He heard her breath hitch when she realized she was going to be kissed and felt a satisfaction all the way to the tip of his uncircumcised cock. His confidence that she was going to be his was growing to match the feelings of optimism that had sprung into full bloom just moments before. Baka hadn't felt the pleasures of optimism for over six hundred years; not since the last time he held this woman in his arms. Her body was different, but by all that was holy, she tasted the same, felt the same, and, moreover, made him feel like he was six hundred years younger. The physical differences didn't matter. If anything, she was prettier and curvier than she had been as Helena, but it wouldn't have mattered to him if that wasn't true. She was completion in any form.
Pulling back from the kiss was sweet torture. His eyes confirmed what his emotions proclaimed. Heaven's eyes were closed and she was experiencing an ecstasy on the verge of swooning. When she opened her eyes, he barely had a chance to register the significance of liquid pooling there before one large tear escaped and ran down her cheek.
With a furrowed brow, he caught that tear on his forefinger. "What's this?"
She shook her head as more tears wet her cheeks leaving him feeling both helpless and dumfounded.
"Happy tears."
"Happy tears." He repeated the phrase while examining it for some sign of sense. "I don't like to see you cry."
"I don't like to see you cry either."
"How do you feel about children?" He'd seen her smile before, at other people, from across a room, but this was the first time he'd been the recipient. The air around her seemed to shimmer with a bright light, making it feel like the gates of heaven had just opened and welcomed him in. And in his mind he felt more than heard the most beautiful word in creation. Redeemed.
"Don't you think we should get to know each other a little first?" Her tone of voice suggested that she was teasing.
"Get to know each other a little? There's very little about you that I don't know."
Heaven's eyes went wide and she pulled out of his grasp. "You had me investigated?"
Baka's face transformed into a scowl.
"Investigated? No!" He sounded incredulous.
"Heaven. The past half year every day has been spent with you. Much of the time that I should have been working, I was lost in studying you. I know things about you that no investigation would ever reveal.
"I know you have a scholar's ability to concentrate on a task at hand. When you bring your focus to bear on a project, you can make everything else disappear and get lost in the work. You type very fast. You like to use pencils instead of pens and you won't tolerate a tip that isn't sharp.
"I know you like cranberry apricot scones and coffee for breakfast. I know you take an extra helping on the days when they serve chicken crepes in cream sauce. You make a trip to the ladies' room in the morning between ten and ten thirty and again in the afternoon between three and four.
"Your eyes look gold when you wear green and amber when you wear red. By the way, you are a siren in red. On days when you wear red, the only thing I get accomplished is controlling my urge to leap at you." That caused her to pull back a little, but it also made her eyes twinkle with interest.
"On sunny days you wear bright colors and look out the window more often than you do on cloudy days.
"When your mother calls you chew your bottom lip and tell her you just have a minute. When your little brother calls, you light up like a Yule tree and skip lunch to keep him on the phone as long as possible.
"You like to eat the cake that covers the fig filling in Fig Newtons, but not the filling, which is kind of cute. You look around to make sure no one is looking and then lick your fingers which... I don't even want to tell you what sort of torture that is.
"People like to tell you their troubles because they sense you care about them. You're a good listener, kind, and generous.
"You never wear lipstick. You wear lip gloss, which means you always look like you've just been kissed, or want to be, which drives me insane.
"You like to wear scents that have a hint of citrus, usually orange. It arouses to the point of antagonizing.
"You bite your thumbnails when you're nervous or bored and then try to hide your hands so people won't notice.
"Your mouth turns into a sexy little curl and your eyes glitter when you believe you have delivered me an especially cruel taunt.
"When you're having an 'off' day, you wear turtleneck sweaters. When you're feeling cheerful you wear silk blouses and scarves that can be converted to shawls if you get cool enough to make your pretty little nipples stand up at attention." Her cheeks flushed red at that familiarity. "I could go on. I assure you."
"Um. That's plenty, isn't it? Quite brilliant. Actually more than I knew about myself."
He cocked his head. "Are you sounding more Brit than usual?"
She adjusted her cardigan sweater over her breasts and looked like she was feeling awkward, but didn't answer.
"So?" He put his hands around the small of her back and started to edge her closer again, but she didn't budge.
"And what about Elora?"
"Elora?" He wasn't expecting that. Nor was he expecting the epiphany that slapped him with a bolt of enlightenment.
Heaven watched his eyes go out of focus for just a second. Then he laughed, not just a little. He threw his head back and laughed with his whole body, as he had not done since he had been human the first time. The laughter flowed through him like a healing balm. It was a purge. It was a gift.
In the blink of an eye all the puzzle pieces clicked into place for Baka. Instinctively he had always known that Elora was the key to his redemption. He felt it in a deeply intuitive way the first time he laid eyes on her; crossing the Jefferson Unit Hub in chains. But, she wasn't the destination, as he had originally thought. She was the guide, once again proving that the only thing consistent and predictable about the operations of the universe is mysterious ways.
