“Some tea, please, Peter,” he asked. Then he turned back to Tina and said, “Come with me, please,” and walked away, hoping she would follow.
In the living room, he invited her to take a seat, and when she did he settled his big body in the large armchair by the fireplace, where a roaring fire was spilling welcome warmth into the room.
“Will you answer one question for me before I answer yours?” he began.
She nodded, twisting her hands together in her lap. She had chosen to sit in the love seat on the other side of the fireplace, and had drawn her feet up under her. She looked poised and elegant, and as cool and remote as the mountains outside the chalet windows.
“If you were not leaving, would you be willing to see where a friendship between us could go?” He watched her struggle with how to answer him, and he added, “I would prefer an honest answer rather than a diplomatic one.”
Still she hesitated, but Max had learned patience very early on in his life. He waited. Finally, she rewarded him.
“Yes.”
“You do not appear to be at all enthusiastic about the prospect. Am I so objectionable?”
She glanced at him briefly then, before returning her gaze to the flames dancing in the grate. “It’s not that, Max.”
“Then what is it? You have turned a simple invitation to dinner into an invitation to a life together. Have you no desire to find a life partner? And if you do, would I be so far below your standards that you would need to keep a distance between us?”
She stood up as Peter arrived with the tea on a tray. She walked away, while the butler poured the tea, and once he departed, Max rose as well and went to where she was standing by the picture window.
“I didn’t mean to distress you, Tina, but I am trying to understand your reluctance to even acknowledge that there is something set off between us.”
She turned, apparently unaware of how close to her he was standing, and almost bumped into him. She gasped as though he had touched her, and the evidence of her attraction only served to fire his own desire. He wanted so desperately to reach out and touch her, but he clenched his fists to stop the action. He was not the sort of man to force a woman’s attention. He would keep waiting until she answered him.
“I wasn’t raised to act on impulse, and my experiences have shown that to act on interest alone is usually disastrous. Chemistry wanes, Max. People need more than sexual attraction to make meaningful relationships.”
His groin tightened at her words, and he adjusted his stance to ease the sudden pressure in his jeans. She had just admitted that she wanted him, even if she wasn’t aware that she had, and it was all the admission he needed.
“I have not asked you to share my bed, Tina,” he teased, relaxing his muscles in relief. “I have only asked you to share a meal with me. Where that meal will lead is anybody’s guess, but I hardly think it will end in either of our beds, do you? As you said, these things take time. Before I make love to you, I would need to find out more about what pleases you. And I have learned that the game of discovery is wonderful foreplay.”
She blushed, and he relaxed even more. “Come and have some tea,” he said, and led her back to her seat, handing her a cup and saucer. He took a sip from his own cup as he sat down, and then said, “I am willing to see where our dinner date takes us. I won’t worry about what happens after that until I have to. And that includes what will happen when we must part. So, will you have dinner with me this evening?”
She sighed, and Max chuckled. He could tell that she hated giving in.
“As long as you don’t have any expectations, then fine.”
“I expect to have a good time,” he told her. “I expect to be enchanted by intelligent conversation with you. I expect to be amused by your wit and humor. Is that too much?”
“No pressure at all!” she replied, glaring at him.
“These are things you already do, Tina, so yes, there is no pressure at all.” He smirked at her and sipped his tea.
After a few quiet moments, she resumed their earlier conversation. “Do you really believe the things you read in romance novels, Max?”
He eyed her sharply. “Don’t you?”
“Max, at best they are a pleasant fantasy! Nobody believes them!”
Max shook his head. How could she not see the contradiction in her words? She wrote stories about a love she didn’t believe was possible? What a waste of energy, of passion, of heart.
“Why don’t you?” he asked. He really wanted to know, as much as he wanted her to change her mind.
“I’ve been given no reason to believe otherwise,” she answered, sighing again.
