Enchanting

by Sarah Curtis

Her progress was suddenly halted by a wall of tux stepping into her path and if she hadn't been walking slowly and carefully, she would have crashed face first into it.

  "Princesa." She heard the deep rumble before looking up, but she'd known it was Max even before he spoke. His unique, crisp scent giving him away.

  She took a small step back, tilting her head to meet his eyes. "Max." God, was that her voice so low and breathy?

  His eyes slowly tracked the length of her, pausing at the sparkling tips of her toes peeking from the hem of her gown. His eyes found hers again before he said, "You look ravishing."

  She couldn't contain the giggle that erupted, and Max's lips twitched in response. "I'm not sure why you're laughing, but I love the sound."

  Smile still gracing her lips, she said, "I'm sorry, I'm not sure why I found the word ravishing so funny. Like something out of a historical romance novel or something."

  His arm gestured to her body then extended to encompass the room, "Seems like the right setting."

  Giving him a slight nod, she agreed, "You're right. It's the perfect setting."

  Taking her hand, he bowed low over it. "Will you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

  Steph looked around the crowded ballroom. Many were mingling, but not a soul was dancing. She danced okay in a pinch, surrounded by a large group, but alone, all eyes on her, no way, she'd embarrass herself. She gave him a tight smile. "I'm not a very good dancer, I'm afraid."

  "Don't worry, Princesa, I'll take care of you. All you need is to follow my lead."

  Why did it sound as if he meant for more than just dancing?

  He led her to the middle of the room and held her in his strong arms leading her through a dance she didn't know the name of. What she did know, was there in Max's warm embrace, she didn't care if she looked the fool. She was willing to look foolish if the price was his strong arms wrapped tightly around her, twirling her about the room.

  Looking up into his handsome face, she had to remind herself it was just for this night, just for a few hours. There was no happily ever after to her story. His fingers skimmed down her back, circling her waist as he led her through a series of spins that left her breathless and laughing. The grin on Max's face telling her he was having a good a time, too. All eyes on her, she really felt like a fairy-tale princess at a ball, dancing with the prince from her make-believe kingdom.

  Too soon, the song ended but not Max's attention. Extending the crook of his arm, which she happily latched onto, he led her to a passing waiter, taking two flutes of champagne off his tray before passing one to her.

  "A toast," he said, raising his glass. "To the most beautiful woman here, and the man lucky enough to be by her side."

  Steph felt heat hit her cheeks. God, how long had it been since anyone made her blush? "I want to thank you for the gown and Alice. You made me feel pretty and made this night special. I'll never forget it."

  "I could make every night special, if you'd let me."

  Staring into his intense gaze, she could almost believe that. Found herself, for the first time in a very long time, wanting to believe it. But how long would such dedication last? A month? Two months? A year? She needed to stop any fanciful thoughts he may be having. "As much as I appreciate all you've done, I don't want you getting the wrong idea. I told you once, I don't do relationships, and I meant it. This one night is all I'll give you."

  He gave her a smirk she couldn't quite decipher and said, "Well then, I guess I better enjoy this night for all it's worth."

  Clicking her glass of champagne to his, she agreed, "Me too."

  Chapter Five

  So caught up in the fairy tale—the dancing, the champagne, Max—she hadn't realized how quickly time had passed. And it wasn't until Max pulled her into his arms and she heard people chanting the countdown she realized it was almost midnight, and she would be late for work.

  Mesmerized, she watched in slow motion as Max's lips descended. Anxiety had her heart racing, knowing she'd waited all night for his kiss but also knowing she needed to leave and if he kissed her, she had a feeling she would never want him to stop.

  Reluctantly, she ripped herself from his embrace and hurriedly said, "I'm so sorry, but I need to go," before spinning on her heel and racing from the ballroom.

  Flying down the stairs, her toe caught on the hem of her dress and if she hadn't been holding onto the banister, she surely would've taken a header down the stairs more than likely breaking her neck. As it was, she felt her shoe slip off her foot, but with the momentum behind her, she didn't dare try to stop to retrieve it.

  She heard shouts of "Happy New Year" from the room above mingled with hoots and hollers. Just as her foot hit the last step, the roar of her name over the loud cheering from the crowd in the ballroom had her step faltering, causing her to trip, yet again, on the hem of her dress. She wasn't able to save herself this time, but luckily the floor was close, and she landed harmlessly on her hands and knees.

  She looked over her shoulder and saw Max rushing down the stairs, reaching her in a matter of seconds. "Are you okay?"

  He helped her to her feet then ran his fingers over her cheek to her chin lightly tipping it to look into her eyes. "I'm fine. My puffy train padded my fall."

  He took one of her hands, turning it to inspect her palm. "These didn't have a cushion to land on."

  His thumb brushed along the slightly reddened skin, causing goose bumps to ignite up her arms. "I'm fine," she repeated, tugging her hand from his and taking a small step back. "Thank you for your help and for tonight, but I really have to go. I'm already late for work and still need to stop at home to change."

  "Lift your skirt."

  "Wh...what?"

  He held up her missing shoe. "Lift up your skirt, Princesa, and give me your foot."

