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Someday My Prints Will Come

Page 7

by Marilyn Baron

“Do you like to cook anything else?” he asked, trying to settle himself.

  “I bake cookies.”

  “The ones I just tasted. They were heavenly.”

  “That’s about it for my cooking repertoire. The way I see it, why mess with success? I’ll admit, I’m not very comfortable with change.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard of the expression ‘variety is the spice of life’?”

  “Mr. Emissary, just for the purposes of discussion, if ever we became lovers—that is to say, if I were yours and you were mine, and I held your heart—would you honestly want me to seek variety, as you call it, with other men?”

  He hadn’t considered that. It was a trick question, and he thought the best course was to answer it with silence.

  “That’s what I thought. I’ve heard it told that fidelity can be quite a turn-on. In my opinion, it is a virtue. You should keep that in mind.”

  She had cleared away the plates, and they were sitting on a very roomy and comfortable couch in front of a roaring fire, looking out the window at the waves crashing, drinking wine that tasted like the nectar of the gods out of crystal goblets, and munching on delicate slices of those almond cookies Eva was always baking.

  “What do you put in these things?” he asked. He thought it was very definitely some kind of a love potion, because he was feeling more amorous by the moment.

  “Calm down. I told you before, they’re just cookies.” She paused, drew a breath, and continued. “I’ve been thinking, and after some consideration, I’ve decided to let you instruct me in the ways of seduction.”

  He choked on his wine and had to put the goblet down. He was speechless. The things that came out of her mouth were a constant surprise.

  “I’m beginning to like the sound of this,” he said eagerly, moving closer to her. “It’s not every day a man gets to initiate a goddess. I imagine there would be a lot of pent-up demand, over the centuries.”

  “I’m talking about love, Mr. Emissary, not sex.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Well if you don’t know, then perhaps there is something I can teach you. Have you ever been in love?”

  “Well, of course. Plenty of times. Why there was the time I…then there was the first time I…and then I distinctly remember the girl that…”

  “Just as I thought. I imagine that love to you is like filling up your car at a gas station. When you need to refuel you simply pull into a station, any station, it doesn’t matter which, and fill up. Then you run for a while until you need more…gas…and you stop at a different station. Does that about cover it?”

  After a moment, she continued, “Let me give you another example. It would be like a woman agreeing to go on a cruise with you, then coming home and the next week going on a cruise with another man. You would be sharing her. Would you mind?”

  Was that a rhetorical question? Again, silence seemed to be the best course of action.

  She smiled.

  “Yes, that’s why, even though I find you arrogant, sexist, shallow, and crude, I thought I might find you useful.”

  Exactly how was he supposed to respond to that?

  “You see, in my haste to leave my home, I left my Matchmaking Manual behind.”

  “Eva, I can teach you things that you won’t find in any manual.”

  “Tell me, Mr. Emissary, do all of your lessons end up in the bedroom?”

  “Not necessarily. I can be very inventive.”

  “I’m sure. That’s why I shut down my computer for the evening, so you can’t do any further damage to the equipment.” She thought for a moment. “I never had a father, growing up, so I haven’t been around many men,” she began hesitantly.

  “And I grew up not really knowing my mother,” he offered. “I never had a sister. I had every material advantage. But love and affection were in short supply around our home. So perhaps there are things we can learn from each other.”

  ****

  “That was exactly the right response,” she smiled, not dismissing the possibility that he might be playing with her emotions. “My family was involved in all the great love matches through the centuries. Antony and Cleopatra? Ours. Napoleon and Désirée? Ours. Nicholas and Alexandra? Ours. Victoria and Albert? Ours. Edward and Mrs. Simpson? Ours. Gable and Lombard? Ours. But I’ll admit I know very little about the intricacies of love. I feel that is a shortcoming in my profession. Would you be willing to teach me? Do you think I could learn?”

  He moved closer, until they were almost touching and his lips were only a breath away.

