“Debt?”
“Our bet. You lost, remember?”
“Oh that… yes, well, what is it you want? No, let me guess,” she said, holding up her hand. “You want me to cook you a seven-course meal and serve it to you while wearing the black satin ensemble,” she said smartly, making every effort to look bored.
His low, sexy words cut through the feigned boredom. “What are you wearing beneath these rather stifling old-fashioned clothes you’re so anxious to get out of? What did you choose from the armoire this time?” he asked, trailing his forefinger down the vee of her blouse until it rested on the first pearl button.
“I… ah…”
“Tell you what, why don’t I show you the surprise I have for you and we’ll talk about how you’re going to pay your debt to me, eh, chérie?”
“But I thought the croquet court was the surprise…. It’s so lovely and…”
“It’s not the surprise.” Taking her mallet from her, he placed it in a custom-made wooden chest. Closing it, he retrieved the small leather-bound journal from the ground, tucked it inside his shirt and scooped Zoe up into his arms.
“Gr-rey…! What…?” She clasped his neck and clamped her other hand on her straw boater to keep it from falling.
“I’m making up your mind for you,” he explained, striding through the cedar hedge.
“Oh, just like being married,” she muttered.
“Not quite, I don’t think… you’re my mistress, remember.”
“Where are you taking me? Am I allowed to ask that, master?”
“Sure you can ask.”
“But you’re not going to answer me. As I said, just like being married.”
“I’m taking you to the barn, all right?”
“The barn?” she repeated, seeing it in the clearing just beyond.
“Your surprise, remember?”
“Aren’t you going to give me any hints?”
He appeared to consider the idea a moment, then said, “Okay, it’s something I saw you admire while I was following you in Paris.”
“Why did you follow me, anyway?”
“Perhaps I need a wife. Did you ever think of that?”
“Right, and perhaps I’m Sleeping Beauty.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“Oh, and I suppose one magic kiss from you and I’ll awaken.”
“Something like that.”
She looked at him doubtfully. “About my surprise…”
“Well, it’s something I saw you admiring when you were out with your friend before I approached you,” he said, putting her down when they reached the barn. “Now, once again I’m going to ask you to…”
“I know, close my eyes and trust you.”
“My, aren’t we becoming a good little mistress!”
“I think that’s an oxymoron,” she said dryly.
“Watch it, I may decide to keep your surprise.”
“And I may decide to let you, especially if it moos.”
“Okay, you can open your eyes now,” he said after leading her inside. It took a few minutes for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light coming in through the windows, but when she did, she let out a cry of delight.
“It’s beautiful! How did you know I’ve always wanted one?”
Grey laughed. “Because you were paying more attention to it than you were to me when Lauren-Claire was trying to point me out to you.”
Zoe didn’t pay any attention to him, she was tracing her hands over the exotic carousel horse. Dust motes danced in the sunlight filtering in the window, through which she could just make out the spring-fed pond beyond the low stone wall.
While the air was musty with the scent of hay stored in loose stacks in the rear of the barn, the area where they stood was empty except for the carousel horse.
“You like it, then?” Grey asked, coming up behind her, resting his hands upon her shoulders. It was a familiar, possessive touch.
She nodded her head, continuing to admire the exquisite creation. The white-and-gray horse looked rather like a knight’s steed, festooned in pastel livery fit for a festival in times past. A time of chivalry.
The swirled-brass pole stand it was mounted on twinkled in the sunlight. The wooden horse was carved as if caught midstride, hooves up and flying.
“Is it really for me?”
“Yes, it’s really yours,” Grey said, chuckling softly at her excitement. Taking her hands into his, he rained gentle kisses upon the insides of her wrists to shivering, sensuous effect. His satisfied smile was bone melting as he looked at her indulgently.
“About our little wager…” he began, his thumbs rubbing lightly at her wrists.
Zoe returned his smile, anticipating that he would cancel her debt to him in the romantic moment.
“Yes?” She smiled up at him.
“Time to pay up,” Grey said, reaching for the camera he’d placed on the floor by the window.
Her mouth fell open. “That’s my camera. How did it get here? I don’t understand….”
“I think you do.”
“You set this all up, didn’t you…?”
“That’s right. I want to take a few pictures of you posing with your present. You don’t mind posing for me, do you?”
It would be rude to refuse him when he’d gone to such lengths to please her. And truth be told, she was flattered that he wanted to take her picture. Flattered by the attention and companionship that had been sadly lacking in marriage.
“All right,” she agreed, though a bit apprehensively as he activated the battery for the camera’s flash.
“Come on, smile, chérie. At least pretend you’re having fun.”
“How many pictures are you planning on taking?”
“I only want to take a couple of you in that old-fashioned outfit. Consider it your present to me.”
“Be sure and get a good shot of the carousel horse,” she said, standing to one side of it.
“That’s good, stay right where you are. Now lift your hand and rest it on the saddle…like that.” He snapped the picture of her standing beside the horse, looking Sunday School innocent in her white finery.
“How about one of you up on the horse? Sitting sidesaddle,” he said, when she looked down at her long chiffon skirt.