  He got down on one knee, waiting for her to comply. Oh, my God. This was not happening. How could this be happening? The sheer incredibility of the events that had taken place—her fairy godmother, attending a ball, rushing out at the stroke of midnight, her losing her shoe—were just too much to believe. A giggle slipped past her lips that soon turned into a full belly laugh.

  Max raised a brow, but she noticed his lip twitch which made her laugh all the harder. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, trying to catch her breath.

  Max was smiling now, shaking his head. "Do I even want to know what's so funny?"

  Steph flopped down on the bottom step and buried her face in her lap trying to gain control. "It's...it's...just all so unbelievable."

  "What's unbelievable?"

  She raised her head, throwing up her arms. "Everything. This whole night. It's like a page right out of Cinderella right down to losing my shoe." She started giggling again, but the laughter soon died on her lips at the look Max was giving her. "What?"

  His jaw tensed, and his eyes heated as he leaned forward, his hands trailing up her thighs to wrap low around her back. "Say you'll go out with me on your next night off."

  Steph licked her lips, his gaze feeling as if it were burning into her very soul. She knew if she said yes, there'd be no going back. "Can't we just fuck instead?"

  He chuckled, disengaging a hand from her back and tweaking her nose. "No. You have to have dinner before you're allowed dessert." He leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning against the sensitive skin of her cheek. "Now, say you'll go out with me on your next night off."

  He moved his head closer and her lips brushed against the stubble on his jaw. She had the urge to flick her tongue out to test if he tasted as delicious as he smelled. "Okay," she whispered and hoped she hadn't just made a huge mistake.

  He leaned away, and
she missed his heat. "Come, give me your foot, and let's get you to work."

  She hiked up her skirt, and he cradled her foot, carefully slipping on her shoe. She watched his actions wondering if he really was the prince he claimed to be or a wolf in prince's clothing.

  Steph had just stepped through her door after work Monday morning when her phone started to ring, vibrating her ass. She sighed not wanting to answer it. She was tired from not getting enough sleep the day before, having to get up early to get ready for Alexis's party and from running ragged all night, catering to the busy holiday crowd.

  Dad flashed across her screen and no matter how tired she was, she happily took the call, excited to hear how his vacation had gone. "Hey, Dad," she said, kicking her shoes off in the entry before making her way to the kitchen for a bottle of water.

  "Hi, pumpkin. How's my baby girl?"

  Steph smiled. He sounded happy. A good sign he had fun on his trip. "I'm fine. Tired. I'm just getting home from work."

  "I won't keep you long then. I wanted to know if you can come over tomorrow for dinner."

  "I have a date."

  "So bring him along."

  "It's a first date, Dad." She pulled a water from the fridge and holding the phone between her cheek and shoulder, cracked open the lid.

  "I really want you to come. There's someone I want you to meet."

  Something in his tone drew her attention. "What's going on?"

  "I didn't want to tell you this over the phone, but I've met someone."

  "That's great, Dad."

  "We got married."

  "What?" Her phone started to slip. She quickly set the bottle down on the counter and rescued it from falling to the floor. She heard her dad talking but didn't catch his words until she brought the phone back to her ear.

  "...and I know it seems sudden, kiddo, but I'm not getting any younger, and sometimes you just need to take a chance and grab love with both hands."

  Love? He'd only been gone two weeks. She'd known he'd been lonely since her mom died, and Steph was happy he'd found someone to spend time with. But marriage? The news was just mind boggling.

  She hung up promising to be there along with her new "beau"—Dad's words, not hers. Now to call Max and let him know she was putting a wrench in their evening festivities. She scrolled to her contacts, found his name, and hit dial.

  It only rang once before he picked up. "Princesa."

  "Hey, Max. Slight change of plans for tomorrow night."

  "The only change I'm willing to accept is a change in venue. But I must tell you, I made reservations at Sepitor's, so you may want to rethink your answer."

  Darn. She'd heard great things about that place. She'd never been, along with the sensational food came sensational prices she couldn't afford. "Funny you should say that. A change of location is exactly why I'm calling. Although I'd like to take a rain check for Sepitor's, if that's all right."

  "If that means you're agreeing to a second date with me, then by all means. Now tell me, where are we going."

  She explained the situation, and he was silent a moment before he replied, "I'd be honored to meet your father."

  "Whoa, don't get any weird ideas, buddy. This is an emergency circumstance and not your normal meet and greet with the pops."

  She heard a deep chuckle over the line. "Buddy? What, pray tell, is the normal father-meeting procedure?"

  "You know, the go out on several dates, become a thing, meet the folks, that kind of normal."

  "So we're not a thing then?"

  That made her laugh. "We are far, far, from being a thing."

  "Shame. There're things I'd like to do to you...if we were a thing."

  Her mind wandered. Thoughts of what Max looked like without clothes and the things he wanted to do to her occupied way too much space in her brain to keep up with the current conversation.

  "Princesa?"

  Pulled back to the present, she cleared her throat. "Yes, well, guess I'll see you tomorrow. About sixish?"

