He didn’t want to go back to the coldness of his little house with stuffy Geoff. He wanted to stay here, but that would surely have been an imposition on them both. For no other reason that he was finding it harder and harder not to keep his hands off of Hope.
As he came to a room he had not yet seen, he noticed the French doors were painted with brilliant colors on the windows, making it impossible to peak in. Opening it quietly, he turned and found the light switch on the wall and found himself in awe. Her working room was a place of pure beauty and the large canvases of beautiful Nubian faces pulled him into their beauty.
He stood sipping his wine and staring, gawking, soaking in the powerful images in front of him, and at that moment, he realized that Hope was in the truest sense a remarkable artist.
***
The hot water cascaded over her skin and soaked into her aching bones. Letting out an exhale, she pushed her body deeper down into the tub and shivered at its hold on her. She needed this. Running the sponge over her arm, she soaked in total ecstasy.
“Thank you, Michael,” she whispered, listening to the music coming from the hall. Coltrane was a good choice, perfect for the night that they were having.
She was betting a lot on this stranger. For all she knew, he could have been a murderer or a rapist, but something about him told her that she could trust him. It was risky, and something that she normally would have never considered. However, in the last six weeks, she had learned to trust some people a little more and not trust others at all.
Sean crept into her thoughts and at the same time her muscles tensed. That rat bastard! The moment she had let her guard down, he had found an opportunity to betray her once more. It was because of him that she was allowing Michael into her life – literally, but what choice did she have? If she went at this alone, it could honestly be more painful than it had to be. But she also could wake up tomorrow to an empty house, robbed by another snake in the grass.
The thought made her laugh.
Damned if I do, she thought to herself. This was one time that she was just going to have to gamble on her gut and trust that it would not lead her in the wrong direction again. Besides, her grandma had accused her of being a good judge of character most of the time.
Only life had never been quite so complicated for her, and she had faced some pretty serious situations. However, not having her sight was teaching her a lot about herself. For one thing, she realized that she needed to listen to people more. Tone went a long way when there was little else to build upon. It was also making her appreciate God’s true gifts. When she got her sight back again, she promised that she’d never complain again about having painter’s block. Just being able to see shapes and colors and people again would be motivation enough.
She prayed quietly. Lord in heaven knew how badly she wanted her sight back. Maybe she had been blind to Sean, blind to her decisions to trust him, blind to the way that he had treated her, but if He would just give her back her sight again, she promised to pay more attention to the person behind the face. She promised to be a better person. Just PLEASE. All she wanted was her sight back.
The prayer brought tears to her eyes.
“You can heal anyone at any time. Heal me,” she pleaded. “Please, Father. I beg you.” Her words were barely above a whisper, but powerful enough to make her cry. Even as she pleaded, her body trembled with emotion. “Father, I need you,” she called out to God. “Help me. Please. Give me my sight back.”
She sat in the tub for a while alone in her thoughts, in the silence of the room, in the darkness of her despair, before she finally decided to break away and pull herself from her pain. There was no room in her life for self-pity. She had enough to deal with.
After washing up thoroughly, she pulled the plug out of her tub and stood up. The steam moved off her body in waves. Naked and still trembling, she reached out for the big towel Michael had left her and dried off her upper body. Slowly negotiating her way out of the tub, she reached for the sink to stabilize herself but missed it by a few inches.
Before she could get her bearings and plant her feet solidly, she felt herself falling. Fear ripped through her. Grabbing for the shower curtain frantically, she tumbled, hitting her head on the hard, cold floor and bringing the world down around her.
Michael heard the clang from the other side of the house. Turning, he bolted in a sprint toward the bathroom, sloshing wine out onto the floor. “Hope!” he screamed out, twisting the knob. Setting down the empty glass beside the door, he tried again.
The door was locked, but he could hear her moan in pain behind it.
Stepping back without thought, he quickly kicked the door in and found her twisted in the white linen curtain on the floor, blood mingling in the water around her from a busted head.
