Someday My Prints Will Come

by Marilyn Baron

  He hadn’t meant to go into her bedroom earlier, but he was drawn there, wandering the large room and into her closets, trying to get the feel, the smell of her. Her room was like a museum. And the paintings were marvelous. He knew a lot about art, and he would stake his reputation that every piece was authentic. Where had they come from? Had they been in her private collection all these years? Why hadn’t they surfaced before? There was no documentation on any of these. All part of the mystery that was Eva. A mystery he intended to solve.

  ****

  She walked off the elevator and startled when she saw him on her balcony. Color rose to her cheeks and she tried to cover herself.

  “What are you doing here? Did we have an appointment? Because if we did, I think I would have remembered.”

  “No, I’m just anxious to get on with it. I’m in town until I complete this assignment.” He moved closer to her, and her arm swung up to stop him.

  “Stay there,” she cautioned as she moved into her bedroom. There was no way he was coming into her sanctuary. That was off limits. Hastily, she grabbed a robe that she didn’t realize molded to her figure, hugging the moisture still on her body from her dripping hair. It didn’t leave much to the imagination.

  “How did you get in here?” she asked.

  “I rang your bell, and when no one answered, I let myself in.”

  “Cupid, get your tail out from under that bed,” she called out. “What kind of a watch dog are you, anyway?”

  Cupid came out of Eva’s bedroom, peered out from behind her legs, and then started sniffing the man.

  “I think she likes me,” he said, gently scratching the dog on the back of its neck until the hairs stood up on the back of hers.

  “Hey, baby, hey, sweetheart, hey, Cupid, how’s it going? This is some ferocious lap dog you’ve got here.” He laughed. And his words and the way he handled the dog touched something inside of her.

  Both her body and her dog were beginning to betray her.

  “Cupid hates men,” Eva said, frowning.

  “Maybe she’s never been around a real man, before,” the emissary said, lowering his voice.

  Eva rolled her eyes and tried to hold onto what was left of her composure.

  “I saw you,” he said and his voice quivered.

  “Saw me where?”

  “In the water,” he said quietly.

  Her body tensed again.

  “Is spying on other people part of your regular repertoire, Mr. Emissary?”

  “I wasn’t spying. I was simply waiting on the balcony when you…caught my attention.”

  “Your manners leave a lot to be desired,” she scolded, slicking back her mane of wet hair nervously, unconscious of the fact that her robe was beginning to loosen in the front.

  “Do you really have time for swimming, when you have such important business to attend to?” he questioned, staring at her intently.

  “I do my best thinking in the sea. The water clears my head. It gives my ideas an opportunity to percolate.”

  “You’re beginning to give me ideas,” he said.

  Attempting to turn the topic to business, she said, “Did you get my e-mail message with the photo attachments?”

  “I did, and I must say I was rather disappointed at this first go-round.”

  Eva bristled.

  “You’re rather picky, aren’t you?”

  “I prefer the word ‘discriminating.’ ”

  Eva rolled her eyes again. “I sent you a selection of some of the most beautiful, intelligent women in America. They’re CEOs, heiresses, supermodels, accomplished painters, and even some with distant royal ties. Of course, they’re all fabulously wealthy, and all willing to…procreate.”

  “I love it when you talk dirty,” he said.

  “You’re crude, Mr. Whatever-your-name-is.”

  “And I’m also your client. You’d best keep that in mind. At any rate, they didn’t measure up.”

  “You read my reports on each?”

  “I did. Very thorough, but none struck my fancy.”

  “Your fancy?” she bridled. “I thought this was a match for Mr. Prinsky. Or is this all a ruse? Am I really making this match for you? Are you hiding behind Mr. Prinsky?”

  “I hide behind no one,” the man said. “And Mr. Prinsky trusts me implicitly with his business and his personal affairs. Believe me when I say I don’t need a matchmaker to get a woman.”

  She believed him.

  “Were they not beautiful enough for you?” she wondered.

  “They were all beautiful, as promised, and as expected. But something is missing.”

  “And what would that be? Could you be a little more definitive?”

  “I’ll know it when I see it.”

  His complaint niggled at her. In fact, she had been having doubts about her abilities while she bathed in the ocean this morning. She was competent at her craft, even proficient at her profession, but she had not yet mastered all the subtle nuances of the love match—the art of seduction and the game of playful pursuit and acquiescence. Parts of the process were instinctive, intuitive, but something was lacking in her, and he had picked up on her inadequacies. There was a lot she had yet to learn from her mother. What did she really know about love? Nothing first-hand. And now she was completely alone, with no hope of ever finding out.

  “Have you ever been with a man, Eva?” he asked softly.

  She tightened the tie on her robe and clasped her hands across her chest. Was this man a mind reader?

  “That’s a very personal and impudent question.”

  “Well if you’ve never been with a man, than how can you possibly know what a man wants in a woman?”

  “I know all I need to know, Mr. Emissary. I know how to do my job.”

