“I will, thank you.”
She left me alone, shutting the door behind her. I walked to the windows and pulled the panel open again, stepping out onto the balcony to admire the view. The sea was definitely roughing up. I’m no sailor but I’ve lived around the water long enough to recognize the signs of a storm. I shivered again, more from excitement than cold this time. There is nothing so romantic as a storm, and I couldn’t wait to share this evening with Thomas.
My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the screen. It was him.
Did you find your present?
We r in the same house, why r u texting me?
Because I don’t dare come see you right now. We won’t make it to dinner.
I swallowed hard.
Okay. Wait, what present?
Check the bed.
I went inside, closing the balcony door behind me, and walked to the bed where I found a box wrapped in black and white damask paper.
For me?
Open it.
I ripped open the paper, lifted the lid and folded back two sheets of lightly scented tissue paper. It was an exquisitely crafted ensemble of French lingerie. Bra, panties, garter belt and stockings all in black, with fine lace and embroidery decorating the delicate sheer fabric. I reached for my phone.
Beautiful.
Just like you. I was hoping you’d wear it tonight.
I will.
Good. Get dressed, dinner is in 20 mins.
I threw the phone back on the bed and ripped off my coat. I found my suitcase in the dressing room just off the bathroom, a bathroom that felt like it was about twice the size of my apartment and with a bathtub so large it looked like I’d have to drain the harbor to fill it. I made a mental note to take a long, leisurely soak in that bad boy later. For now, I had to concentrate on going from road weary to glamorous in a flash.
I put my hair in a bun and took a quick shower to calm my nerves and freshen up, then ran a brush through my hair. Thankfully the steam of the shower had put a little wave into it, so I didn’t need to do much. Next was makeup. I focused on my skin and eyes, forgoing lipstick for just a hint of stain.
When I slipped into the lingerie, I realized how completely pathetic my own collection is. I had long thought I had a pretty fancy array of naughty undergarments. But in comparison to the feather-light honeyed silk that was currently caressing my skin, my own collection was utter trash. I was going to have to go naked for the rest of the weekend now, because no way was I going to be brave enough to wear those potato sacks I call lingerie in front of Thomas after he’d given me this magic.
I pulled on my dress and pumps with just minutes to spare, but almost strained a muscle trying to drag my zipper up my back.
“Why are these things always murder to get up, but super easy to pull down?” I growled at the empty room as I teetered around in circles, fingers snapping for the zipper like a Chihuahua having a hissy fit.
I gave up and walked into the bedroom just as my phone buzzed again.
Dinner is served. ;)
On my way.
As I walked down the hall, heels clicking an ungainly echo on the marble floors, I caught the double meaning in his text. Intended or not, dinner was indeed served. We’d been starving for each other since the moment we met, and tonight, finally, we were both on the menu.
The lights were dimmed throughout the house, and there was music playing softly. Despite the ungodly racket my heels were making on the floors, he hadn’t heard me approach. He was at the windows in the living room when I saw him, engrossed in thought, face turned to the sea, his handsome profile outlined by the glow from the fireplace. He’d dressed down for dinner, his white button up shirt open at the throat, revealing a hint of that sexy, sculpted chest. His shirt sleeves were rolled to the elbows, his tattoos clearly visible, and I could see the muscles bunching underneath the inked bands as his arms flexed. His feet were bare, and even they were sexy. I’d never thought of feet as sexy before but damn if his weren’t. He was so gorgeous my breath hitched and I inhaled sharply, causing him to turn.
“Hey,” I said softly when he saw me.
“Hey,” he echoed, a smile breaking across his face like the waves on the rocks below us, fast and wild. “God, you’re breathtaking,” he said as he walked towards me.
“I feel a little overdressed,” I said, arching an eyebrow at his feet.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “I dislike wearing shoes in the house, sorry.”
“Oh, I’ll take mine off too.”
“Don’t you dare,” he warned, his eyes sliding over my legs. “Those shoes are incredible. Besides, I’ll do that, later.”
I laughed and pulled my hair to the side, turning my back to him. “Zip me up?”