Looking down at Heaven's face he could see she didn't see anything amusing. As she crossed her arms in front of her, he stopped laughing, but the light of life, hope, and laughter didn't leave his eyes. She thought it was such a good look for him. Surprisingly she was thinking that she wanted to be in a position to see that look every day for the rest of her life even if it meant coming to terms with being the 'other' woman.
"It was never Elora. She was just the angel who fell to Earth to point me in the right direction. You're the miracle. My miracle."
Heaven's mouth formed an enchanting "o". Grinning with a promise of naughty nights, Baka promptly used his own mouth to ply that "o" into a shape receptive to his tongue.
He got her to agree to go pack an overnight bag saying they should get away for a couple of days and "get to know each other better".
"You mean get to know each other carnally," she had responded.
"Yes."
She laughed that his answers were so simple and straight forward. "Well, under the general heading of getting to know each other, I've noticed that most people call you Baka. Is that what you want to be called?"
"Elora started calling me that and it just stuck. I don't care. What would you like to call me?"
"Baka doesn't feel right.
"What does?"
"Istvan."
His heart leaped when she said it. Was it his imagination or did he hear a Romanian accent? "I would love it if you would call me Istvan. Especially if no one else does."
She smiled and ducked her head, feeling suddenly shy.
"In two hours, or make it six o'clock, a car will pick you up at the main door."
"Do I need, um, anything special to wear?"
The look he gave her made her temperature surge. "If you wish. I'll be even more pleased if you bring nothing at all."
Heaven practically ran to her room. Once inside she stood looking around wondering what to do first. She didn't own anything that could really be called sexy. She'd never prepared for a... a what? Rendezvous?
Resolving that a shower would be part of the process no matter, she decided to start there and see if the rest came to her. It didn't. The only thing the shower resolved was cleanliness, not to be underestimated, and hairlessness in all the right places. If she did end up frozen in such indecision that she took nothing but toiletries, she would at least be clean and smooth and wearing three drops of orange essential oil guaranteed to drive a vam... a man to distraction.
She stood in front of the steamy bathroom mirror with a towel wrapped around her hair. What now? Red. He said she was a siren in red and that it made him want to leap at her. She wanted to stop the litany at that point and hear more about the leaping. She shouldn't have turned the shower so hot.
What a great piece of intel! Did that mean she should wear something red or shouldn't wear something red? She decided to skip that question and come back to it.
There wasn't one thing in her lingerie drawer that could really even qualify as 'lingerie' in the French sense. The closest thing she had to seduction-worthy under things was a pale pink bra and panties set that were very pretty in a lacy, Victorian lady kind of way.
Is that why the husbands of those Victorian ladies were spending their free time in brothels instead of at home? Am I over-thinking this?
Still, the pale pink looked good on her skin and Baka had lived long enough to appreciate that lace has a place in the bedroom.
Brilliant. It was cold outside so she pulled out her knee high black boots. She closed the bathroom door to see how she was doing so far. Pink lace, black boots, and a terry cloth turban. Hmmm.
Pushing her hanging clothes back and forth was eating up too much time. Choices had to be made. She pulled out a knee length, crimson colored, jersey knit dress that clung to her curves suggestively and belted at the waist. It had a large, shawl collar that was deceptively demure unless she happened to bend over in which case the plunging neckline drooped in glorious revelation. At least she hoped it was glorious.
She pulled out her little train case, and placed her essential toiletries inside with some clean socks.
Clean socks? Some temptress you are.
She cringed when she realized she had nothing to sleep in. She couldn't take a flannel night shirt with penguins on it and her pajamas were even worse. Kangaroos.
What would a real temptress do?
She smiled remembering that he said he'd be just as pleased if she brought nothing at all. Well, he should prepare to be very pleased. At least during the night.
For a change of clothes she threw in a pair of jeans with a well placed tear across her thigh that could be interpreted as risqué' by a certain someone. It was the most Avant-garde thing she owned.
If not now, then when?
On top of that she put in a dark red v necked sweater, decided that more red was overkill and took it out, went through her other options, and, in the end, put it back in on top of the jeans.
Note to self. Buy some black lingerie.
At five minutes before six she said hello to James, the evening doorman, and told him a car was coming for her. They exchanged pleasantries while she waited.
What kind of temptress arrives early?
As she berated herself for behaving like someone grossly inexperienced, which she was, one of The Order's sleek black jaguars pulled up. The doorman stepped to the car's lowered window and nodded.
"Ms. McBride? This is your ride." He took the train case from her and gestured toward the car.
She smiled at the rhyme and was grateful that James had taken some of the edge off her anxiety.
"Thank you."
He admonished her to pull the hem of her coat in after her then shut the door firmly.
"Good evening, Ms. McBride."
"Hello." She didn't know the driver. "Are we going far?"
He snickered. "No, madam. Not far."
In less than two minutes they pulled up in front of The Witchery. The driver jumped out and ran around to open her door. When she got out she turned to retrieve the case, but he said, "Please. Allow me."
She followed a few steps into the lobby of the famous establishment wishing she was wearing more expensive clothes. He handed the case off to a gentleman who appeared to be waiting for her. "Ms. McBride. Please. This way."