  ****

  His mind was spinning. In truth, he was stalling for time. The more candidates she sent to him, the closer he was to losing her. If he made a selection, he would lose her forever. Looking at her, her beautiful face, he was stunned by the reality that for the first time in his life he had found a woman in which nothing was lacking.

  “Look, I’m in town, and I know no one. I thought perhaps you could join me for dinner tonight, and we could discuss our project in greater detail.”

  “Hmmm,” she considered, curling her fingers around her mouth, frowning and biting on her lower lip in a way that had his pulse racing again. She hesitated, then relented. Anything to get him out of here so she could change into something decent.

  “Okay,” she decided. “And now I really must insist that you leave so I can get dressed.”

  “Until tonight,” he sighed, skimming his knuckles across her cheek, causing her to tremble. “It’s a date. I shall pick you up at seven.”

  A date! She had never been on one of those before. Suddenly, she panicked. She didn’t have a thing to wear. What she needed was a fairy godmother, and they were in very short supply.

  Chapter Twelve

  She was as nervous as a child. As skittish as a cat. And as restless as a wanderer. And she had no idea why. Grabbing Cupid, Eva placed a kiss on the dog’s forehead and snuggled her down in a large apron pocket, paws forward, so she wouldn’t miss any of the action. Eva liked to keep Cupid close when she was cooking, but the dog had a habit of getting underfoot.

  “And speaking of feet, Cupid, did you know you have feet like a rabbit? Little rabbit feet.” She smoothed her hands over the dog’s paws. Then rinsed her hands in the sink.

  She began taking ingredients out of the cabinets and measuring them. Cooking always calmed her nerves, and she usually stated the measurements aloud, just to be sure she had them right. “Let’s see, one cup of oil…one cup of sugar…three eggs…” She creamed them well together.

  “Four cups flour…two teaspoons baking powder…a half teaspoon of salt…one teaspoon of cinnamon…” She gradually added those to the creamed ingredients. Then she added a teaspoon of vanilla and half a teaspoon of almond extract and a splash of
amaretto liqueur to the mixture. “Now one cup of chopped almonds…” Sometimes she put in walnuts or pecans, with chocolate chips, if she fancied them that day. “And approximately one tablespoon of grated lemon rind.” Sometimes she used orange rind. But today she was in a lemony mood.

  She reached for the large jar in the refrigerator containing the secret ingredient and placed a drop into the mixture.

  Moistening her hands with oil, she formed the batter into four fairly loose and sticky 3x10 loaves and placed them side by side on a greased cookie sheet.

  She put them in the oven and baked at 350 degrees for approximately twenty minutes, making sure to watch them carefully against burning. When they were a very light beige, she removed them and let them cool in the pan before cutting them into half-inch slices. Then she dipped them in a mixture of cinnamon and sugar and put them back into a slow oven for approximately five minutes, turned them, and baked for five minutes more, until crisp, again watching them carefully.

  Another perfect batch. She was feeling better already.

  Chapter Thirteen

  There was candlelight and violin music and champagne. Theirs was a private table in a secluded area of a restaurant called The Crow’s Nest, on top of a rugged mountain with a breathless view. The waiters were efficient and discreet.

  “This is lovely,” Eva said.

  “You’re lovely,” repeated the emissary for the third time since he’d picked her up, as his heart kicked into overdrive.

  “Thank you for saying so,” she said, smiling sweetly.

  When he’d arrived at her door earlier that evening, she had rendered him practically speechless. She fairly flowed, all long-limbed and well-defined in her short seafoam green chiffon dress. Diamonds dangled tastefully from her ears, sparkled as they adorned her throat and circled her arm. He was just beginning to recover his composure.

  “You’ve never been here before?” he wondered.

  “I don’t get out much,” she explained.

  He raised his champagne flute, she raised hers, and he toasted, “To our project.”

  His eyes were drawn to her full, kissable lips when she brought the crystal to them, and he watched her neck as the champagne went down. Then he filled her glass again.

  “Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Emissary?”

  “Not drunk. Just a little looser. You’re way too serious, Eva.”

  “Love is a serious business,” she replied.

  He reached over and his knuckles brushed her cheek softly. Then he placed a feathery kiss on her lips. Her mouth flew open.

  “Sorry, Eva, I acted on impulse.”

  “Do you usually apologize for your impulses?”

  “Not usually,” he admitted.

  “Are you really sorry?”

  “No.”

  ****

  “It’s okay. It was nice, actually.” Nice! She felt weak. Her heart was pounding. Her head was spinning. Her insides were melting. It was so much more than nice.

  “I may want to do that again,” he cautioned.

  “Now?” she asked, hopefully.

  “Why don’t we order first?” He smiled.

  He ordered for both of them. Lobster bisque; fried lobster tail with garlic mashed potatoes accompanied by a honey mustard dipping sauce and hot drawn butter. How did he guess that lobster was her favorite? She loved anything to do with the sea.