He’d have to find a way to make her see that she was wrong. Maybe not everyone fell in love at first sight. In fact, he was sure most people didn’t, but some people knew they had met the person they wanted to share their lives with immediately, or very soon thereafter. His own parents had had a love like that. And he finally admitted that that was what he really wanted…to feel a connection with someone that said ‘forever’ without any doubt. It was what he thought he might find with the woman who was once again avoiding his eyes.
After a light lunch, Tina excused herself to rest before dinner, and Max made a few calls, including one to his aunt. She wanted to know when he was coming back to visit before he went home. They made arrangements for the day after tomorrow, and after he hung up, he called his father. Things were going well enough at home, though he could tell his father missed him. Perhaps he would return home immediately after his visit with his aunt. He didn’t want to be too long away, in case the older man became worse.
Eventually, he took himself off to shower and change for dinner. Peter had laid out his clothes already, and once he stepped out of the shower, letting the air dry his body the way he liked it best, he dressed quickly, trying to keep his anticipation controlled. He hadn’t been this excited about a dinner engagement with a woman for a very long time, and he intended to make this evening the best Tina had had until the next time he could take her out. He had been thinking about how to keep their connection alive, and he would discuss the ideas he had with her at dinner.
He walked quietly to Tina’s door, raising a hand to knock when she opened it as though she had been listening for his footsteps. He blinked at the sight that met his gaze. She was wearing black palazzo pants and a black-and-red high-necked silk top with long flared sleeves. She wore cute stiletto-heeled ankle boots, her ears and neck and wrists adorned in black and red stones, and her hair was swept up off her neck, a red and black clip holding it in place. She was breathtaking.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathed out, unable to keep it from her.
She colored up prettily. “Thank you, Max. You look pretty dashing yourself.”
He smiled at her words, helped her on with her long, black, fur-lined cloak, and extended his elbow. “Shall we go?”
Peter drove them to one of Max’s favorite restaurants, where he was well known but would be safe from inquisitive eyes and ears. Inside, the maître d’ greeted him warmly and seated them immediately in a secluded alcove. As they were sitting, Tina asked,
“Where’s Peter?”
“His friend is the chef here, so he’s off to visit with him.”
“He’s a very kind man,” she said. “Have you known him long?”
“All my life,” he answered truthfully. “And yes, Peter is one of the kindest men I know.”
Max left the choice of wine up to his host, and once their food orders were placed, he sat forward to take in his fill of his dinner guest. The muted lighting cast her face in soft shadows, but he could still see the glow of her eyes as she smiled at the waiter who brought their drinks just then, leaving the wine bottle in the cooler at his elbow.
“This is a very swanky place,” she said. “I’m not surprised, though, since you’re an ambassador and all. Only the best for you.”
Max felt a twinge of regret for starting the white lie that she now held
as gospel. He would tell her before she left who he was, because then he could ask her to his coronation free and clear. In the meantime, he intended to enjoy every second of their time alone.
“So, did you enjoy your first snowmobile ride this morning?"
He could still feel the way she had gripped him in trepidation this morning, and how, once she relaxed, the warmth of her hands resting lightly on his waist had sent his body into active mode.
“Yes, I did, thank you. One thing off my bucket list.”
He found her amusing. “Was it really an item on that list?”
“Would it surprise you if I said it was?” she countered.
“Frankly, yes.”
She reached across the table to smack him on his hands which he had clasped on the table in front of him. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not making fun of you. I’m merely enjoying you.” He caught her hand before she snatched it away and kissed the knuckles, enjoying the quiet simmering feeling that it raised, along with the goosebumps, up his arms. “So tell me what else is on this bucket list of yours.”
“Honestly, at this point I have very few things on it. Most of them are just regular life goals for other people.” She seemed reluctant to name them. He was intrigued.
“My mother, God rest her soul, always taught me never to compare myself with others. One of her favorite poems was ‘Desiderata’, and she often quoted from it to me when I seemed to need emotional or spiritual direction.” He squeezed her hand, reluctantly releasing it when she tugged gently on it. “Tell me what you want to do before you die.”