Swooping her up quickly in his arms, he grabbed the towel and nearly slipped himself in the mess.
Dazed, Hope mumbled something before her head flitted back. Dangling in his arms, her long hair spilled over and her naked body curled into his embrace.
She could feel herself being carried swiftly to her bedroom and then Michael laid her on the bed and covered her body. Pulling off his shirt, he used it to cover the wound just above her eye to stop the bleeding.
“Hope,” he called to her.
Reaching for him, she touched his bare muscular chest and then fell back into the pillows.
“Darling,” she heard him say. “Stay with me.”
“I’ll be okay,” she finally said, getting her bearings as best as she could. She lied despite the agonizing pain.
“Where is your medic kit?” he asked, running back to her bathroom.
“Under the cabinet,” she mumbled.
He came back with a towel of ice, bandages and ointment. Sliding up beside her on the bed, he put her head in his lap and tended to her gash. She winced in pain, but tried not to complain. Blinking as the blood ran in her eyes, she suddenly saw more than shadows.
First fuzzy, now the room had color.
“Michael,” she stuttered in disbelief. Words wouldn’t form fast enough.
“I’m right here,” he assured her.
She blinked again. This time the color had more shape. “Michael,” she said again.
“It will be alright. I promise,” he answered her in a soft, soothing tone.
She grabbed his arm as he gently wiped her face and then stared up at him. His beautiful face slowly and more precisely came into view, though not as clear as a picture. Swallowing hard as tears erupted, she made herself speak.
“Michael,” she said again.
“Yes, what is it, dear? Do you need to go to the hospital?” he asked, face warped in fear.
Her breath nearly left her. “I can…see you,” she said, gazing into his bright blue eyes.
He looked down at her and frowned. Moving her long locks of wet, bloody hair out of her face, he shook his head. “What?”
She smiled. “I can see you.”
Chapter 11
Michael couldn’t breathe despite his best efforts. As his eyes blazed down into Hope’s angelic face, his heart literally stopped. So beautiful. The intoxicating fragrance of bath soaps and perfume mixed with the glistening of her soft brown skin was pure unadulterated torture. To be so close in proximity to her - this magnificent woman who was now a part of his deepest fantasies – but not being able to really have her had him paralyzed.
He had never had a muse before, but he knew that she was without a doubt that to him. It was the way she blinked with her wing-like black lashes, the way the sweet sweat rolled down her swan-like neck and pooled at her throat, the way the heat emanated from her curvy body and soaked into his own skin that pushed him to the near brink of giving in to his domineering hunger for her.
His body whispered, I want you.
Forcing himself to exhale, he swallowed down the fear of what she must be thinking as she looked up at him. The innocence in her eyes confounded him. How much of me can she see, h
e thought to himself? How much has she already put together? There were so many questions in such a short space of time until he almost did not process the fact that she was lying here with him naked. That was, until she abruptly moved.
“Ouch,” she muttered suddenly.
The pain of her busted head caused an involuntary spasm followed by her arm rising to touch the bandage he had placed on her wound. As soon as she did so, her towel slipped below her bust line, exposing her beautiful ripe brown nipples.
Damn. That was over kill. His mouth watered incessantly.
Although he quickly looked away, his arousal was immediately apparent. His primitive reaction was almost painful, it happened so fast. Growing without his approval or control, he tried to adjust her off his erection, but it only made it worse and more obvious.
“Apologies,” he said, hating himself for his mishap.
Hope smiled. “Is that for me?” she asked, voice teasing.
His baritone was low and husky. “You shouldn’t make fun.” Placing a careful hand on her back, he raised her up. “It’s been a while for me. I’m afraid your breasts are quite a break from the normal excitement of Hernando, Mississippi.” His facetious tone did nothing for the sexual tension in the room, though he tried hard to mask it.
