by Janice Sims
She carefully regarded her body in the mirror. She was neither obsessed with perfection nor too critical of herself. Her body was strong and healthy. That mattered most to her. Not that that attitude hadn’t been hard won. She’d gone through a period when she was self-conscious about her body. Many models who were always being judged by how much they weighed, and were stripped naked in front of designers, dressers and myriad other people in the fashion business, had to distance themselves from rude comments. If you were smart you began to take all snide remarks for what they were: thoughtless and petty. Her brown, long-limbed, fit body with its pert breasts and nicely rounded bottom would pass muster.
* * *
Her cell phone rang a little after seven. Eric said, “Are you dressed yet?”
Ana knew what that meant: he was taking the Harley for a spin tonight. She looked down at her slinky red dress. “No, I’m still trying to decide what to wear.”
“How would you like to go to Mario’s in Queens tonight? We love the place and there’s room to park the bike on the street.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Ana said cheerfully. She didn’t feel much like wearing heels tonight anyway.
“See you in twenty,” said Erik, his voice husky.
Ana hung up the phone and went to her walk-in closet and began putting together an outfit conducive to a bike ride through the city.
She emerged ten minutes later wearing black jeans, black leather boots, and a red cashmere sweater. Just because she was going to be on the back of a Harley didn’t mean she couldn’t feel girly.
She’d checked the weather forecast earlier and it was going to be in the forties tonight. She chose a jacket with a warm lining and a knit cap to go over her simple braid down her back. A spray of her favorite perfume, which she walked through while it was still a mist in the air finished her preparations for tonight.
Erik was there on time, and when she opened the door her breath caught in her throat. He looked good in a suit, but he absolutely made her melt when he wore leather. His muscular body was made for jeans and biker boots. His black leather jacket was open and she couldn’t help running her hand inside it to caress his pectorals through his soft denim shirt. Erik grasped her hand, pulled her against him, their pelvises touching. He gently reached up to smooth her brow with the pad of his thumb, and then he kissed her upturned mouth. His scent, the warmth of his mouth, the hard muscles beneath his hot skin all became temptations that Ana could not resist. She gave herself over to his kiss, completely abandoning any thoughts of decorum and what impression she might be making. She was hungry for him and enjoyed every erotic thrust of his tongue as he slowly tasted her. She relished the feel of his firm lips as he turned this way and that, maximizing her pleasure.
She gazed dreamily at him when they parted. Momentarily weak with desire, she smiled up at him. “You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you since this afternoon.”
Erik laughed softly. “Yes, I think I can.”
Ana grinned from ear to ear when she felt his erection on her thigh. “I think you do.”
There was definitely something to the term lovesick, Erik thought. Only hours since he’d seen Ana and he could hardly wait to see her again, touch her again, feel her lips on his. Love was a kind of madness you never wanted to be cured of.
He grabbed her hand. “Ready?”
* * *
Over dinner Erik told her about Drusilla’s accident and that she was just fine, no need to worry. Then he told her he’d mentioned to his dad that they were dating.
“How did he react?” she asked cautiously. She knew his family liked her and she liked them, but still she wanted their blessing.
Erik’s golden-brown eyes held amusement in their depths. “Dad thought we were already secret lovers and Drusilla is just happy we’ve finally made it official.”
“Your dad thought we were sleeping together?” Ana said, laughing nervously. “That surprises me.”
“Me, too,” Erik told her, “but I shouldn’t have been. He’s my father. He knew how I felt about you and he was maintaining a positive attitude about our relationship. Hoping we were more than friends even when we weren’t.”
“When you put it that way, it was sweet of him to think we were lovers,” Ana said.
“It’s a sign of how much he likes you,” Erik said, his tone gentle. “They all do.”
“I love them,” Ana said simply.
Erik grasped her hand across the tiny table for two. Mario’s, an elegant family-owned restaurant, had been a mainstay in its Queens neighborhood for more than fifty years. Sunday night was popular for couples and the restaurant was fully booked.
Each time Erik brought Ana here he thought it would be the ideal place to propose. The idea ran through his mind tonight, too, but he stamped it down, way down. It was much too soon for that. But he enjoyed entertaining the idea.
Mario’s menu consisted of dishes from southern Italy, rich red sauces, handmade pastas, crisp vegetables, all cooked with slow deliberation.
He watched as Ana ate a forkful of pasta dripping in tomato sauce. She took a sip of red wine afterward and mopped up the remaining sauce on her plate with a piece of crusty bread. Bringing the bread to her lips she ate it with something akin to ecstasy in her expression. Erik smiled. “Enjoying your pasta?”
Ana looked down at her clean plate, “Enjoyed it.”
They ordered two desserts and shared them. Erik fed her some of his lemon tart. She plied him with tiramisu. They took a walk after leaving the restaurant. The night was quiet on this street. Other couples were out, too, holding hands, sitting on benches or frequenting the open shops. Erik and Ana stopped to check out the display in a bookstore window.
“They’ve got the new Walter Mosley,” said Erik. “I know you’d love to get your hands on that. Too bad they’re closed.”