  The soup was thick, rich, creamy, and delicious, almost decadent. It was also salty, so they washed it down with more champagne.

  When the lobster tails arrived, he cut a small piece from his plate, dipped the morsel in butter, and fed it to her across the table.

  “Mmm. Delicious,” she said.

  ****

  Eva talked about her business and he about his. When he told her about his life, he thought he came across as sounding happy, but from the moment he had met Eva, he realized that he had never been completely happy. And from that first moment, he knew what true happiness was. He hadn’t even heard a word she was saying. All he could think about was how much he wanted her.

  “I’ve brought another set of photos for you to review,” Eva said, lifting the file from her briefcase and handing it to him across the table while they waited for the dessert menus.

  “Thanks.” He perused the file. At another time, he would have found the girls she presented breathtaking. Each was more beautiful than the next. But they paled in comparison to the enchantress sitting right across from him.

  “Do you see anything you like?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said and stared into her eyes soulfully. “But it’s not in the file.” He reached for her hand. There was that spark again.

  “I can’t concentrate on any of these other women, Eva, not with such a goddess sitting in front of me.”

  She blushed. And something stirred inside of him. She broke away from his grip to sip some more champagne.

  “Do you know what I’m saying to you?”

  He could see that she didn’t. For all her supposed knowledge, she was still naïve in the ways of love.

  “I want to get my hands on you. I want you, Eva.”

  She looked confused. He came around to her side of the table and kissed her again, this time more insistently.

  “Why don’t we skip dessert and let me take you home?”

  She nodded. He took care of the bill and led her out to the car.

  She could hardly walk straight. He put his arm around her shoulders to steady her. He turned her toward him and kissed her long and hard, losing himself in her.

  “Oh,” she said, surprised, twining her arms around his neck.

  Then he helped her into the car, and they were silent all the way home.

  When he brought her to the door, she almost tripped on the front step, and he caught her in his arms.

  He brought her inside and sat her down on the couch. He knew he would have to go slow. But his body was rushing him. No woman in the world had ever made him feel quite this way.

  “Eva,” he began. He couldn’t resist kissing her again, and she poured herself into the kiss, artlessly but completely.

  “Open your mouth for me, Eva,” he instructed. She did, and his tongue moved in to tangle with hers.

  He heard her whimper. He wanted to touch her everywhere, to taste her, and when he started to arouse her, she responded and felt hot to his touch. She was so silky, so sexy, so intoxicating. So intoxicated!

  He wanted her more than he had ever wanted any other woman. But he couldn’t take her this way when she was so defenseless, so powerless against him.

  “Let me take you to bed, Eva,” he whispered gruffly, lifting her into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom. When he deposited her on the bed, her head slumped over and she was immediately dead to the world. He drew back the covers, removed her shoes and jewelry, then removed her dress and bra and replaced them with one of the nightgowns he found in her dresser. Before he left the room, he looked down at her and thought, This is what love is. How had he fallen so completely and hopelessly in love with this woman in so short a time? Had she cast a spell on him, given him some kind of love potion? He couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t explain the tender feelings he had for her, the fierce need he had to protect her. His Eva. He placed a soft kiss on her lips, and she stirred and tried to snuggle against him when he covered her, but he shut off the light and walked out the door. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I’ve invited you to dinner to thank you for that very lovely evening we had last night and to discuss a proposition with you,” Eva began, rubbing her hands together anxiously. She remembered enjoying dinner very much, but she’d had some very disturbing dreams, and what had happened after dinner wasn’t quite clear to her. Had he seduced her? She thought he had, but she’d never been seduced before. And she wasn’t used to drinking champagne, so she might not have been thinking straight.

  She couldn’t very well ask him if he’d…if they’
d…if anything untoward had happened. Wouldn’t she have known, if it had? Either way, she’d woken up feeling quite deliciously satisfied, yet strangely restless.

  “Sounds interesting,” he said, piercing her with his beautiful green eyes.

  They’d gotten their business out of the way earlier. She’d handed him a thick folder containing photos of more of the country’s most beautiful, most desirable, most eligible women. He had scanned it perfunctorily and summarily rejected every one of them. Nothing new about that.

  “The matzo ball soup was very tasty and flavorful,” he said. “I’ve never had that before. The matzo balls were very light and fluffy, like air…rarefied air.”

  “It’s an old family recipe.”

  “The brisket was so tender, it melted in my mouth,” he continued. “Where do you find that particular cut of meat? I’ll have to tell my cook about it. ”

  “From the Lobster Cove Grocery Mart,” she said. “I grow all the vegetables in my own garden.”

  “Do you really? I’d like to see the garden one day.”

  ****

  This polite conversation was driving him mad when all he really wanted to do was take her in his arms again and kiss the breath out of her.

  “My mother always said that the way to a man’s heart is through his… Well, we never actually completed that lesson,” she admitted.

  By the gods, did the woman realize what she was doing to him?