Chapter Two
Kadence slid out of the taxi, adjusting the hem of her tight little black dress while jostling the cardboard tube holding the canvas. She was so glad she’d sprung for the outfit after Michel had purchased one of her first paintings. Of course, she’d bought it to go out on the town with Jane, not expecting a night out with her benefactor. Hopefully, it would do. She wobbled a step as her heel caught in a crack in the sidewalk. Stilling herself, she looked down at the six inch Louboutin knock-offs she’d bought from a street vendor and hoped no one inside would be able to tell the difference. Not like she’d ever see these people again. This wasn’t the typical crowd she rolled with. Four hundred dollar dinners were not in her budget.
Tonight she could pretend a little. Here, she wasn’t a temp, working at whatever office gig she could find to help pay the bills. She wasn’t the girl who sometimes waited tables with Jane to make ends meet. And she definitely wasn’t the girl who bought knock-off designer shoes from street vendors.
No, tonight she was an artist dining at one of the most exclusive restaurants on the Upper West Side with one of her patrons. Thankfully, with her past gig waiting tables, she would know which fork to use and not make a total ass of herself. At least, she hoped.
Nervous fingers spread down her dress one more time, wanting to make sure that the hem covered the naughty lingerie she wore tonight. Jane had talked her into buying the frilly under things, saying that every woman should have something sexy with garters to make her feel hot. On a lark, Kadence had donned them before slipping into her dress. Now, she feared that everyone would see what she had on and label her a harlot. Quelling her fears, she shook her head to get the thoughts to leave her be. The silk and lace made her feel sexy, feminine, and powerful. So what if someone saw a peek of it?
Walking through the front door, she looked around the restaurant and was a bit disappointed. The sterile gray and brown walls didn’t excite her in the least, and it was as quiet as a library. She nearly wished her heels would stop clack-clack-clacking over the floor. She felt she might be disrupting the patrons from their somber meals. As she reached the maître-d, she whispered her party name, wondering if he could hear her jackrabbiting heartbeat above the decibel of her voice.
The faux-French maître-d looked her over from head to toe as if sizing her up, and she felt a pang of fear. What if she didn’t measure up to her client? What if Michel took one look at her and didn’t think she was the right “type” to be creating the artwork she sold him? What if she never got another order from him? She didn’t rely on his money, as such, but it had been nice to be able to pay her bills on time and sneak a little money into her savings as well. Well, okay, maybe she had come to rely on him some.
“This way,” the maître-d spoke in hushed tones after giving her the once over. Falling into step behind him, she saw the great expanse of windows that looked over Central Park. No wonder the walls were so plain, the real decoration was nature. She wondered what it looked like in mid-day, the sun streaming through the glass, the verdant greens of life on display for all to see as they sipped their expensive champagne. Birds, bees, and butterflies would flitter by, the rich colors of spring and summer flowers peeking in.
She spread her fingers across her stomach to try and quell her own wild butterflies raging there. The maître-d stopped before a table, his wide shoulders hiding the man she was there to meet. She’d been so curious about the décor that she really hadn’t paid attention to where they’d been heading. Actually, she hadn’t even looked at the other patrons they passed, so enthralled by the view of the park. Even in darkness, she’d seen the twinkling lights on the path, as well as the low hanging moon illuminating the space, and had gotten a good idea of the beauty it held. The maître-d stepped to the side of her chair, pulling it out for her, and she got her first view of the man behind the table.
Smiling up at her, he was handsome, maybe more so than she’d expected. Dark brown hair was slightly longer than was fashionable, with a hint of gray at the temples. His deep green eyes twinkled with a wisdom she’d rarely seen before. He quickly rose from his seat, holding out a hand to her, his suit the very best cut of dark gray silk, the white of his starched shirt made even brighter by his deeply tanned skin. He was huge, towering well above her five-foot-ten frame, and that was counting the heels, so he was easily six and a half feet tall, if not more. She stepped closer to the table and placed her palm in his, and he lifted her fingers to his mouth, dropping a quick kiss to them.
“Enchanté.” His voice was a deep baritone, just as she’d expected, but she’d never expected the slight French accent. “I’m so lucky to finally have the pleasure to meet you, Kadence.”
The hard K he spoke when he enunciated her name made her whole body stand up and take notice. Her pussy warmed with the look of pure lust that filled his face. Perhaps she’d been wrong about his sexual persuasion. God, she hoped so. She looked into his stunning eyes and felt lost in the depths. The maître-d ruined the moment with a cough, signaling her to sit. She lowered into the seat and allowed the man to move her chair closer to the table. Once she looked up again, Michel had seated himself and was waving over a waiter.
“A glass of champagne for the lady, s’il vous plaît.” Michel turned his focus back to her as soon as the instruction was spoken. He was a man used to having his orders followed, and there was something very sexy about that. “I have instructed the staff to bring us the nine-course chef tasting, so you can enjoy a sampling of their delicacies.”
“Sounds delightful.” She didn’t need food. She just needed him to keep talking. All. Night. Long. His voice was enough to give her an orgasm.