Ana peered at the book a pout forming, “It’s a Leonid McGill mystery, too. I love that character.”
Erik took her hand as they resumed their walk they put their arms about each other’s waists and Ana put her head on his shoulder.
“This is what I love about New York,” Erik said. “Even if what you want is a quiet evening out with your girl, you can find it somewhere in the five boroughs.”
“I like Queens,” Ana agreed. “There’s much more greenery here. Houses actually have gardens.”
Erik smiled at her use of gardens. Not many people he knew called a yard a “garden.”
But Ana had grown up in Europe where people said this even if they didn’t grow flowers or vegetables.
“Gardens aren’t unheard of in Manhattan,” he said. “I’ve seen some elaborate rooftop gardens.”
“Yes, I suppose if you have the money you can have a garden put on your roof or your terrace,” she conceded. “But I like these gardens better.”
Erik stopped in his tracks and peered down at her. “We could put a garden on the terrace of the penthouse. There’s plenty of room for one.”
Erik lived in the penthouse of the building that Whitaker Enterprises owned in Manhattan. His father used to live there but had taken up permanent residence in Connecticut since his retirement. “In fact, there are a couple of vacancies in the building. Why don’t you move in?”
He wanted to take back what he’d said the moment the words were out of his mouth. Ana would think he was moving way too fast. He had to slow himself down. But his first instinct was to take their relationship to the level where it should rightly be by now: totally committed.
She laughed softly instead. “Your dad thought we were lovers just because we spent so much time together as friends. Imagine what our families would think if we lived in the same building?”
“I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of myself. On the other hand, we’re consenting adults. What does it matter what they think
?”
“My dad’s a devout Catholic. Believe me, I’ve had enough preaching about remaining pure from him and my grandmother when I was growing up. It’s a wonder I’m capable of a normal sex life. He laid into Dominic when Dominic started living with Elle and told him to marry her if he loved her, and stop stringing her along. Now, if you don’t want a visit from my father, we should live in separate buildings for a while longer.”
Chuckling, Erik said, “Fine. But I’m still going to have a garden planted for you.”
“It’s nearly November. It’s too cold for a garden,” Ana said.
“A greenhouse, then,” he said. “You can grow flowers year round.”
She squeezed him affectionately. “That’s so romantic.”
Erik hugged her close and kissed her cheek. “I’m going to enjoy spoiling you.”
One of the things Erik had missed when they weren’t dating was not being able to give Ana romantic gifts. He’d tried to give her a diamond bracelet for her birthday last year and she’d handed it back to him with, “You’re so good to me, Erik, but this is not the sort of gift a friend gives a friend.” It had been yet another reminder for him to keep his distance. He couldn’t help resenting the moment just a little bit.
On the ride back to her loft, Ana clung to Erik, the side of her face pressed to his solid back. She was giddy with anticipation. Would tonight be the night? She had tried not to make herself nervous with wondering exactly when they would make love. Erik had said it had to be an event. What constituted an event to him, she wondered. As far as she was concerned, tonight’s date had been eventful enough. In fact, hadn’t their confession of love for each other been one?
At her building they ran up the stairs to the top floor. She paused at the door after unlocking it. It was Sunday night and it would only be polite to ask him if he wanted to come in for coffee, not being too insistent about it. He had work in the morning, after all. She didn’t want to seem too eager. Going through the niceties would offset that notion.
Looking into his eyes, her own expression innocent, she softly said, “I’ve got a new Kona blend I’d like you to try.”
“I’m game,” said Erik and reached out and turned the doorknob. Ana smiled seductively, her confidence shooting up instantly, as she backed inside, pulling him with her. She closed and locked the door then took his coat and put it in the foyer closet along with hers. Gesturing to the comfortable sectional in the living room area of the loft, she said, “Relax,” knowing that word was a foreign concept to Erik.
She went to the kitchen. Erik went over to the far wall where her entertainment system was shelved. He put Adele’s latest CD in the player. Although Ana was lately into classic blues performers she also liked contemporary artists if their sound harkened back to yesteryear.
In the kitchen Ana heard Adele’s soulful voice. She smiled as she measured coffee beans into the grinder. Maybe he was going to make this an eventful night. She was getting excited by the prospect.
Once she’d gotten the coffeemaker going, she went back to see what Erik was up to. She found him in her studio looking at the portrait of Drusilla.
Hearing her footsteps on the hardwood floor he smiled at her. “You really are talented.” He gazed at her with a mixture of awe and admiration, his expression so intense that Ana had to lower her own. She looked at the portrait instead. In it Drusilla was sitting in the garden at the New Haven house. It was springtime and she was surrounded by flowering trees and plants in huge clay pots.
“Don’t mention it to her. It’s her birthday gift.”
Erik went to stand beside her as he continued admiring the painting. “She’s gonna love it. However, I have to say you made her much more angelic-looking than she is in real life.”
“That’s how I see her,” Ana said. She laughed shortly. “I’m fully aware her behavior frustrates you sometimes. She’s headstrong, and says whatever comes to her mind. In that way she reminds me of Grandma Renata. But she’s been sweet to me from the first time we met.”
