Arousal Page 4

  He took a deep breath and looked at his wristwatch.

  “My grandmother may be dying.” His voice lowered. “I don’t have time to spare.”

  “Oh my God, sorry to hear about your grandmother.” I could somehow sense that he was telling the truth. “Is all this so she can be here to see your wedding day?” That made more logical sense to me than anything else he was talking about.

  “Something like that. She cannot leave this earthly plane in peace until she knows I have found my true partner,” he said, speaking softly. “There are also certain traditions and birthrights that must be passed along to me, formally, upon her passing.”

  I searched his eyes. “There are dozens of women in that room ready to chew off your underwear, including my boss. Why me?”

  “Because you are the one … I am drawn to you by magnetism far more powerful than anything I’ve ever known or that I can even explain.” He reached out to touch his palm to my cheek. “And because you are sincere and…” He stared out at the moon and paused before speaking again. “I followed my instincts to find you, and trust I was led to you, Allison Monroe, for a reason.”

  A shock of energy moved from my face down to my toes. His touch was electric. My body swayed and leaned into his hand. Yet discomfort rumbled through me at the same time. Either this was real but way out of my comfort zone, or my body was screaming at me to leave while I could. Maybe it was both. I wasn’t sure so I backed away, out from under his touch, and tried to gather my wits.

  “I’m not going to be your insta-wife,” I said definitively. “Like who does that, anyway?”

  “Fine.” He paused to give my words some thought. “Then be my fake fiancé or my pretend soul mate.”

  “You’re not serious—wait, are you serious?” Sweat was beading on my neck. I reached up and flipped my hair off my shoulder.

  “Yes, very. Let’s be practical. You’re more comfortable with business than talk of destiny, and I’m willing to be proactive about fate. We’ll make a deal. It can work for us both.”

  “Like, what kind of deal?”

  Another gust of wind flew by us. It was so strong that, for a moment, I felt I would lift off the patio. He stepped closer and held my shoulders to anchor me.

  “You hang out with me for a few days, get to know me, and help me attempt to fulfill my grandmother’s wishes,” he said, leaning in. “At the end of a few days, let her see us together so she can be at peace. Along the way, you give me a chance to prove my sincerity. Give me six days. If you don’t care for me by then, you walk away. If you feel something for me, you—”

  “Six days? Why?”

  “As I mentioned earlier, some things have an expiration date.” He let go of me and looked over at the Empire State Building where the waxing crescent moon was hovering. “Our expiration date is the full moon on Sunday.”

  “Are you going to turn into a werewolf?” I tried to bring a little levity to the situation. But heaviness filled the air when it took him a while to answer.

  “My grandmother’s intuitive vision specified a window of six days, starting the day we met. It is said that the doors to heaven will open on this full moon, but the door to opportunity closes if I do not step in with you by my side,” he said. “I’m not saying she is dying tomorrow, but doctors told me yesterday she may not have long.”

  “Oh no.” My hand instinctively went to his arm to soothe him.

  “My hope is that even if you pretend there is a possibility that you are my Ves’tacha, that you will come to like me in real life. This is important because we must consummate our union by the full moon.” He said it as if he were delivering a normal piece of information. “This can only happen if you truly care for me, love me even. True love is the only container strong enough to hold the super powers that are destined to be directed to us both.”

  “Okay, here’s where my mouth drops open because this sounds bat shit crazy.” I didn’t even try to use polite language.

  He appeared to be taken aback for a moment but then an amused smile crossed his face. “So just pretend it is a possibility, for my grandmother’s sake. Along the way, give me a real chance.”

  “Where exactly do you hail from that people believe these things?”

  “Transylvania.” Again, he delivered the information as if it were a normal thing to say.

  I tried not to shake my head in disbelief. Or roll my eyes. I was sure he would crack a smile and tell me he was kidding. He didn’t.

  “Where Dracula lives? That Transylvania? I didn’t know it was a real place.”

