Authors: Victoria Danann
Tags: #romance paranormal contemporary, #vampires, #romance adventure, #scifi romance, #blackswanknights, #romance fantasy series, #romance contemporay, #romance bestseller kindle, #romancefantasyscifi romance, #fantasy romance, #romance fantasy paranormal urban fantasy, #romancefantasy, #romance serials, #romance new adult, #paranormal romance, #romance fantasy paranormal
The Whister dropped them at The Order’s 63
rd
Street location, which was just four blocks from the newly reopened Café Des Artistes, close enough to walk. When they arrived, Rev leaned over and said something inaudible to the maître d, who responded with a smile and a nod. They were seated in a back corner booth. It was the sort of place where wait staff knew not to interrupt a sentence in progress, to be present when needed without hovering when unwanted. Quiet and elegant for fine dining with anyone. Romantic and seductive when with the right person.
Dinner was one of those two and a half hour experiences that would be remembered when all the ordinary nights of ordinary meals were long forgotten.
Farnsworth had spent the past twenty-four hours vacillating between cancelling and not. On the one hand she thought there couldn’t be much harm in going, unless you considered that a date gone wrong with your Unit Sovereign could be big trouble. On the other hand, she felt guilty about being attracted to the young knight recently turned administrator. She thought it was much too soon after Sol’s death to be even mildly interested in someone, particularly not someone so junior.
Mixed into that muddle was a constant second guessing of her attractiveness. A little voice of ugly judgment kept prodding, asking, “Why would such a catch be interested in an old, well, at least older woman?”
The fact was that Rev was easy to be with. His company required no effort. It simply felt right. After dessert and coffee, he said, “I’m stuffed. How about you?”
“Overstuffed.”
“What do you think about walking around for a little while? Did you bring some other shoes? Not that those aren’t nice. Because they are. “
She chuckled. “All is well. My shoes take no offense. And, yes, I did bring other footwear. Per instructions. Meet you at coat check.”
“Deal.”
Stepping out onto the sidewalk, the crisp air felt good. As they started away she was still buttoning up and pulling on her gloves. While so engaged, Rev waved a cab over and opened the door for her.
When they were inside, he said, “Bergdorf Goodman,” to the taxi driver.
Farnsworth smiled and looked intrigued. “We’re going shopping?”
He was instantly aware that they’d never been so close together. Not since he’d been reborn. The close quarters of the taxi’s back seat seemed awash with a potent intimacy that was theirs and theirs alone. Even if there was a Somalian cab driver singing along to Frank Sinatra music. Off key.
Rev’s face was so close to hers when he turned to answer the question that he forgot the question. In fact he forgot everything except how beautiful she was in red and that included the red lipstick that he couldn’t seem to look away from.
“Hello?”
He jerked his gaze up to her eyes. “What?”
She laughed. “I said, ‘Are we going shopping?’”
“No. It’s the starting point on our route.”
“We have a route?”
“Yes, ma’am, we do. And we are there.” The cab stopped at the curb.
While Rev paid the driver, Farnsworth strolled a few feet toward the display windows to see what high end buyers thought about clothes for summer. Not that she valued their opinion. For the most part she thought they were certifiably insane. But there weren’t many places that decked out windows anymore. So why not experience the show?
Rev came up behind her. “You like that?”
“Good gods no. Wouldn’t be caught dead in it.”
One of the pedestrians on the sidewalk overheard her and sniggered. Seemed she wasn’t the only one who questioned the good sense of people who would spend actual money on those clothes.
She leaned over to Rev and said in a low conspiratorial tone, “And especially not at fifteen hundred dollars for a little short sleeved knit sweater. For that it had better have actual gold thread in the weave.”
They started strolling. “So what do you spend your money on?”
“My millions?”
He laughed. “Given what I already know about you I wouldn’t be that surprised if you hadn’t been mastering stock market manipulation in your spare time between one and two in the morning.”
She gave him an odd look.
“What?”
She shook her head a little. “Nothing. It’s just… That was a really nice compliment.”
He stopped and turned toward her with a smile. “Finally. A compliment you’re happy to accept. So do I get a thank you or a kiss? Or a kiss
and
a thank you?”
“Thank you, Sovereign Farthing.”
Before she knew what was coming next, he’d taken her face between his hands and placed a slow, sincere and deliciously promising kiss on her mouth.
“Thank you, Operations Manager Farnsworth. Can I call you Susan yet?”
She was so stunned by the suddenness of the move and the burn of the kiss that all she could do was concentrate on not reaching up to touch her lips. When she didn’t respond, he took her arm and wrapped it under and over the crook of his so that she’d have to walk close.
“Come on. Let’s go see what there is to see.”
It was out of his mouth before he knew it. He looked at her to see if that would raise an alarm. After all she was the one who had taught him that expression. He reminded himself to be more careful. He couldn’t behave as if he was promenading with the love of his life, who had promised to be his wife. He had to behave as if it was a first date.
After a few feet she seemed to come back to life and began pointing out this thing or that about sights or people. Abruptly she glanced his way with a grin and said, “This is fun. Do you bring all your dates on a walk down Fifth Avenue?”
“As you well know, I’m new in town, but even if I wasn’t, the answer would be no because I don’t go on dates.” At first she laughed, but his expression said he wasn’t kidding. “I asked somebody who has a reputation for being good with girls what sort of thing would be fun and maybe impress you? He gave me this idea.” Something about the fact that he’d wanted to impress her made her stomach do a little jig. “Is it working?”
“Yes. Like I told you. It’s fun!”
“And are you impressed?”