  He lowered his voice to a whisper and covered her hands with his. “You have all the right equipment, Eva. You have a body built for love. You have curves in all the right places. And your eyes…A man could lose himself in those eyes. You’re soft, and you’re sensual, and you have layers you haven’t even tapped yet. You’re unbearably sweet and impossibly innocent. You would feel so good against me the first time we made love and every time after that.”

  ****

  It was a minute before she could start breathing again.

  “And how do you feel about my brain?” she said, trying to breaking the mood.

  “It’s serviceable.”

  “Spoken like a true man. Even I know that it takes both the heart and the head to experience true love. The problem with you is you think with neither of these.”

  She started to get up, and he pulled her back down to the couch.

  “Eva, please don’t go,” he said. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I have a lot to learn about love. Will you teach me?”

  This was probably a bad idea, she thought. A dangerous one. But she couldn’t look away from him.

  “Come outside with me for a moment,” she said, grabbing his hand and leading him out to the balcony. She was still nervous and not quite ready to begin. “I want to show you something.”

  They walked outside, and her hand remained in his.

  “Look at the night sky,” she said, staring up. The inky blackness enveloped them, punctuated by bright pins of light. She wanted to share this with him. At the same time, she knew she was stalling. “Do you ever take the time to just look at the stars? Wonder how the world could be so beautiful?”

  “My work keeps me very busy, but, yes, it is very beautiful from this vantage point,” he agreed, looking at Eva and not up at the sky.

  “Let’s make a wish,” she suggested, holding on tightly to his hand. He was lightly stroking her palm, trying to calm her nerves, but she was still trembling. He rubbed her shoulders with his other hand.

  “I will wish on Venus,” she said.

  “What will you wish for?” he asked.

  “What I usually wish for. I’ll wish to go home again.”

  ****

  He winced. He had a distinct advantage. He knew all about her, but she knew next to nothing about him. He knew she could never go home again, not the way she envisioned home. He felt like a fraud. Then he looked up and removed his hand from her shoulder, pointing.

  “I’ll wish on that star. It’s so bright, it’s flashing. What’s it called?”

  “That’s an airplane,” she said, turning away and raising her hand to smother a smile.

  “No, look, up there. That’s a star. I’d bet on it.”

  “And you’d lose. Don’t look now, but your star is coming in for a landing, Mr. Emissary.”

  He focused on the star until even he began to detect movement.

  “Perhaps it was a shooting star.” He laughed. “Let’s go inside. I think you’re beginning to get a chill.”

  They walked in, and he maneuvered her over to the couch. She was silent for a while, staring into the fire.

  “So, how do we get started?” she asked quietly.

  “Let’s start with touch,” he said, turning her to face him.

  He skimmed his finger gently along her jawline.

  “Tell me, Eva, how does it feel when I touch you like this…here.” Her pulse quickened. Then he t
raced his finger to outline her lips. “Or here.” She was becoming breathless. Then he moved lower and ran his finger along her neck and across her breast. Her heart fluttered. “And here.”

  “It feels…right,” she said and gulped.

  “Are you beginning to get aroused?” he asked, his voice deep and hypnotic as if he were trying to place her in a trance.

  “Perhaps,” she answered. “How will I know if I am aroused?”

  “Oh, you’ll know. And when you come to that path in the road, you’ll have no choice but to follow it.”

  “And how will I know when you are aroused?” she ventured.

  ****

  Could she really be as innocent as she claimed to be? Did she not realize what she was doing to him?

  “Eva, you ask a lot of questions. You should be feeling, not thinking.”

  “But this is supposed to be a lesson, isn’t it?”

  He growled and touched his fingertips to hers, opening her palm and patiently placing it over his heart.

  “Here,” he said and lowered her hand, holding it in place. “And here.” He felt the drumbeat of her soul.

  “Oh, my,” she said and drew back. “Did I do that?”

  “Don’t act so smug. You know you did.”

  “How? When I touched you?”

  “You honestly don’t know?” he asked her.

  She shook her head.

  He smoothed his hand down the back of her head. “You don’t even have to touch me. It’s the way you toss your hair. It’s the turn of your neck.”

  He rubbed his fingers over her lips. “The way you smile. Your voice. Your beautiful face. Everything about you does it for me, Eva.”