  “It’s a beautiful place in central Romania,” he said. “Dracula did come from there, but not Bram Stoker’s version. The people there are known for intuition and a connection to the natural world. It’s the world I come from. It’s why I trust what I know. I have enough belief to get us both through this.”

  My heart started racing again. Every time he said something strange, that’s how my body reacted. But at the same time, I was drawn to him like we were two neodymium magnets. I worried the powerful force could crush me as it sucked me in.

  I tried pressing my back against the pillar and holding on to the rail but on my high heels, I lost my balance. I was about to crumble to my knees when Nicolai grabbed hold and steadied me in his arms. And suddenly, I wanted to be in his arms. There I was, one moment questioning him for pushing this destiny idea on me and the next, in his arms. Silently, he held me, until my vitals stabilized. My face was flush against his shirt. He held my head against his chest.

  And when he began to gently caress my head, hair and back while he held me, I was overcome with desire for him. I didn’t want it to feel so right, but it did.

  Next thing I knew, one large finger lifted my chin up toward his lips and he kissed me. It was a kiss I felt all over my body. Desire moved me to hold his face and pull him closer, devouring his lips, his mouth, and his tongue. I wanted him—more of him, all of him. As if a spell had been cast, I suddenly believed this crazy idea was real. A hunger rose from deep within me, and I did not hold back.

  This deep, long, soulful kiss high above the city was the most romantic moment I had ever experienced. He placed his hand affectionately against my cheek, and I rubbed against it like a cat. I looked up at him. There was warmth in his eyes.

  “You see,“ he said, sounding a little breathless. “How could that be anything but the kiss of the beloved?”

  As much as I surrendered to the kiss and the urges it stirred within, second thoughts knocked on my brain. This was happening in the middle of a work event. I was neglecting my duties by kissing the client. My boss was going to kill me for this. Listing the multitude of professional consequences in my mind brought me back to the reality: this was all happening too fast.

  “That was a good kiss—a really, really good kiss—I’ll admit.” My mouth tingled where his lips had been. “But still, I don’t really know you.”

  “If I am right, if we are connected by a string of fate, then you already know me in your soul,” he said, a smile lighting up his face and making his eyes sparkle in the moonlight. “And my job is now to help you remember.”

  “Do you realize how weird that sounds?” Weirder yet was that a part of me believed he was sincere. “And, honestly, this is a more than a little crazy.”

  “You know what they say, my love, fake it until you make it. We have no time to waste.”

  Chapter Five

  Clearly, Nicolai was convinced of our destiny, but it seemed he was willing to let me sign on for a trial run. The more I stood there with him, the more it seemed to make sense to at least explore the possibilities. All the kissing must have altered my brain chemicals to make me more open-minded.

  “Okay, why don’t we agree to disagree on the destiny thing but spend some time getting to know each other?” I suggested, getting my bearings again and standing up straighter.

  “There isn’t a lot of time for that.” He ran a finger down my cheek.

  �
�You can’t possibly think I’m going to just drop everything and jump into something with you, like, this minute.”

  “Yes, I do,” he said, reaching for an errant hair and twisting it in his fingers. “I need you to give me six consecutive dates.”

  “I would be crazy myself if I didn’t at least wonder if you had some undiagnosed mental illness,” I asserted. “Or maybe you’re a con artist.”

  “New York women are so suspicious,” he said with a shake of his head. “Do you honestly think I could make this up? Believe me, I realize how unusual this is. But fated romance often is. Haven’t you heard all the stories of people meeting their ‘soul mates’ under highly unusual or synchronistic circumstances?”

  Who is crazier, me or him? “I thought love was meant to happen more naturally—a slow, delicious falling in love with a lot of dancing, kissing, and laughing,” I said. “Doesn’t love need to warm up and simmer before it boils?”

  “I can give you that and more.” His fingers caressed my face as his thumb stroked my ear. “All of it.”

