by Antoinette
All too soon, the night was over as she awoke sleeping in his arms. The storm had dumped nearly three feet of snow overnight and they were overwhelmed by the sights outside. A few tree branches had blown across the yard and the snowdrifts were more than four feet high, including the one outside her front door. The wind was still gusting as London brewed some coffee. Max built a fire and made some calls. She toasted English muffins and they chatted at the table as they ate. Max said that he called his crew but they wouldn’t make it over to plow them out until tomorrow. The transportation department was scrambling to get the main roads cleared and wouldn’t get to side roads until much later in the day.
They decided to make the best of a day off and reminisced about snow days as children. They watched TV by the blazing hot fire, took a steamy shower together, and made love all afternoon. The evening disappeared as they cooked, ate, and polished off a bottle of red wine, making for a wonderful day together.
The next morning, London heard the plow trucks. She jumped up to chat with them over the intercom. Max bundled up and headed out to shovel around the gates before London pushed the button to open them. Soon the driveway was noisy with plow trucks and snowblowers to the rescue. Max came back inside once they’d left, stomping off the snow at the doorway, waiting to say good-bye. She came over, still in her silky black robe, and kissed him long and hard before releasing him. Leaving her side wasn’t easy, but he had a few things to attend to at his office before heading over to the antique shop that afternoon. She missed him even before his truck was out of sight, but she knew she would see him again very soon as her exciting new adventure continued.
Chapter 13
ANGEL FOOD CAKE WITH BERRIES AND CREAM
January blew by like the blustery winter wind but had been a blur of intimate bliss mixed with business for London. Research, ordering, and deliveries consumed her days. The renovations kept Max very busy too and allowed them time together daily. She had convinced herself not to overanalyze their relationship. She wanted to form a friendship first. She was just enjoying each day, savoring each moment. He seemed to value her hopes and dreams as he helped to make them come true.
Max and his crew had started by cleaning and preparing the basement so that she would have proper storage for the vast inventory that was being shipped in. They had also roughed in the loft upstairs and quickly installed the royal parquet flooring. The work was coming along nicely and she was able to begin furnishing the shop. She was excited to finish the apartment, which she was decorating partially like Queen Marie Antoinette’s bedchambers as she persisted in re-creating the inspirational dream she’d had.
She was in no hurry to rent out the loft yet, as it gave her a cozy place of solace to retreat to, somewhere she could organize her thoughts while the dusty, noisy remodeling continued on the first-floor partitions. She loved the view of Tarrytown from the window where she had set up a small but dignified desk that resembled the bureau du roi, Louis XV’s rolltop secretary. From her seat at the window, she could see the delivery trucks rolling in alongside the building each day, loaded down with her treasures. She bounded down the stairs like an animated child to meet the deliverymen every afternoon, and the construction crew gladly assisted with moving the furniture to the basement.
She had found just the right table and chairs for the dining room—an eighteenth-century oak buffet parquetry table with eight white straight-back chairs. There were bamboo-armed chairs for the ends of the table. She also found a jam cupboard, an early twentieth-century beechwood bergère, a Louis XV–style cane bench, and a signed bamboo armoire of Napoleon III. Her search continued for a Parisian bookcase and Persian rugs.
She was delighted with a canopy bed she’d located for the loft. It was the perfect shape, and she planned to have it adorned in gold and painted with pink roses and greenery. She’d ordered the ideal curtains to drape over the canopy, while Jon had introduced her to a talented artist, Christopher, who was confident that he could mimic the regal and elaborate walls of Queen Marie Antoinette’s bedchamber.
The surroundings were transforming into her vision; images in her mind came to life all around. She would walk into the shop to find Max and his crew working away. He looked hot in his tool belt and construction gear, perspiring slightly, hammering away as his muscles flexed, the master of every situation he oversaw for the project and his staff. He was so intuitive; she felt he could almost read her mind as he re-created in the physical her mental pictures of the palace. His ruggedness was really beginning to grow on her, and she enjoyed getting to know him better as he thrived within his element. She found him irresistible. She would saunter up the stairs, shooting him a seductive look, then send him a text message that she needed to meet with him. He would sneak away to join her in the loft and together they had succeeded in breaking in the new bed.
Valentine’s Day would soon be here, but it fell on a weeknight. Max had suggested that they celebrate throughout the weekend and enjoy a romantic dinner together on Saturday night. She was relieved to have so many distractions to prevent Deacon from coming to mind too often, especially around Valentine’s Day, which always made her think of him. Her new true love was her store, and Max was a great companion in the adventure.
She awoke at the château and decided to take a break from the shop to unwind for their weekend together. Max would be out all day bidding new jobs for the springtime as his crew continued at her store. She got up, put on some music, and took a long, simmering bath to soothe her achy body and her mind, which had been working overtime. The morning was dreary and overcast. She already had candles blazing, flickering on the cream walls and marble pillars surrounding the sunken tub. Romantic music and perfumed bath oil permeated the air as she sipped on a mimosa and floated amid the bubbles.
