned into him, letting out a long sigh.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.

  “I’ve got a million things running through my head,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

  “Wow, that’s a lot.” He laughed. “Me? I’m thinking of one thing. You.”

  She looked up at him and saw his sexy smile, his blue eyes and high cheekbones. His hair looked touchably soft. He was so inviting. She leaned over and kissed him. “You have the most luscious, pillowy soft lips,” she said afterwards. “Impossible not to kiss.”

  “Lucky me,” he said, watching her.

  She lightly stroked his thigh, again deep in thought.

  He rubbed her shoulder. “How about you tell me one or two of those million things you’re thinking about all at once. I can see something’s on your mind.”

  She took a long sip of Cognac. “Are you sure? Maybe we should just relax and enjoy the rest of the evening.”

  He sat up. “Now I know there’s something important on your mind,” he said as he placed his hand over hers. “Talk to me. This night was for us to get to know one another more. I want us to move past any doubts or insecurities that are lingering on.”

  She smiled softly and looked at him. He was turned towards her, waiting patiently for her to start. She was grateful for that. She sighed and took another sip of Cognac. She looked up at him and touched his thick, dark hair. She ran her hand across his shoulder, down his chest, and back to her glass. “You’re just so incredibly handsome. You took my breath away the first moment I saw you. I just don’t know why…” she stopped.

  “Why what?”

  “Why you
’re not dating up a storm right now.”

  “Because I’m crazy about you, that’s why,” he said, brushing her hair from her face and kissing her cheek.

  She smiled at the warmth in his touch. “Still though, you must have a lot of women coming onto you. I’ve seen it, at the ball, remember? You must’ve dated half of the high-society women in Manhattan.”

  He laughed. “I don’t know where you get these ideas about me.”

  “You’re gorgeous, successful, charming, a great cook…need I go on?”

  He regarded her for a moment. “I’ll be honest with you. I did date around a bit when I was younger.”

  She looked away. She braced herself for what, she was certain, would not be easy to hear.

  Noting her silence, he continued, “And what I found dating in these social circles you keep referring to, is that women wanted one of three things from me. Money. Status. Sex.”

  “I see,” she said.

  “Then you’ll also see that no where in that list is friendship, companionship, true connection, deeper feelings, love. None of them really wanted to get to know who I was. They didn’t care. I had something they wanted from that very short list and that was it.”

  “That doesn’t sound like women at all,” she said skeptically.

  “See, that’s just it. Not the ones you know. Not the person, the woman you are. The women you’re referring to are like…a different breed. They don’t think like you or I.”

  “But they’re so successful and they can afford designer things. They’re so done up, they look amazing…”

  He held his hand up. “First, their business success doesn’t keep you warm at night, or make you feel like you really matter as a person. Second, I like quality, but these women are slaves to labels and talk about them like they’re a life necessity. They’re not. And third, a lot of them actually look downright scary up close. Fake everything. I prefer a more natural look.”

  She smiled. She was really happy and relieved to hear that. “I understand what you’re saying there, but...” She hesitated.

  “But what?”

  She shifted in her seat. “Well, you also mentioned sex. What did you mean by that exactly?”

  He looked at her. “You won’t get mad at me? I mean these things happened before I knew you.” He touched her leg.

  “No,” she said, placing her hand over his and gently squeezing it. “I know that.”

  “Well,” he said, as he leaned forward and swirled his Cognac around in his snifter, “when I was a bit younger, I made the mistake of not getting to know people well enough before…you know.”

  “Having sex with them,” she blurted out.

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “I ended up paying for that mistake a couple of times.” He took a long sip of the amber spirit and looked at the fireplace, feeling momentarily lost in the flames that were burning away.

  Anabelle just waited for him to continue.

  He ran his fingers through his hair and then rubbed the stubble on his chin. “For example, years ago, I met this woman at a charity function. She was quite a bit older than me, but we ended up having a few things in common. She had traveled to Greece and knew a lot about it, she liked cooking, she was involved in a few charities, that kind of thing. We had a good time just shooting the breeze at the function. She was also pretty flirtatious, very touchy-feely throughout the night.”

  Anabelle took a sip of her Cognac. It’s warm, smooth bite was just what she needed right now.

  He continued, “At the end of the night I offered to walk her to her car. When we got there, she was all over me. I was a bit surprised, I mean I had kind of thought we’d be kissing goodnight, maybe make plans to go out together sometime. I didn’t expect to get jumped in the parking lot.” He cleared his throat.

  “And?”

  “And, I was kind of young and stupid, not really thinking and half-wasted. She had a lot to drink, too. So, she said that she wasn’t really in any shape to drive. I agreed. I should have thought of that before walking her to her car. Again, young and stupid.”

  Anabelle nodded for him to continue.

  “She said she should get a taxi and asked would I come with her while she hailed one. I said sure. On the way there, she said she thought she should stay at a hotel, to be closer by to pick up her car in the morning. That she lived quite far from the event.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Vicki,” he said. “She was about fourteen years older than me. I think I was 26, so she would’ve been around 40.”