  Our moment was interrupted by a new group of guests straggling out to the patio to enjoy the evening air. The sound of ice cubes clinking against glasses and laughter nearby put me on high alert. Glancing at my watch, I knew Sheila would be furious if I didn’t return to my post.

  “I have to get back to work.” I grabbed a bar napkin from a nearby table and tried to remove the smeared lipstick from my face. I handed one to him as well. He just held it.

  “Yes, of course, return to your duties. I will not interfere. But may I see you again?”

  “We’ll set up a date.” I started to make my way back into the venue.

  “I will take you home tonight.” He was close behind me.

  “You are not taking me home,” I said, over my shoulder. “Don’t you think that is a little fast?”

  “I am taking you home, seeing you to your door, and protecting what’s mine.”

  “Wait a minute.” I halted and faced him, hand on hip. “I’m not actually yours. This has not been completely agreed upon, proven or established.”

  “Nor has it been disproven.” He smiled, playfully. “Or unequivocally disagreed too.”

  “Even if there is this meant-to-be thing between us, I am still my own person.” My moxie was coming back. “I don’t belong to you. Haven’t you gotten the memo in Transylvania? The whole concept is very old-fashioned.”

  “Fine,” he said roguishly, a mischievous look in his eye. He sounded like he was making a fun business deal. “Let’s agree to disagree about the term ‘mine,’ but agree to belong to each other for the next six days. You retain the right to ditch me at any point, and the right to refuse the option to consummate on the full moon. If you decline that option, it means you don’t care for me, so the ‘mine’ part will be irrelevant, anyway. Let’s see if you can go along with it for six days. Agreed?”

  “I’ll get back to you on that.” I could play at business too. And I wanted to give some thought to the whole idea, and what I wanted out of this “deal.” Should I charge him for my time, the way we do at the firm? Should I get him to buy my father’s half of the business back for me? Maybe a cool mil in a Swiss bank account? No, I had no interest in being a whore. The only way I could spend another minute with him was because I liked him. So I had to decide how much I liked him and how much I just wanted to jump his bones. I was feeling a little of both.

  “Okay, how about you consider one day at a time?” he urged. At least he was negotiating rather than trying to drag me back to his cave like a Neanderthal. “For now, pretend, for this night, you are mine. And I am yours. Let’s see where it goes.”

  I was impressed with his temporary solution. His words made me tingle all over, in a good way. Since most of my relationships never made it past a few days, anyway, his revised proposal seemed reasonable. I figured he would lose interest the minute I showed real interest, anyway.

  “Okay, one night,” I said, “and no sex.” I couldn’t believe I brought up the S word again and how loudly I emphasized the word no. “You have to stop interfering with my job and let me get back to work.”

  “Done.” He moved closer to me. “Except one more thing.”

  With that, he bent down and moved one large hand to the side of my head, into my hair, to gently hold me. His lips found mine and he kissed his way down my cheek and chin, finally finding my neck. He caressed my neck sweetly, and sensually licked the skin, sending an erotic charge through me. I melted into his arms. Before I even realized what he was doing, he found a sensitive spot on my neck and began sucking. Hard. Pleasure released into my body and hurried through my system, making me desire him even more. He held his mouth in place for a long time and then pulled away with a look of satisfaction, turning my cheek so he could look at my neck.

  “There,” he teased. “Mine. For tonight, anyway.”

  “Did you give me a hickey?” I snapped, reaching to where his mouth had been. “Vampire! That is going to last a lot longer than one night.”

  He gave me a sly look. “Ms. Monroe, you don’t really believe in vampires, do you?”

  “Not any more than I believe in destiny.” Maybe I wasn’t really sure what I believed at the moment with hickey-induced endorphins flooding my brain.

  “I’ve left my love bite so you’d remember the feelings stirred tonight, even if you aren’t ready to accept that this is more than a sexual connection we share.” He appeared to be quite pleased with himself.

  He was right. I had a hard time believing this was anything more than a sexual attraction, and I still thought he was off the rails with all his talk about fate. But I had to admit, it took a person who was self-assured enough to slice through my resistance to letting men get close and clever enough to keep my interest aroused.