She closed her eyes in a feeble attempt to stop the thoughts of Deacon as they drifted in. The pain he brought still lingered, as did her love for him. She fought back tears as she downed her mimosa and refilled the flute from the champagne bottle she’d placed beside the tub. She shook him off with thoughts of Max. She began scheming of how to surprise him on Valentine’s Day. Since they were already going out on Saturday, she planned to cook dinner at home on Tuesday night and come up with an interesting surprise for his dessert. She emerged from the tub and toweled off as she watched herself in the mirror. She decided to crawl back into bed, feeling peaceful in the tranquility of the room, and she drifted back to sleep.
A lover appeared in her dreams, but his identity was hazy. He took her from behind, kissing her neck as she felt her body go completely limp. He made love to her with his hands, his mouth, and then his body. He brought her emotions to their highest point and left her passions wild. He penetrated her deeply while her mind searched for something to hang on to, but there was nothing. Just puffs of smoke on a cold winter’s day. Her fantasy disappeared with the sunlight.
She awoke again in the late morning hour to a wet bed. She reached for her toys in the nightstand and brought herself to climax.
She heard the intercom. There was a delivery at the gate. She jumped from her bed, somewhat startled as she threw on her robe and raced down the stairs.
“Flower delivery for Ms. Shelby,” the man stated.
She pushed the button to allow access to the circle drive as she grabbed her purse. She pulled her robe tie tightly as she humbly greeted him at the door, digging for a few dollars to tip him. He took the gratuity and smiled as he handed her the vase bursting with a bouquet of two dozen red roses. A heart-shaped card dangled down the side by a red ribbon. She shut the door behind him and closed the gates as he exited. She placed the flowers on the table and flipped the card around, which simply read, THINKING OF YOU, LOVE, MAX.
He had personally signed the card, which meant he took the time to personally stop in at the flower shop and make the arrangements. She fondled the tiny card, tracing the contours with her finger, pondering for a moment about the shape of a valentine heart. She smiled as she th
ought, Love isn’t perfect, because if it was, this would just be a circle. But like a heart shape, love has its high points and its lows. Max’s sensitivity softened her heart. She called his cell phone to thank him, but she got his voicemail. She knew he was busy meeting with potential clients, so she left him a sexy message.
She got dressed, freshened up, and headed out to the store for groceries. Back at home, she put away her purchases, lit a fire, and curled up with a good book. She had to restrain herself from logging on to the laptop in search of more antique treasures. She could lose herself all day on there and she really needed to take a break. Max called to let her know he was on his way back to the area, but he had a long drive ahead of him. He had bid on several potential jobs that would be enough to keep him busy all year if the contracts were awarded to his firm.
She invited him to join her, saying that she had picked up an assortment of brochettes from the butcher to grill for a quick and easy dinner. He was starving and couldn’t wait to see her. She put the skewers into a tangy marinade with lots of spices, then slipped into some silky pajamas and lounged on the sofa to watch TV as she waited for him.
When he finally arrived at the château, she realized how much she’d missed him. Even though he was usually working at the store while she was preoccupied with orders and research, they were always together and it felt strange to have been apart.
“Thank you again for the beautiful roses,” she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. He hugged her, picking her up right off the floor as she wrapped her body around his. Their lips never parted as he carried her upstairs to the bathroom where they stripped down and indulged in a sizzling shower together.
Afterward, they dried off and slipped back into cozy pajamas to cook dinner. Max bundled up to grill the brochettes on the back deck while London slipped a loaf of French bread into the oven and opened a bottle of wine. She lit the candles on the dining room table and turned down the lights.
They sat at one end of the table together, their legs intertwining as they sipped their wine and chatted about his day. London sliced the bread and buttered it, then held a piece in front of his mouth. He smiled as he took a bite, licking the melting butter from her hand and nibbling at her fingers. He pulled a succulent chunk of beef from his skewer, smirking at her, and touched it to her lips. She licked it, then bit into it, tearing off a piece with a wild look in her eyes. They continued serving each other back and forth, the intensity growing between them. He was ready for round two before the food was even gone. He carried her over to the Persian rug in front of the fire and ravaged her wildly, exploring every curve and groove of her body with his tongue. She moaned in ecstasy, begging him to take her. He turned her over on her knees and took her from behind, one hand on her hip and the other tangled in her hair to hold her in place as he rode her hard, and she climaxed, screaming through multiple orgasms. They collapsed in the firelight for a while before finally finding their way up to the bedroom.
In the morning, they slept in late together. Max was due to be at the shop to check on the crew’s progress, but he was in no hurry. He said he would also stop by his place to pick up his tux for their dinner date. “I have a special surprise for you tonight. I’ll pick you up about seven o’clock for dinner,” then he slipped away before she could drill him with questions about his plans. She went upstairs to select her attire for the evening and was shocked to find a beautiful corset on the bed. It was pink silk with black lace trim and pink ribbons woven through the garment and tied into a bow. Beside the corset, he’d left a note, CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU WEARING ONLY THIS AFTER DINNER TONIGHT.