Breasts? Hope hadn’t realized until that moment that she was even exposed. Looking down, she pulled the towel up as fast as she could. “Holy shit! Sorry.” Her nervous laugh told on her.
“Not so funny when it’s you is it?” he asked with a devilish smile. Refreshingly, he felt better when he saw her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Plus, it was also a thrill to know that those perfect little Hershey-kiss nipples happened to have been erect as his own discomfort. She wasn’t as innocent as she appeared.
“Stop laughing at me,” she said, hitting his arm as she held tight to the towel with the other hand.
He caught her hand playfully and paused, looking at her long beautiful fingers. “How much can you see anyway?” he asked.
Taking her hand away slowly, she sighed and blinked hard. “You’re fuzzy,” she said, looking around the room. She lied about the clarity only because she could see his erection just fine, and it was much larger than it felt on her back. Gazing up toward the ceiling, she held back a smile, “Everything has a glaze on it. But it’s the most I’ve seen in so long, so I’m very grateful.” Her words carried dual meaning. Truthfully, she was quite glad to have her sight come back and have something so sexy to behold.
Michael quickly put one of her decorative pillows over his lap and diverted the conversation to a safer place. “Do we need to get you to a hospital for your injury? You might need stitches.” He tried to guide his mind back to the thing that was most important for now.
“No, but I should get dressed,” she said unable to take her eyes off of him. “Your bandaging should be enough. The last thing I want to do is see the inside of a hospital.” She gawked at him again.
“What?” he asked. Her stare made him nervous. Did she find him unattractive now that she could see him?
She reached out again and touched his face. “From what I can see, you’re beautiful, Michael,” she answered sincerely. “What a difference a day makes.” Her eyes sparkled with approval.
Michael could barely look at her. “Don’t do that,” he warned as he ducked his head.
“Do what?” she asked, knowing the type of reaction she was having on him, because she could feel the force inside of her. Still, she pushed him to admit it.
“Provoke me,” he said, eyes rising to lock on hers. He did not blink. “It’s so hard to be here with you right now like this.” And in just a minute, the pillow would not be enough to disguise it.
“Why?” she whispered. “What’s so hard about being around me?”
Michael could almost feel the pheromones in the room. “Because of the effect that you have on me. I’ve only known you two days,” he said with a chuckle. Wiping his chin, he sighed. “This is crazy.” However, so was every other part of his life.
“I know,” she said, pulling at her towel. “What is even crazier is that I’m still talking to you naked even after flashing you.” Standing up, she tried to smirk as she cleared her throat. “I should change into something more presentable.”
That was his cue to leave the room.
But Michael didn’t move. Of course, he knew that he was supposed to do so, but stubbornly he sat on the end of her bed, legs apart and shirtless. Even as he slumped, his tanned muscles bulged with definition.
“Should you…get dressed?” he asked, as a fair brow shot up at her.
Hope stuttered. The elephant was officially in the room. “I…don’t know.” She had to look away from him. He was too beautiful even as a mosaic to continue to gawk at any longer. “Michael, I’m not one of those types of women.”
“What type?” he asked, even though he damn well knew.
“The one-night-stand type.” Even as she said it, she tried to convince herself that she could just say no. But it was so hard. Everything she was feeling now, she had never felt for a man before. And she knew that because of that, she wasn’t sure what she was capable of doing with or for him.
Michael clarified. “I would never assume that you are that type of woman,” he said with the truest of conviction. “Now, have I been that type of man before?” He shrugged his wide shoulders. “Unfortunately the answer is yes. And I can’t lie; it wasn’t two months ago that I made some horrible choices.” Normally, he would have never told a woman that but with Hope he felt the need to be completely transparent.
Hope licked her lips. That was more information than she wanted to know.
“But in the short time that I’ve gotten to know you, I am absolutely certain that you are nothing less than a lady. And what we decide to do, if anything, will be regarded with the utmost respect.”