  "I'll be there. Sweet dreams, mi amor."

  She was pretty sure they would be now.

  "You look beautiful."

  She looked down at herself as if forgetting the red, off-the-shoulder, oversized sweater with black leggings—a new pair minus the fuzz balls and spandex threads—and black Ugg boots she'd thrown on not ten minutes earlier.

  It was six sharp, and Steph had just opened her door to Max, looking pretty magnificent himself in a pair of dark jeans and black sweater.

  "Thank you." She smiled then indicated the roses he held. "Are those for me?"

  He gave her a sheepish grin. "You make me forget myself." He held out the bouquet. "I know red is terribly cliché, but they reminded me of you. Classic elegance, but with thorns that will prick if you don't handle them carefully."

  Observant ass, but she thought it with a smile as she took the roses he held out to her. She left the door standing open as she went to the kitchen to put the flowers in water. "Can I get you anything before we go?" she called as she opened an upper cabinet, reaching on her tiptoes for her one and only vase tucked away on a top shelf.

  She felt heat at her back, and Max's hand came into view, grabbing the vase while his other arm snaked around her waist. His lips found her ear. "Not if you still want us to go to your dad's." His hand found the hem of her sweater and the heat of his palm meeting the warmth of her stomach sent a chill up her spine. Seemed scientifically impossible for two warms to make a cold but then biology had never been her best subject, so who knew?

  What she did know was the hand now trailing up her stomach leaving goose bumps in its wake was making her knees turn to jelly, creating the necessity to grip the edge of the counter to keep herself in an upright position. She held herself completely still not even daring to take a deep breath for fear his hand would suddenly vanish instead of continuing its trail into ta-ta territory.

  And there it was, his thumb lightly tracing the underside of her breast. Back and forth slowly inching its way to her nipple. She was pretty sure she stopped breathing, her nipples tightening in anticipation.

  His warm breath grazed across her cheek as his teeth captured her lobe, sucking the sensitive bit of flesh into his mouth just as his thumb reached her nipple rubbing against the hardened peak through the lace of her bra. Her lips parted, forced to take in some much needed air before releasing a low moan.

  "Mmm, I like that sound. Let's see if I can make you do it again," he said, nibbling kisses up and down the side of her neck as his thumb kept a steady rhythm, sweeping her nipple.

  His other hand came into play, going south under the waistband of her leggings, encountering bare flesh. "No underwear?" he asked a note of surprise in his voice.

  She felt her cheeks heat not sure what it was about him that made her blush. "Lycra and panty lines don't really mix." His finger found her clit and her head fell back colliding with his shoulder. "Oh, God."

  Max chuckled. "I like the sound of that even better."

  His tongue replaced his lips, twirling circles on her neck as his finger circled her nub, his other hand plucking at her nipple. It was all too much, and Steph found herself coming in an embarrassingly short time, her fingers digging into the counter, hopefully not leaving permanent indents.

  "Not sure I can get through a whole dinner knowing you're not wearing underwear."

  Steph jerked to attention. "Oh, God, my dad! We're going to be late." She picked up the vase, putting it under the faucet and turned on the water. "Come on, hurry up," she said, bouncing on her toes, willing the water to fill the vase faster.

  "
Relax, we won't be that late."

  "You don't understand, my dad's a stickler for punctuality. I'm already nervous about meeting his new w..wife." Jeez, that was hard to get out. "I don't want to start the evening off on the wrong foot." She turned off the faucet and shoved the roses in the vase.

  Max gripped her shoulders, spinning her around then cupped her face with his hands. "Relax." His lips captured hers. Funny, she thought, he'd just made her come, but this was their first actual kiss. And soon, so swept away, she wasn't thinking at all.

  Chapter Six

  "I'm so sorry we're late," Steph said, stepping over the threshold of the home she'd grown up in.

  She was immediately pulled into her dad's warm embrace. "Missed you, pumpkin."

  She gave him a tight squeeze. "Missed you, too."

  She took a step back beside Max. "Dad, this is Max. Max, my dad, Steve Willis."

  "Nice to meet you, Mr. Willis." Max held out a hand.

  "Please, call me Steve." They clasped hands then her dad said, "Come, I want you to meet Linda."

  He led them to the kitchen where Linda was stirring something on the stove. As soon as she spied them, she put down her spoon and wiped her hands on a nearby towel.

  "It's so nice to finally meet you," Linda said after the introductions were made. "Your father can't stop talking about you. I feel like I practically know you already," she said with a nervous giggle.

  It was then Steph realized Linda was just as uneasy at meeting her as she was. Steph wasn't sure what to say. She hadn't learned about Linda until yesterday.

  She was saved from commenting by the doorbell. Linda beamed, "Oh, that must be the girls."

  Girls?

  Steph and Max trailed behind Linda and her dad to the front door. Max leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I think you might be getting more than you bargained for."

  Way more it would seem from the excited screeching that enveloped the three women when Linda opened the front door. Linda, Steph would soon learn, had two daughters, Jessica and Brittany, and both were over the moon—at least it seemed so by the amount of enthusiastic chatter going on—their mother had gotten married.