She didn’t know where he was taking her for dinner. He would only tell her that it was five-star and formal. She retrieved an elegant black lace evening gown she had never worn from the back of her walk-in closet. She slipped into the corset and tried the gown on over it. She looked like royalty as she spun around, holding her hair up to show off her enticing neck. She hung up both garments, quickly threw on a casual black outfit, and raced off to the spa to be pampered for the day. She wanted a stunning French manicure and her hair done in an elegant updo to complement the gown.
On her way back from the spa, feeling invigorated, she grabbed a quick lunch with Jon and filled him in on the progress at the store and her Valentine’s Day plans. Jon was delighted to inform London that he and Christopher had become exclusive since last month when they had met with her. She was thrilled to see him settling down and seeming so contented.
As she drove home, she passed the store and saw Max’s truck out front, but refrained from stopping in, as she knew she would get caught up with work. She wanted to focus on their romantic evening together. She raced home and took a short nap, sitting up slightly and resting carefully so as not to disturb her hairstyle. It was tough to sleep in the upright position and her mind was racing with thoughts of the store, Max, and dinner. She loved the fact that he was so secretive and wanted to surprise her, but the curiosity was killing her. She drifted away briefly and dreamed of the hidden passageways in the palace again. Each time she revisited the dream, she explored new rooms and discovered amazing treasures that filled her with wondrous intrigue.
She awoke feeling pleasantly relaxed and refreshed. She flicked on the TV for the weather report while she brewed a cup of coffee. She gazed out the window into the sunset and was glad that the weather would be calm and mild for the evening. It was still snowy and chilly, but nothing new was expected to fall for at least a few days.
She slipped into her new, luxurious lingerie, and her royal full-length black velvet gown with a sweetheart neckline, and one dangling diamond necklace that filled in the opening. She spun and danced around before the full-length mirror, admiring the work of art the hairstylist had created. The chignon swept up gracefully with just a few wispy strands escaping that were softly curled into cascading spirals. She added a few finishing touches to her makeup and checked the time. It was 6:45. Her excitement grew as the minutes ticked away. She retrieved a chic pair of sparkling stilettos, opera gloves, and a matching handbag to complement her gown, along with a faux-mink stole to drape over her shoulders. She looked simply divine as she floated down the staircase.
She looked out the window and opened the gates as she saw headlights approaching. To her surprise, a stretch limousine entered the drive and circled around to the front door. She watched as the chauffeur came out to open the door for Max. He stepped out, adjusting his tie and looking debonair. He strolled up to the door as she opened it. They gasped together and smiled as they looked each other up and down.
“Thank you for the lovely corset,” she said as she extended her hand.
“You’re welcome, darling. And I must say, you are simply breathtaking this evening,” Max replied as he took her hand, kissing it gently and eyeing her as if he could see right through her clothing.
“A limo, Max? You really didn’t have to.”
“I want you to feel like the royal queen that you are. Your chariot awaits, my dear,” he said as they made their way down the walkway. The chauffeur stood rigid like a British soldier, then leaned over with his white glove to open the door for London.
“Madam,” he said with a nod.
“Thank you, sir,” she responded as she eased into the seat.
She put up the privacy window as they drove to the restaurant. She eased her gown up slightly, causing the side slit to fall open, revealing her silky black thigh-highs. He studied her as she caressed his thigh. He popped the cork off a bottle of expensive champagne and poured a glass for each of them. She sipped at the bubbly, then leaned over to kiss him, the sweetness of the aphrodisiac moist on her lips. He returned her kiss and held her close.
“You’ll have to save that energy a little longer, London,” he said as he flashed her a devious smile. She pouted slightly for a moment as he laughed at her.
“So where are we going tonight?” she asked with impatience and anticipation as she gulped her champagn
e, trying to stifle her urge to attack Max right there in the backseat. He looked delicious.
“It’s a surprise, but we’re almost there,” he reassured her.
She peered through the darkness, trying to figure out where their path was leading, but the view was primarily obscured by numerous mature trees that lined the roadway. After only a few minutes, the driver soon turned and followed the pathway leading up to the Manor Hotel & Spa, a majestic estate situated on one of the highest elevations in Tarrytown.
London’s eyes gleamed as she caught her first glimpse of the grandiose architecture, and Max squeezed her hand in his as he studied her childlike reaction. Although the Manor was close to her château, London had never visited it, and she now wondered why she hadn’t. The spectacular fortress was illuminated and she was captivated by its magnificence.
“I thought gallantry would be proper for an exquisite dining experience for my queen this evening,” Max said.
“Oh, Max, it’s beautiful! Thank you,” London exclaimed, radiating amazement and overwhelmed with infatuation.
They had a view of the Hudson River Valley and the Manhattan skyline. They were led into the dining room where they were seated at their candlelit table by a stone fireplace. London admired the beauty and charm of the neoclassical style as they settled in by the cozy fire crackling beside them. Max ordered wine and then reached across the table to hold London’s hand.