  I was beginning to suspect Nicolai Petre somehow understood this.

  Chapter Six

  I’m not quite sure how I got to the end of the evening. The music helped. I’d hired a talented piano player and cabaret singer, and they filled the place with classic romantic tunes. It calmed me and opened my heart, the way music does.

  Fortunately, I’d already interacted with all the major media guests because after our second encounter on the terrace, Nicolai occupied my mind. My senses vibrated with a heightened awareness of his presence as he circulated through the room, shaking hands and talking to business associates. I noticed the way women looked at him with hunger and desire. Why was I the one he pursued?

  Several times I felt his eyes on me. His look had changed from intense eye fucking to a sensual, knowing glance. We had been intimate—in our discussion and kissing—and I found myself waiting for the moments when it would come again. His talk about his grandmother’s dream was weirdly compelling. Was he really trying to secure my eternal love? Or was he looking for a girl like the one in his grandmother’s dream to bring to her sick bed?

  I looked up the word Ves’tacha on my phone. I tried to spell it five different ways before Google finally delivered the description. It did mean “beloved” apparently in Romani “Gypsy” language. Gypsy language? My head filled with images of a caravan of fortune-tellers in my future. Where did that cultural connection come from? That’s when Sheila waltzed over to the press table. Fuck. I’d caught a view of my newly acquired hickey when I passed a mirror moments earlier. Nicolai had marked me well, and it was in a place where everyone else could see it, too. I quickly moved my hand up to my neck and pulled my hair in front of it.

  “What did Nicolai want,” she demanded, hand on her hip while stomping her foot impatiently. “You were with him for a long time.”

  “He had some questions about how I am pitching the product to media and who had signed up for loaners.” I was a bad liar and hoped it didn’t show.

  “In the future, I will be giving him the details on the account. You can write out a daily status report and I will send it to him.”

  “Fine.”

  “I don’t appreciat
e you posturing yourself with him tonight. I was clear about you having nothing to do with him.”

  “Sheila, you waltzed him over to me. What was I supposed to do?”

  “Lie. Just say, ‘I’m sorry, Mr. Petre, but I can’t leave. Sheila will share the details with you tomorrow.’ You stuck me out here doing your job.”

  She was being completely ridiculous. However, she’d snapped me back into the reality about the precariousness of my job—at the hands of my crazy bitch boss—and I began to remember how crazy Nicolai’s ideas were too. I sent an urgent alert to my brain: get some space and get a hold of your sanity.

  “My apologies,” I said to keep the peace. She huffed away.

  Thankfully, she left soon after. And with a little distance from Nicolai, too, I decided not to let him take me home. Oh, there was a part of me that wanted him to, but I feared the consequences. What if he was as crazy as Sheila, or what if I started believing him again? What if my boss caught wind I was fooling around with a client? I could not think of one scenario in which this would turn out well for me.

  But when the party wrapped up, he headed over with a big beautiful smile aimed right at me. I had to fight my feelings, the ones that told me I liked having him near. Everyone from my office had left, but I still felt the need to keep my distance. Before I had a chance to open my mouth, he stepped in front of me.

  “Have a dance with me, Ms. Monroe.” He extended his hand and walked me onto the dance floor as the pianist started playing “The Nearness of You.” I looked around and realized we were the only ones left. This song was for us only. He must have arranged this final performance.

  Even though my heels gave me five inches, he was much taller. He tucked my head under his chin and his breath warmed the top of my hair. When he wrapped his arms around my petite frame and pulled me near, I forgot about reality. I could focus only on the way his body melded into mine. I had never listened to the words of this song before, and suddenly the singer’s voice blended into the beautiful instrumentals. The sound was magical. And the magnetic pull was still there as I danced in his arms. It just seemed softer and sweeter. For the first time all night it was not hidden as we danced out in the open. When the song came to an end, he stayed in the middle of the dance floor, holding me close.