  She seemed genuinely surprised.

  “You obviously haven’t been paying attention. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes or my hands off you since we met.”

  He brought his lips back to hers and kissed her gently. Then he took her face in his hands and deepened the kiss, wetting her lips and trying to invade her mouth. He wanted to taste her tongue, to taste all of her. While his mouth was assaulting her senses, his hands moved to caress her. He moved close, so close, and so slowly she was hardly aware he was unbuttoning her blouse. He began tracing his fingers along the line of her bra.

  Things were moving fast. He hoped she didn’t feel cornered. He could tell she was nervous, but it didn’t look like she wanted him to stop. Then he unhooked her bra, and her hands flew to cover herself.

  He patiently removed them. Her breasts were magnificent, large and full and soft. No sudden moves, he thought, and began to stroke them tenderly, almost absently, and rubbed her nipple until it was taut in his hands. Then he moved his tongue and lips down to repeat the movement. She was breathing heavily now, and she arched away from him.

  “Oh, god, Eva, you are beautiful, so beautiful.” He silenced her moans with his mouth and teased her mercilessly.

  “I want to give you pleasure, Eva. This is only the beginning. There’s more, much more,” he said, and his breath grew ragged.

  ****

  “Show me,” Eva said, trying to put up a brave front to disguise the fact that she was scared out of her mind. She was slowly spinning out of control, swamped with sensations she had never felt before. When he touched her breasts, she’d felt an ache down below. He sensed that and placed his hand over her where the need was. Then he slipped off her skirt and lowered her panties. He stroked the inside of her thighs tortuously until his fingers found her heat.

  “Oh, god,” she said and bucked.

  “Easy, Eva love, don’t be afraid. Does that feel good?”

  She couldn’t speak, but her cries and movements must have told him what he needed to know. He increased the pressure and continued to stroke her gently.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked, with a smug smile that telegraphed he knew what her answer would be.

  She shook her head. For a minute she experienced a feeling like…like she was free-falling and then floating. Lulled into a sense of serenity, she wasn’t prepared for the first explosion.

  She looked at him imploringly. Then she grabbed on to him and flung her face against his chest. He smiled.

  “That happened too fast, Eva. Let me make it last this time.”

  “I think I heard the earth beginning to shake,” she said aloud. Or are those just the tremors in my heart?

  He kissed her then, one of those electrifying, machine-pinging kisses that rocked her system.

  “No, baby, you’ll know it when the earth moves. And you won’t be able to stop it.”

  There were tears in her eyes, and he kissed them away. Then he kissed her again until he could feel her trembling in his arms, and he touched her everywhere, savoring her and keeping up the pressure with his fingers. Softly, until she was wet. He wanted her, so intensely that he could feel the pressure building in waves. Needed her until he could hardly stand it, but he wanted her to feel everything there was to feel before he entered her. He wanted her to be ready for him, so he didn’t hurt her. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her.

  ****

  “What’s next?” she wanted to know.

  “Don’t think, Eva, don’t analyze, just feel. Let yourself go again.”

  He removed his slacks, and she could feel his hardness against her. She reached down to touch him. She had seen pictures of the nude male form, but nothing this close. He was magnificent, so strong, and yet so gentle.

  “Eva, no, don’t touch me there yet, you’ll kill me.”

  She shrank back. She didn’t want to injure him. She was just beginning to get used to him, to like him, perhaps even to love him.

  He laughed. “That’s a figure of speech. Now, lie down. That’s right. Let me get on top of you. Like this. He moved himself over her, teasing her, then entered her gently, and he pushed deeper, deeper, until she cried out.

  “No,” she said and bit her lip as she tried to get away. But that only made him want her more.

  ****

  “Eva, baby, it’s okay. It’s supposed to hurt the first time.” He kissed her again, trying to take her mind off what was happening to her. He withdrew almost completely and then pushed again.

  “Now wrap your legs around me, and take me inside of you,” he called out, but he was almost beyond talking. He just knew he had to have her, right this very minute. He was going to explode if he didn’t get release, and he held her eyes with his own.