She stopped walking which caused a crowd of pedestrians to part and walk around. “Why do you want to impress me? No. Strike that. Just make it simple. Why me?”
He put his arm around her waist and pulled her to the side next to a building. “Why would you question how special you are? You think there are a lot of women like you?”
“Well. Yes.”
“Well, you’d be very, very wrong then.” He pulled her close and kissed her again, then straightened and looked around. “Come on.”
He pulled her around the corner and started heading for a building that was displaying the telltale awning and flags of an uptown hotel. She kept waiting for the voice of the proper mature woman to make it out of her throat, but she was silent. Silent. Excited and thinking,
Oh my gods. What in the abyss am I doing?
A question sat on the tip of her tongue, “Did you plan this?”, but she didn’t ask it. She knew he hadn’t. She could tell by the way he’d scanned the surroundings. It was a purely spontaneous response to a breathless kiss, the sampling of which, apparently, made him want more.
He wasn’t alone in that. Her body was crazy for the guy and responding to him like a rare Stradivarius violin responds to the touch of a virtuoso.
He had an iron grip on her as they maneuvered the revolving door, like he thought she might bolt if he loosened his grip, but it wasn’t fear that made him hold on tight. It was anticipation. And arousal. He rushed them toward the desk.
“We’d like a room. “
The desk clerk smiled and glanced at Farnsworth. He couldn’t read anything from the bloom in her cheeks because of the chilly breeze that was whipping around Manhattan that night, but the shine in her eyes was a giveaway that he needed to check them in quickly and efficiently. He didn’t ask about luggage, which desk clerks do sometimes just for the fun of it. He didn’t ask if they wanted two beds. He made a point of saying that service of a limited menu and beverages, including wine, was still available, to which Rev replied, “Please send up a nice merlot.”
“Very good, sir.”
Rev took the key and began guiding Farnsworth away from the desk. They rounded the end of the long marble counter and turned left, as directed by the desk clerk. He was trying to appear completely controlled and not scare her by walking too fast, but his body was saying he’d better run. On the ride up to the room Rev was hyperaware that she was gripping the lapels of her coat tightly and holding the edges together as if she was afraid she might be asked to remove outer wear at some point.
His mind understood that she thought they were strangers, but his heart and his body believed they were lovers who’d been separated far too long. The charade was cruel to both of them, but necessary if, according to the Powers That Be - with whom he had a passing acquaintance, he wanted to stay incarnate. And he did want to stay incarnate for so many reasons including the high probability of impending carnality with Susan Farnsworth.
As they walked down the hall toward the room she was looking more and more like she was approaching a firing squad. Rev wasn’t sure about the best course of action, but he knew he was on shaky ground and that he’d better proceed cautiously. He was halfway surprised that she walked in when he opened the door. Based on her body language, he’d anticipated that she might try a sprint for the fire escape.
Once inside, he turned on the lamps and took off his coat while Farnsworth stared at the bed. He walked over to her, gently gripped her forearms that were holding her coat lapels like her life depended on it, and began slowly walking backwards so that she moved with him, almost like a dance. He maneuvered her across the room until the two of them were standing over the sofa, where he urged her to sit.
She looked down at the sofa and complied, but made no move to loosen her hold on the coat. He sat down close to her and waited for her to look at him. She didn’t. She looked everywhere in the room but at him.
“If this was a mistake, I apologize. The last thing, the very last thing, I want is to make you uncomfortable. If you’d like to think of this as simply a quiet place, away from work and all the people who know us, where we can have some wine and get to know each other better? Then that’s exactly what this will be.”
She looked over at him. “Just wine?”
He smiled. “I don’t want to leave you with the impression that it’s my first choice, but showing you a good time is what I want most tonight.” It would have been impossible to not smile at words so thoughtful. So she smiled. “Can I take your coat or would you rather keep it?”
She looked down at where she was holding the coat together like she’d forgotten she was wearing one. When her eyes lifted to him, she laughed in a self-deprecatory way. “I’m being silly. Right?”
“I don’t know. What got you spooked?”
“Spooked? That’s an unfortunate choice of words.”
A small frown formed and he shook his head in confusion. “I don’t…
“You opened the wrong door with an unfortunate word and I made it worse with a bad joke. Terrible joke as a matter of fact.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but there was a knock at the door. “Must be wine.”
While he went to open the door, she removed her coat.
“Good evening, sir. Where would you like the wine?”
Rev gestured toward the table in the corner.
The tray was carried by a young man wearing a handsome mulberry short coat. He nodded at Farnsworth. “Madame.” While opening the wine, he said, “The management instructed room service to include some cheese and a few chocolates.”
“That was very nice of them,” said Rev as he took the vinyl wallet holding the bill and signed for it.
“Thank you, sir. Will there be anything more?”
“We’ll call if we need something else.”
The traveling sommelier nodded at Farnsworth again. “Have a good evening.”
Rev closed the door behind him and locked it. When he turned back to the sofa, Farnsworth wasn’t there. She had gathered up two wine glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other and was headed back toward the sofa.
She poured both glasses and handed one to him as he sat back down. She took a sip and closed her eyes as the taste lingered on her tongue and the slight tinge of burn descended into her system.
“You were saying?” he asked.
“Hmmm?”
“Before. You were saying something about a bad joke.”
“Oh.” She’d been hoping he’d forgotten so they could start fresh on a new topic. She looked away and started studying various objects in the room again.
“Susan. You can tell me. Whatever it is. I want to know.”
She smiled. “I don’t think you do.”
“I do.”
“Not really.” She shook her head.
“If you weren’t so beautiful, I might be tempted to call you exasperating.”