The waiter poured her a glass from the bottle of Pernod-Ricard Perrier-Jouet. She suddenly felt uncomfortable. The restaurant, the champagne, the money he’d spent on her paintings…was he trying to buy her? While the dream of finding a rich man to whisk her out of her Cinderella life sounded good on paper, there was something slightly off-putting about being bought outright. She needed to ensure she wouldn’t get caught up in the world he waved around her.
He sat back in his chair; his relaxed pose showed a man who was at one with his surroundings. But he didn’t have the affected demeanor of a snob, either. His suit, while well-cut, had no tie and his shirt was open at the throat—he looked comfortable yet sophisticated all at once. She imagined he would look just as relaxed in a seedy bar in the WestVillage. His inner grace was potent and made her feel at ease as well. Yet, at the same time, she felt the smoldering lust that churned just below the surface, not just in herself, but emanating from him, too.
Looking down to the table, she noticed it was set for three, not two. A question formed on her lips, but she was caught off-guard by his interjected comment. The richness of his voice washed over her like fine liquor rolling down her tongue.
“I’m so happy you could make it tonight.” His eyes twinkled with mirth and she felt like sighing at the devastating smile he gifted her with.
“I appreciate the invitation. I’ve been so curious about you.”
“As have I.” He steepled his fingers before him, his elbows resting on the sides of his chair as he stared longingly at her. “How long have you been painting?”
“I’ve painted nearly all my life. It’s always calmed me.” It had. It had been her escape ever since she’d been a young girl. Everyone needed a creative outlet.
“To find a way to improve your life while doing what you love, even better.” He lifted his glass and offered her a toast. They clinked glasses and Kadence took a hardy sip, trying to calm her frayed nerves. Once she settled her glass, she felt heat rushing over her and she lifted her eyes. He openly appraised her.
She felt her nipples tightening.
“Absolutely, I’ve always hoped to work doing what I love, not just toiling to make money in order to live.” She looked away, seeking the shelter of the nighttime park once again. His insistent attention was making her flustered, his eyes
boring into her. She searched for things to say, something to fill the strangling sexual tension that was already filling the space. “I bet the view here in the daylight is incredible.”
“I will have to bring you back some day to see it.”
The implied future event gave her pause. Her heart leapt at the thought of more. Michel had a physical pull, intriguing in a sexual nature alone. She wanted to know more. But, she also needed to keep a firm foot near the brakes and not let a runaway train hit her. She looked again at the third setting. “Are we being joined?”
“Oui. A friend of mine would also like to meet you. He’s become a fan of your work, as well.”
“On that note, I have the art here.” She handed him the container and quickly tucked the envelope holding her payment into her small clutch after he handed it over. “May I ask you a question?”
“Oui. Of course.”
“What is it about my paintings that made you want to purchase them?” She leaned in, placing her elbows on the table, even if it were a no-no. She wanted to see his expression as he answered her.
“I believe I can better answer that than Michel.” A rich, deep voice sounded from behind her.
Kadence twisted in her seat and looked over her right shoulder.
Expressively blue eyes were framed by a strong brow and a straight nose. His cheekbones were high, but the firm, chiseled edge of his chin didn’t allow his face to look feminine in any way. Light, brown hair was longer than what she usually liked in a man, but it looked right for him. A very tall, thick, muscled body was something hard to rage against her softness.
It was the man from her dreams. She felt her legs turn to rubber and her eyes bug from her head. Her lips parted as she ogled the man.
“I don’t think there is any explanation needed at this point, hmm, querida?” He stepped forward, pulling his seat back and lowering his long frame into it.
There was nothing but questions running through her head. Who was he? Why had she dreamed of this man? What did any of this mean?
He was so wrong. There was a lot of explaining that needed to happen, and fast.
He’d been with her almost every night for two years. She’d woken to complete sexual frustration because of him. It felt as if she knew him, intimately, although she knew full well she didn’t. But he looked exactly like he did in her dreams.
He was stunning.
The only part she hadn’t expected was the slight Spanish accent to his voice. But the deep rumble that had come from him was as equally effective as Michel’s was. It was then she realized she was still staring open-mouthed at him. Blood and heat rushed to her face as she peeled her eyes from him and looked to Michel, questions bubbling into her throat.
“What is this? Who are you?” Kadence looked between both men, her breath catching in her throat.
“This is the friend I was telling you about. Kadence, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Don Francisco Gabriel Miguel Fernandez de la Cueva, or as I like to call him, Gabriel.”
Gabriel reached a hand to her. She looked at it, feeling the room begin to swirl around her. She was unsure if she could move a muscle, let alone take his hand. He lowered his head and caught her gaze. Captured in his stare, she reached her palm into his. Time, and the room, stood still.
There was no one else there but the two of them. Kadence felt an exquisite pull toward him. She watched, unconnected, as he lifted her hand to his mouth before moving her stare back to his crystal clear, blue eyes. His heat against the back of her hand sizzled down her arm and into her entire body.
She was spellbound.
“So, querida, may I ask how I became the focus of your attention?”
“Whaat?” So, she was staring? He was beautiful.
“Your art. Do we know one another? I can’t imagine forgetting someone as beautiful as you.”