  “Look at me, Eva.” She did, and her eyes glazed over, and she moved under him now, trying to bring him further inside. He linked her hands with his. It was like riding a soaring comet across the sky, hot, quick, and intense, the way they came together, until she came apart and he poured himself into her and screamed out her name. Lightning flashed at the window and thunder crashed, but there was not a drop of rain outside. Was the explosion only in his head? Or did she see and feel it too?

  “I did feel the earth shake that time,” she said, frightened.

  “Don’t be afraid. It’s not the earth moving, Eva, it’s our love you felt.”

  When it was over, he was the one who couldn’t move. In the afterglow, he bathed in the sweet, suffused heat and light of her love. She was amazing. Making love to her was amazing. She was his.

  He looked down at her.

  “Eva, baby, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

  “A little. But you also made me feel things I’ve never felt before. Is this really love, do you think?”

  “If it’s not, it’s the closest thing I’ve ever come to it. It must be, because I’ve never felt this way before, ever. I need you to believe me, Eva.”

  “I do. I trust you.”

  No one had ever said those words to him before. He looked down at her and thought his heart was going to spill over.

  “Eva, I think I’m in love with you,” he said. “I know I want to be with you all the time. And when I’m not with you I’m thinking of nothing but you. I can’t sleep. I have this need inside of me that only y
ou can satisfy.”

  “I think of you, too. At night, I’m restless, and I play our conversations over and over again in my head. And I can’t wait until you walk through that door. Do you think that’s love?”

  “I think it must be,” he acknowledged.

  They just looked at each other in wonder. Then they slept. When she awoke, she asked, “How did I do on my first lesson?”

  “Fine, honey, you did just fine,” he said, kissing her nose affectionately. “If I had a sticker, you’d get a gold star. Now I want to talk to you about scheduling our next lesson.”

  “Is there more to learn?”

  “Oh, there’s more. So much more.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The emissary’s visit left Eva confused and agitated. She barely slept the entire night. Before she left home, her mother had warned her not to be too free with her heart, but it was in her nature to love completely. She needed to focus on love. She could hardly find love for other people when she couldn’t resolve her own feelings about the emotion. After spending the bulk of the morning mailing the last batch of mismatched prints to the proper photo processors, Eva tapped aimlessly on her terminal.

  A President’s daughter. A lonely CEO. A supermodel. A widow. She wasn’t in the mood to make a match today. In fact, the emissary had made her doubt her own abilities. She couldn’t seem to satisfy him with a mate for Mr. Prinsky. Perhaps she could do some good surfing the Web.

  This Wendi Davidow woman was puzzling. Eva had succeeded in making a match for her roommate, Rachel. In fact, rumor had it that Rachel was engaged. But Wendi was a difficult case. She didn’t believe in love. She wasn’t even receptive to the idea. Had she been denied love as a child? Had someone she loved hurt her? Beneath that tough surface, Eva was sure Wendi had been bruised and was still bearing the scars. What could have influenced her to close her heart to love? Eva wondered if she herself was guilty of the same behavior—of building a wall to protect herself from love.

  Wendi had hooked up with a number of men but never really connected to any of them. She was always ready with a caustic comment and a comeback. She was too sassy for her own good, Eva thought. Too cynical to catch a man. Well, Eva was not going to stop until she found a match for this obstinate woman. It would have to be somebody as prickly and as stubborn as Wendi. Eva scanned the profiles until she located the perfect candidate—a man who could handle the female hellion. He certainly had what it took to tame her. But the man’s answers were all wrong. He’d never snag a girl like Wendi with his amiable approach. Eva’s fingers flew over the keys and made a few necessary additions and deletions in the text. Perhaps even a screen name change was in order. If this new, improved “bad boy” didn’t catch Wendi’s eye and melt her heart, then Eva didn’t know her business. And when she fell hard for him, she’d realize he was really just a nice guy, and by then it would be too late. Eva made a notation to send her most potent batch of mandel bread to “Raunchy in Rhode Island.”

 

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