“I’ll need a hand.”
“Sure.” Setting the camera aside, he came over to give her an assist onto the horse.
“How should we do this?” she asked, looking somewhat embarrassed and uncertain.
“Here… put your foot on my thigh,” he said, bending his leg to give her a stepping place.
“I can’t do that—your white pants.”
“Don’t be a silly goose. They already have grass stains on them from the croquet court. Besides, the cleaner’s very good.”
“Get a lot of grass stains on your pants, do you?”
“Nope. I usually wear jeans with the knee out, remember?”
She wondered what that told her about him.
“Okay—” she placed her foot on his thigh “—now grab hold of the brass pole.”
She did as he said, grabbing the pole that ran through the carousel horse just in front of the saddle. He boosted her up.
Moving back, he picked up the camera once again and looked through the lens as she settled herself. The flash as he clicked off another picture caught her by surprise. Moving around her, he clicked off several more.
“I thought you were only going to take a couple of pictures of me in this outfit.”
“Exactly,” he said, going down onto one knee and clicking off another. “Let’s try something else,” he suggested, joining her at the horse. He ran his finger beneath the strand of pearls at her neck, toying with them…toying with her, she realized.
“Maybe you could take off your…”
“Oh. Yes,” she said agreeably, eager to dissolve the suddenly torrid atmosphere. Purposely misunderstanding, sh
e moved to take off the straw boater.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I like the hat. Leave it on.” His fingers moved then… down the front of her blouse, working slowly to undo the pearl buttons as he held her captive with his gaze.
Moving back, he picked up the camera once again, looking at her through the lens. “I’m waiting.”
She took a deep breath, but did nothing further—made no move to follow his suggestion.
“The blouse, Zoe. I want you to take it off.”
“I don’t…”
He lowered the camera. “And your skirt.”
“Grey, I don’t think this is…”
“Zoe, look at the carousel horse. It’s a bit of whimsy. How can you love it so and not want to be fanciful? To set the whimsy inside you free? Do it, Zoe. Do it for me.”
She swallowed. “Turn around, then. Don’t watch me, okay?”
“You’re not serious?”
She sat waiting.
“Okay, okay,” he agreed, throwing up his hands and turning so his back was to her.
Her clothing made a rustling sound as she maneuvered her way out of the skirt and blouse, dropping them onto the floor, where they made the scene look like a lovers’ assignation, she thought.
“You can turn around now.”
Turning, he saw her sitting primly on the carousel horse, her hands nervously clasped in her lap, the look on her face shy, yet some how wanton.
Grinning sexily, he snapped her picture. “I like what you decided on from the armoire,” he said, his eyes appreciating the demicup sheer white bra, matching flirty garter belt and bikini panties set off by the straw boater, white stockings and bowed flat shoes.
“You know what I’d really like …”he said, winking at her.
“What?”
“I want you to pose for me… something provocative.”
“Grey!”
“Come on… you know you want to. I saw you in front of the mirror at Madame Blanche’s boutique, remember.”
“That was…”
“Wanton, naughty.”
“What do you want me to do…?” she asked, hesitant.
“I want you to straddle the horse, for starters,” he suggested with another wink.
“Turn around while I do it?”
“I’m getting dizzy with all this turning…” Grey muttered comically.
“Do it.”
He laughed at her turning of the tables and did as she instructed. But he waited impatiently, tapping his foot to let her know it.
“Okay,” she whispered a few minutes later.
He turned to the provocative vision. “Yes. Oh ye-eah…” he said, coming in with the camera for a close-up shot.
“Now take off your hat,” he instructed. “I want you to look mussed—like you’ve just been riding.”
Zoe did as he asked, setting the straw boater upon the carousel horse’s head.
“Good. Now shake your head. Run your fingers through your hair. Mess it up. Yeah, like that. Make it look sexy. You’ve got the greatest long hair, you know. Don’t ever get it cut. Never,” he demanded, snapping a picture.
Then another.
And another.
“Grey, I think you’ve taken enough pictures.”
“Just a few more….”
She didn’t answer.
“One more, okay?”
“Just one,” she agreed.
Setting the camera aside, he came over to her. “Here, let’s undo your stocking.” He eased his fingertip inside the top band of the sheer white nylon, where it was held by the frilly garter belt. With a flick of his fingers, he unsnapped it.
Warmth trailed down her leg as he eased the pale stocking down her thigh and calf to bunch it in a sheer cloud at her ankle in sexy dishabille.
Zoe ran her tongue over her dry lips.
“Yes…” he said, backing away and picking up the camera. “You look very naughty, chérie.”
Grey’s eyes were bright with desire as he instructed, “Now look at the camera, Zoe. Ahh… If you could see how the light looks on your skin…. Now, do one more thing for me. No, I’ll do it,” he said, coming to her. “Here, lean forward toward me and dip your shoulder just a little. Yeah, like that. Now, let me ease your breast out of one filmy cup here… a little farther….”