“It’s true,” said Erik. “She only tries to control family members.” Wait until we’re married, he thought. She’ll be on your case every day asking when you’re going to make her a great-grandmother.
“What was that?” said Ana, “You had the funniest expression on your face.” She gazed up at him, brows raised inquisitively. “What were you thinking?”
He couldn’t dare tell her what he’d been thinking. So he said, “I was just thinking how nervous I am being here alone with you when we’ve been alone countless times before.”
That was true. Now that the dynamics had changed and there was actually the possibility of their making love tonight, he was nervous. He worried that if he made a move on her she would have the image of Jack Russo in the back of her mind. Was she entirely over that creep?
“I know,” Ana said. “I’m nervous too and I’ve been tormenting myself trying to figure out what exactly you think an event is.”
Erik laughed shortly and took her in his arms. “I wish I’d never said that. It took some of the spontaneity out of what’s happening between us. But I wanted you to know that getting you into bed is not my main goal. Marriage is. And if you want to wait until we’re married, I would be willing to do that.”
“Are you asking me to marry you?” She stared at him with wide eyes and an even wider grin.
“Honestly, I would have married you two years ago,” Erik said. So there, the secret was out.
Ana was waiting for him to say the words, Will you marry me, or something to that effect. She blinked. “You were saying?” she gently prodded him.
Erik gave her a puzzled look. Then, it dawned on him what she was asking him and he decided to go the old-fashioned route. He got down on one knee right there in her studio and grasped her hand in his. “Ana Maria Corelli, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Tears sprang to Ana’s eyes. “Yes, Jonathan Erik Whitaker, it would make me very happy to become your wife!”
Erik rose, and Ana flew into his arms. Then they were kissing hungrily with words of love interspersed between the kisses.
“I love you so much,” he breathed.
“It’s always been you,” she told him. “How could I have been so blind?”
“I should have had the ring before I asked you.”
“The ring doesn’t matter. Just that you love me.”
“My darling, you will get a ring!” Erik promised.
“Make love to me,” said Ana breathlessly, her beautiful brown eyes beseeching him. Erik could not deny her a thing when she looked at him that way. However, as his feverish mind soon realized, there was a problem. He was not the sort of man who carried a spare condom in his wallet thereby making that telltale indentation in the leather. He was now looking at Ana beseechingly. “I didn’t bring any condoms.”
From the expression on Ana’s face, a look of utter disappointment, he could tell she didn’t have any, either. “I could go to an all-night drugstore.”
Ana knew her neighborhood better than he did. “The closest drugstore closed at midnight.”
That took the edge off their excitement. They gazed into each other’s eyes and burst out laughing. “Are we lame, or what?” Erik said between guffaws. “Both of us undoubtedly with sex on our minds but neither of us thought to buy condoms. Is there any hope for us?”
“Obviously, not tonight,” Ana quipped, “Ah, well, I’ve waited this long for you. I can wait another twenty-four hours. But you will be mine tomorrow night, do you hear me?” she asked sternly, the smile wiped entirely off her face. “I’ve got some serious pent-up sexual tension in need of release.”
“Damn it, I’ll get on my bike and ride until I find an open drugstore,” Erik said, turning to head to the foyer closet where his keys were in his jacket pocket.
Ana grasped his arm. “You are not going out into the night when you can be here cuddling with your fiancée.”
Erik looked into her upturned face and sighed in frustration. “I will never be caught unprepared again,” he vowed.
Chapter 5
Ana stayed busy on Monday. She had an appointment to meet with Damon Cohen at his gallery to discuss the upcoming show. Scheduled for the first week of December, Damon assured her that her work was in competent hands.
When she arrived at the gallery in Soho, Damon was with a client. His receptionist, a tall thin redhead, her hair tucked away in a smooth chignon, smiled up at her and said, “Mr. Cohen is expecting you, Ms. Corelli. He won’t be long. May I offer you a coffee while you wait?”
Ana rarely refused coffee, but she was very discriminating about where her coffee came from. “What kind?”
“It’s Jamaican,” said the receptionist.
“I’d love some, thank you,” Ana replied pleasantly as she sat on the off-white leather couch and crossed her legs.
The receptionist was back in less than a minute with a steaming cup of coffee complete with saucer and spoon. “Black, two sugars,” she said, letting Ana know she remembered how she took her coffee.
“How thoughtful,” said Ana, as she accepted the coffee and took a sip. “Delicious.”
The receptionist smiled her appreciation and returned to her desk.
Ana enjoyed her coffee in contemplative silence. She wondered what Erik was doing right now? He was probably in a meeting. He conducted meetings via computer with the officers of the company from all over the world. He liked being abreast of any new developments, no matter how minor. It amazed her that he was capable of mentally juggling everything with such ease. But he said it was a talent he’d learned from his father who was famous for multitasking. Sometimes she thought his penchant for business was hereditary. He didn’t mind working long hours, actually thrived on it.