They climbed a red carpeted stairway framed by dark stained, carved wood banisters then walked to the end of a short hall. When he reached the double doors he knocked twice and then entered.
He set the train case down on a chest near the door. "Should you require anything, anything at all, please do not hesitate to let any one of the staff know. We want you to enjoy your time here."
She fumbled to open her purse and get a tip. Seeing what she was doing the evening man said, "Please, madam. I assure you that everything has been anticipated and taken care of. Enjoy the suite. Dinner will be arriving shortly."
At that Heaven's gaze went to the table set for two in front of the fireplace wherein a small cheery fire had been laid and lit. The white linens were crisp and without blemish. No streak or spot would be found on the stemware, but the focal point of the supremely inviting scene was the vase of wildflowers that had been in Baka's room; the flowers she had gone to great lengths to procure.
The night man cleared his throat which shook Heaven out of her trance.
"May I take your coat?"
She looked down at herself like she wasn't sure what she was wearing.
"Yes. Thank you."
After she unbuttoned her coat he eased it off her shoulders, opened a small closet by the double doors, and hung the coat with a flourish that was... entertaining, but not intended to be. That done, he closed the closet door.
"Will that be all, madam?"
"Indeed, yes. Everything is lovely. Before you go please tell me, did Mr. Baka leave any word for me?"
A hint of a smile crossed the manager's mouth. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "He is presently in the kitchen supervising the staff, assuring that nothing is overlooked. If you will allow me to say so, the gentleman seems determined to insure that this is a memorable evening." He hesitated then gestured toward the wine. "May I pour you a glass before I go?"
She shook her head and offered a polite smile of dismissal. The talk about memorable evenings created innuendo hanging in the air, whether intended or not, that brought her anxiety back to center stage.
The evening man gave a nod of the head and left quietly. Alone in the suite, there was nothing to do but explore.
The bedroom was partially visible through another set of double doors. She walked toward it like it was magnetized then stood at the threshold as if entering was a commitment she wasn't yet ready to make. The bedroom might as well have had a velvet cordon blocking entrance like an historic homes exhibit. It was so sumptuous and gloriously, even ridiculously, gothic that it looked like an opera come to life.
Seductions "R" Us.
Shades of red, purple, and plum all seemed to shout sex, sex, sex.
When she finally pushed herself beyond the bedroom's doorway, she ran fingertips over the contrasting and complimentary textures covering the bed: pillows, comforter, coverlet, shams in velvet, satin, and silk.
The bathroom was every bit as wickedly inviting. A claw foot tub for two was the focal point, sitting in the middle of a room that was black and scarlet with gold rococo accents, art deco taken to the extreme of opulence. A series of mirrored panels covered the walls on either side of the tub, each one separated by a gold rococo column.
The ceiling was both vaulted and curved like flower petals, painted in a highly stylized abstract embellishing the art deco theme. Incredibly thick, scarlet bath sheets were draped over the tub in a presentation designed to look casual and put guests at ease. It was just another indication that no detail had escaped the attention of the hotel staff.
Heaven stood in the bathroom wondering why Istvan Baka would go to so much trouble when he knew that she was a 'sure thing'. The only possible answer to that quest
ion was that he wanted to please her and make their first time together special. Or, as the manager had said, 'memorable'. And that charmed her more than the most romantic setting in the world.
She heard someone come into the other room, but no one called out. She remained standing in the bathroom next to the claw foot tub as Baka came up behind her. She lifted her eyes to her reflection in the mirror and watched him put his arms around her. Never taking his eyes from her reflection, his lips brushed the side of her neck with a smile that spoke volumes about his intentions.
"You look like heaven."
She smiled in spite of herself. "Funny. Thank you. I think."
Looking at them reflected, his figure a few inches taller, he leaned down and lightly kissed her neck. He heard her breath hitch. "Hmmm. Have I told you that you're irresistible in red?"
"No," she lied.
"Well, you are. So. What do you think?"
"About you kissing my neck or about the uber sexy suite?"
"Both." He smiled like a spider with an especially juicy fly caught in its web.
"I like. Both. A lot."
One of his hands, wrapped around her, moved slightly so that he could tease the underside of a breast with a thumb making tiny lazy circles as he continued to kiss her nape and the sides of her neck. He stopped suddenly and looked at her in the mirror.
"Hungry?"
No. Nervous. And eager.
"The table by the fire is... lovely, inviting. Bringing the flowers over was a nice touch."
"Waking up to you and those flowers was, perhaps, the best thing that has ever happened to me. Flowers like that don't deserve to be left behind."
"Will there be food to go with the table?"
"You are hungry."
She shook herself a little. "You know I don't think I've eaten since the whole muddle began. I was late for work so I grabbed something to eat at my desk; a muffin maybe. When you never came in, I was worried and I don't remember eating again."
He blinked. "You mean you haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday? And that was a muffin? Maybe?"
As if on cue her stomach growled loudly. She blushed.
A Summoner's Tale - The Vampire's Confessor (Black Swan 3) Page 30