Art. Oh, right, art. “I’ve been dreaming of your face for two years. So, of course it would end up bleeding into my work.” Wait a minute. Did he just call me beautiful?
“Dreaming? Of me?” A slight frown marred his gorgeous face.
“Yes, ever since I moved to New York.”
Gabriel turned to look at Michel, who wore the same frown on his face. “And what happens in these dreams?” Michel asked.
Heat flooded her face. How could she say that she nearly had sex with Gabriel every single night in her sleep?
“Never mind, I can imagine from the look on your face, chéri,” Michel looked somewhat uncomfortable.
“Nothing ever happened in the dreams, not really. Nothing was…” She was at a loss for the right word.
“Consumado?” At her obvious look of not understanding, Gabriel added, “Consummated?”
More heat flooded her face. “Yes. Nothing was…consummated.”
She looked to Gabriel to gauge his reaction. The look of lust was overwhelming. Her dreams may not have been consummated, but from his gaze and the heat in his eyes, she thought he wanted to remedy that. And she wasn’t sure if she would stop him. Miss Prim and Proper would easily become a wanton for this man.
Chapter Three
Gabriel looked the young woman over. From his investigations, she’d seemed a mousey female, almost to the point of boring. She’d no connections to the powers that be, at least from what he could determine. He’d had Michel purchase every piece of art with his face on it in order to get them off the insipid website. It had been a demand of the purchase. Unknowingly, she could have made herself a target. Thankfully, she’d begun selling each of the new pieces directly to Michel and he had necessitated the new ones never made it to the site.
She wasn’t what he’d expected. The photographs he’d found when he dug, coupled with the comments the delivery men had given him, had not prepared him for the creature that sat across from him. Kadence was lovely, her pale skin flawless. Her wide lavender eyes were mesmerizing. Her deep russet hair was tied into an intricate knot on her head, but the unruly curls had already begun to escape, twirling around her slender neck. He wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and unpin the length, letting it cascade down her bared back. Even more, he thought how incredible it would look twisted between his fingers as he pumped his cock into her from behind.
The tight black dress she wore over her curvaceous body left little to the imagination yet didn’t make her look tawdry. She was voluptuous, a seductive creature that most men of this time did not glory in as they should. He’d watched her as she’d walked into the restaurant. She had floated in, her plump ass perfectly rounded and moving with a sensuality he wasn’t prepared for. It was the kind of ass a man could hold on to when he was betwixt her thighs, pounding his cock into her quim.
All he could think about was having his way with her in his bed, but questions hovered on the edges of his mind. She’d dreamed of him every night since coming to the city he lived in. Sexually explicit dreams from the look to her face, but not consummated. What a pity. He was more than ready to blow her dreams out of the water.
But why would she dream of him in the first place? He was sure he’d never met her before. There was no way he’d ever forget this woman. Ever.
“Did we ever talk in your dreams?”
She looked confused a moment and more heat flooded her face. Her skin was so pale that she blushed often and quite easily. He liked the trait. She looked lovely with the deep pink on her cheeks. He bet her other set of cheeks would look just as lovely tinged in red. His hand itched to spank her rounded bottom.
“No, there was never any talking. Just touching, holding, a few kisses.”
He chuckled. There was no way he would limit himself to just that with her. And if there was no talking, she didn’t know of his secrets. Even better. “Was I a good kisser?”
She reddened again. It was charming. “Yes.”
“I was? Perhaps I will have to kiss you for real so you can compare me with my alter ego.”
The desire in her expression was intoxicating. He would have
her in his bed tonight. There was no doubt in his mind.
A waiter placed a plate in front of Kadence before returning to do the same for Michel and him. His champagne glass was filled, the others refilled. He watched her while the waiter worked soundlessly, the tension around the table thick. She eyed her plate before looking up to him, the hunger in her eyes not for food. His cock thickened, the need to give her what she needed paramount.
Once the waiter had described the dish and left them, Michel picked up a fork and eyed Kadence with the same hunger Gabriel was sure affected his gaze. He’d used his friend to get her here tonight, knowing she might have turned and bolted if she’d seen him first. Then he would have had no answers to his questions. But now he ruffled at Michel’s presence and his obvious interest in the woman.
She wasn’t what he’d expected, at all. Sensual in nature, beautifully feminine, she was a treat for any man.
The dreams? Why would she dream of him? Part of him liked that she’d spent her nights dreaming of him, of being in his arms. The other part considered the implications of those nightly visits.
Kadence lifted her fork, capturing a small amount of the infamous oyster and pearls before spooning it into her mouth. The intense look of her food orgasm gave him a brief glimpse of what her face would look like later tonight. When she was straining under him as he pressed his hard shaft into her tight sheath.
“This is…delicious.” The breathy tone to her voice had his cock twitching. He reached down carefully and adjusted himself without her notice.
Another emotion, not the lust he’d felt from the onset, but something else simmered under his skin. He couldn’t put his finger on it quite yet, but there was something about this woman that made him sit up and pay close attention. And something else told him that one night with her would never be enough.
Deviant Knights Page 2