  “Hmm. So then what happened?”

  “She convinced me to go with her, to make sure she got there safely. I didn’t really have anywhere to be but home by myself, so I said sure.” He took another sip of the Cognac. His eyes had a faraway look to them. “She was all over me in the taxi, too and asked me to walk her to her hotel room. Anyhow, as I said, I was young, not too bright, and pretty liquored up. She invited me into her room and well…”

  “I get it,” Anabelle said, not wanting to hear the details.

  “I woke up the next morning and she was gone. I had a pretty bad hangover. She left a note saying she had a wonderful time and that she’d call me soon so we could get together again.”

  Anabelle thought back to when she had also left him in a hotel room. She was feeling bad about it again, but she didn’t want to bring it up.

  Giorgio continued. “I thought I’d be at least some kind of a gentleman and call the next day and invite her to brunch. So you know, she didn’t think I was just a one-night stand kind of guy. I realized I didn’t have her number, so I looked her up via the charity. I called her at home. She was frosty to say the least and basically told me not to call her, that she’d call me and hung up.”

  “Wow, rude,” Anabelle said.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. I was pretty confused. I wondered if I had said or done something to offend her, I had been rather wasted after all. I decided to learn more about her, so I Googled her. I found out she had given me a fake name. Or rather, her maiden name. The one she went by for her charity work.”

  “What do you mean? She was divorced?”

  “Nope,” he said.

  “She was married?”

  “Yup.”

  “Separated?” she asked hopefully.

  He shook his head. “No.”

  Anabelle looked at him, not saying anything. She was getting worried as to where this story was going. She gripped her glass.

  He read her expression. “I see those wheels turning. No, I’m not the kind of guy to sleep with another man’s wife…at least knowingly.”

  “Okay,” she said, feeling a bit tense.

  “And I wouldn’t cheat on my wife either, if I had one, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  She turned red. “I wasn’t,” she lied, then had some Cognac to hide her face with the glass.

  “Mmmhmm,” he said, “well, hopefully you believe me now.”

  “I do,” she said.

  “Anyway, what could I do? I left it alone. I was furious and humiliated. She hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring and not one person at that event came up to me to tell me who she was, warn me that she was married. I figured out later that affairs are a rather common hobby amongst that lot.”

  “Really? Did you ever hear back from her?”

  He nodded and took a long sip of Cognac. “About a week later. She called to ask if I could meet her again at that same hotel mid-afternoon. Said she had a couple of free hours. Not one word about how she had spoken to me on the phone the last time.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Well, I sure as heck wasn’t going to be meeting her. I asked her what was up with her husband. She had the audacity to ask me what I meant.” He shook his head at the memory. “I said, you’re married, why did you sleep with me? She just laughed and asked me if I was kidding. I told her no, and asked what was going on. She told me I was ‘too much’ as she kept laughing.”

  “Laugh
ing? Brutal,” Anabelle remarked, frowning.

  “Exactly. I was getting mad,” he said, thrusting his hand out for emphasis. “She said I was naïve and to grow up. She said she saw me at the event, thought I was attractive, wanted to get me into bed, and that was that. It was just a little extra entertainment at the end of her night. She said her husband traveled a lot on business and he wouldn’t know and that he was probably doing the same thing. I said you don’t care about any of this? She said that of course she did, she enjoyed having sex with me, and wanted to keep doing it on the side.”

  “Wow, what did you say to that?”

  “Nothing.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I hung up on her. That was the last I ever heard from her.”

  “Geez,” Anabelle said. “That’s quite the experience. I can’t say that I’ve ever been with a married man.”

  “Good, I’d hope not,” he said, as he downed the rest of his Cognac. He leaned back on the sofa. “It’s a lousy thing to do.”

  “But you didn’t know.”

  He shook his head. “No, but still. I felt like crap about it.” He took a deep breath and looked over at her. “Now it’s your turn to tell me some of your dating horror stories.”

  She glanced down at the floor. “Other than Aaron leaving me after two years together for one of our fellow students, which I’ll admit hit me pretty hard and took a long time to get over, I don’t really have anything too crazy to report.”

  Giorgio nodded. “That experience probably made you a little cautious regarding men and about getting intimate with me.”

  “A little?” she said. “Oh yeah, it did. Something like that leaves a mark.”

  He saw her reaction. He could tell she was still damaged by the experience. He took her hand. “I’m sorry you were hurt like that.” His voice was soft, comforting. “It kind of makes sense why you’ve worried about me doing something to betray you.”

  She gave him a sad smile. “Yeah, I guess I can be pretty skittish and quick to panic sometimes.” She sipped her spirit.

  “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, tilting his head to the side, “but I’m glad that relationship didn’t work out. Not the way it ended of course. But it gave us a chance to be together.”