He backed away, lifting the camera and once again looked through the. lens. “Oh, yes… yes… you’re beautiful, chérie. Okay…now I want you to place both your hands on the brass pole. That’s right… now slide your hands up. Higher, reach up as far as you can,” he instructed, watching through the lens as her free breast stretched into a taut peak. “That’s good. Now I want you to roll your hips forward and dip your back. Oh, my…now look at me…look at me and say please…” he coaxed, his voice husky.
Zoe turned her head to the camera, trying to ignore the sensations the pose was creating, but the teeth biting into her bottom lip and the sultry look in her eyes gave her away to Grey.
The camera flashed.
“You must be out of film by now,” Zoe said, her voice cracking. He’d carried her along in his excitement until she was drenched in the scent of what they were doing.
“Film…? There’s no film,” Grey said.
“You’re rotten… you know that.”
His laugh was rich and lusty. Setting the filmless camera aside, he came toward her. “I think you deserve a dunking for that remark.” Plucking her from the carousel horse and laying her across his wide shoulder, he carried her from the barn as if she were the spoils of victory.
“Put me down!” she cried, flailing her feet wildly.
“Cut that out,” he ordered, giving her a swat on her soft bottom.
“Then put me down.”
“I fully intend to,” he said, laughing and stumbling as he carried her down the sloping path. When they reached the pond a rabbit scurried into a clump of nearby wildflowers and a flock of fantail doves fluffed their feathers at the disturbance the two humans were making.
“Grey, don’t you dare,” Zoe warned, when he rounded the low stone wall at one side of the pond and went to the edge of the water.
Ignoring her pleas, he began swinging her gently back and forth over the water.
“Don’t worry, chérie. I’m going to join you in just a minute.” With a final swing, he tossed her into the cool water with a splash.
Sputtering, she surfaced and began treading water, her hair streaming down in wet ringlets as she called out, “You really are rotten!”
“You said that already,” he replied, shrugging out of his clothes until he stood on the bank naked, his body honed to the perfection of a marble statue. Taking a running jump, he leaped into the water, his golden body arcing in a clean, splashless dive.
He disappeared beneath the surface and Zoe didn’t see him for a minute.
“Grey…?” she called, turning in the water.
A moment later she felt his hand jerk her ankle and yelped as he pulled her under the water, undressing her.
When they surfaced moments later, she’d gotten free and they were both beneath the low diving board that was mounted on the three-foot-high stone wall at the end of the pond.
“I’ve got an idea,” Grey said, grinning wickedly.
“You stay away from me,” she said, hitting the surface of the water with the edge of her hand, sending a splash of water into his face.
Grey slicked his hands back over his face and hair to get rid of the water, then began advancing upon her. The doves looked at him strangely as he began to cluck like a chicken to antagonize her.
“Cut it out…Okay, what’s your idea?” she asked, giving in.
“Can you manage to pull yourself up on the diving board?”
“What for? I can’t dive.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
She was still reluctant to leave the cover of the water. “I don’t know….”
“Do it.”
“But…”
“Do it.”
Looking around and seeing nothing but a few birds, she did as he requested.
“Okay,” he said when she’d pulled herself up and onto the low diving board. “Now sit down and scoot out to the very edge of the board. That’s right. A little farther.”
“I’m going to fall in,” she said, steadying herself as the board bounced slightly when he pulled himself up and knelt behind her.
“No, you’re not,” he said, steadying her and kissing the curve of her neck, water dripping from his hair to sluice down her front. “Look at our reflection in the water. It’s like looking through a glass block.”
“Mmm…” she said distractedly, studying the erotic picture they made.
“Stay where you are.” He slipped off the diving board back into the water. His grin was wicked as he tread water just in front of the board.
“Lean back and brace yourself on your hands,” he instructed.
“More mind pictures?” she asked, doing as he requested.
“Not exactly. Moving pictures are more like it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will in a minute. Point your toes and stiffen your legs. Like that. Now open your legs and lower them until your feet dangle in the water.”
Zoe gave in to the wanton sensation of cool water washing over her feet while the warm sun kissed her naked body.
Ducking his head, Grey dived beneath the water and came up at the very tip of the diving board, grabbing hold of it, his hands just behind where her buttocks rested on the very edge of the board.
“I’m slipping, Grey.”
“That’s okay, slip right here,” he said, pulling himself up and placing his head between her thighs, his tongue laving her.
She took a quick breath and closed her eyes on a sigh, letting her head fall back. A moan escaped her lips as her neck arched and she gave herself over to the building heat his warm, damp tongue fueled.
Unconsciously, she lifted one leg and bent it, allowing him freer access. As she did so, his tongue slid inside her, bringing forth the sensation she was aching for.
AN HOUR LATER found them ensconced in the château’s cozy library, polishing off a bottle of wine. Grey sat sprawled in the leather wing chair, wearing nothing more than his white grass-stained slacks. His bare toes played in the carpet as he drained his wineglass. Zoe wore only his abandoned white shirt. The shirttail skimmed her tanned thighs where she rested her empty wineglass as she lay stretched languidly on the sofa. Her head was cushioned by a nest of pillows.
Forbidden Fantasy Page 7