She blushed despite her desperate desire to remain serious. “You and your words.”
Michael took a deep breath, putting his fear behind him, and stood up. As soon as he did, a zinger shot through Hope. She didn’t realize how tall he was. He towered over her by nearly a foot.
Reaching out, he offered his hand. At the same time that she took it, he pulled her close and ran his nose and lips down the side of her neck.
The sensuality of it sent chills up her spine and caused an unmistakable wetness between her aching thighs.
“If you tell me we shouldn’t, we won’t,” he whispered. Aching to have her, he kissed a trail down her neck, cooling her hot skin. His eyes flashed at her, full of promise. “But if you tell me you want to, we will.”
Hope felt suddenly overwhelmed. “That’s not fair.” Her voice barely carried above a whisper.
“Life isn’t,” he said, moving her hair out of her face. His mouth curved into a smile. “All I keep thinking about is why I couldn’t have met you first.”
She turned into his words. Looking up at him, she licked her lips. “I want to,” she said, kissing his bottom lip. “But I’m so afraid.”
“For once, so am I.” He put her hand on his chest to allow her to feel his racing heart. “But we’ll do it together…all night until we get it just right.”
There was something about his words that soothed and excited her at the same time.
An exasperated moan escaped her. “Michael,” she said with confirmation, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I don’t want this to just be a thing.”
“Hope,” he responded, eyes flickering with understanding. “It’s not.”
“But I barely know you,” she tried to reason.
“People spend their whole lives together, barely knowing one another for what’s on the surface. But I don’t want that. I’ve had that. I want you.” He smiled at her. “I want you so much; I’m willing to ruin everything by telling you who I really am.”
She loved his accent. Smiling back at him, she shook her head. “Who are you…really?”
Michael raised a brow. It was very rare
that he had to explain who he was, for most people, it was just obvious. “I’m Prince Michael. Duke of Cambridge, Earl of Strathearn, and Baron Carrickfergus,” he sighed like the titles were heavy and troublesome. “And so on, and so on, and so on. I was born a prince; I may very well die a king, but I am at all times at your disposal, madam.”
There was a long pause as he waited for Hope’s response, to which was a hearty laugh. “You always know how to make me laugh,” she said, thinking he was joking.
“I’m glad that my life is amusing to you,” he said nonchalantly. “I’ll be here all night. Don’t forget to tip your waitress.”
“Oh, I’ll tip you alright.” Planting a kiss on his lips, she shut him up. “I hope that you don’t plan on making me laugh all night.”
He ran a finger down her side. “I had some other things in mind.”
Her long, muscular back arched toward him as he pulled down the towel and allowed it to pool around her feet. Heart racing, she prayed that he was happy with the way that she looked completely naked. God knows that she had put on a few extra pounds since she had been blinded.
But Michael was more than satisfied. For a moment, he was stunned.
Melting into him, she allowed all of her inhibitions to give away to the want exploding out of her. This felt right, it felt good, it felt so damn exciting. And for once, she would not deny it or him or herself.
Her rigid nipples pushed into his rock-like chest, prodding him to take her, to recognize the desire blooming. Emotions knotted in her stomach as his fingers trailed her soft skin, wanting so badly to explore every inch of her exotic temple. He could feel her heart beat against his own – an indication of her vulnerability. He could smell her glorious scent wafting up to his nose. Inhaling it gladly, he clenched his square jaw – reminding himself to be gentle, to take his time with her, not to lose control.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he confessed with a cool gleam in his lusty eyes.
Dipping his head down into her atmosphere, he kissed her beautiful, full mouth slowly. It was just as sweet as the first time. Only this time, she was naked, closer and most importantly attainable. She tasted like cool mint and sweet honey, and he couldn’t get enough of her nectar, no matter how he tried. The deeper the kiss became, the more the room began to spin. The laws of gravity began to give way and they began to float in each other’s arms.
Highness (The Lonely Heart Series) Page 11