“I want children.” She glanced at him, a look of near panic in her eyes as though as she hadn’t meant to blurt out that one, and then looked away. “I want to visit Italy, especially Tuscany, and The Netherlands. I want a house by the sea.” She paused, and then chuckled self-consciously.
“What?”
“You’re going to find this one very funny.” She thought about it for a heartbeat, then ended, shaking her head, “It’s really childish. Never mind.”
“Tina, tell me, please. I promise I won’t laugh. Tell me.” He wanted to know now what this item was that made her cheeks warm with color, and made her studiously avoid his eyes.
“When I was a very little girl, Cinderella was my favorite story. I used to dream of finding my own Prince Charming.” She stopped again.
“Is that on your bucket list?”
“It’s the last thing on the list…to meet a prince. I don’t imagine he’ll be mine. Those kinds of men don’t live in my world. But it would be nice to meet one. Still, I’ve adjusted the dream to be either a real prince, or a prince of music or drama or art. In other words, I’ve whittled it down to meeting a famous person.”
She laughed at herself, and Max knew he couldn’t wait to invite her any longer. This was the opening he had wanted. He could tell her who he was after.
“What if I told you I could help you with that particular item on your list?”
She eyed him dubiously. “I suppose you could, given your job.”
“There is to be a coronation in a few weeks’ time at which a sovereign prince will take over the reins of his country. I’m inviting you to attend it with me as my guest.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you serious?” She blinked when Max remained silent. “Oh my God! You’re serious!”
He fought to keep the smile off his face. “Yes, I am perfectly serious. So will you be my guest?”
“I’ll have to check my calendar. I have an event coming up in a few weeks. When exactly is it?”
“December 20th.”
“I’ll let you know as soon as we get back to the chalet.” She looked him in the eye with a smile on her face. “Thank you, Max. You’ve been nothing but generous to me since we met. I truly appreciate it.”
“It is my pleasure, Tina.”
Dinner was a delight, as always, but Max spent more time watching the way she savored each dish that she was served than he spent eating. She had more than she did at dinner the day before, but still not enough, in his opinion. However, it pleased him that she had relaxed enough to enjoy the meal. They talked freely about their interests, laughing at some of the quirkier ones.
“So, you’re an artist.” Her smile heated him inside.
“I dabble. Mostly pencil sketches and charcoal. It’s very calming, particularly when my work is most stressful.”
“Mmhmm…I can understand that. When I’m feeling most stressed, I just go for a walk. Or sometimes, I go for a drive and then a walk. Nothing creative there, I’m afraid. I guess it’s just me trying to escape the pressure cooker for a while. Walking away does that for me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your way,” he said. “If anything, it is also physically refreshing. And you might meet people who will enrich your escape.”
She smiled again, and Max returned it warmly. “I didn’t think of it that way. But you know, you’re right…once in a while I meet someone, usually walking a dog, and the encounter results in a character for a story, or in a plot situation. I just never thought of it in terms of enrichment.”
Max wanted to hold her hand again. He wanted to feel her pulse under his fingers as he told her, “Everything that happens to us in our lives can be an enriching experience if we will let it be.”
“Very deep, Mr. Ambassador,” she teased, though he could tell she was more serious than she wanted to appear.
“Why do you keep trying to distance yourself from me?” he asked, suddenly impatient. He wanted to move forward, and she was stalling.
“What do you mean?”
He sighed. “I didn’t take you for a coward, Tina,” he said. “I mean your insistence on calling me by a title that means nothing in what is happening between us.”
She looked away, and then put more food in her mouth. Max swallowed the rising need to reach across the table and pull her to him for a kiss. He wanted to taste her plump and rosy lips, to suck on them, to hear how she would respond to such blatant seduction. Instead, he watched her wash down the food she had just swallowed with another gulp of wine.
“It’s not deliberate,” she said at last. “Protecting myself is like breathing to me.”
He stared at her, willing her to look him in the eye. “Do you see me as a threat to you, prinsesa?”
She looked at him then, frowning in anger. “I’ve already asked you once not to make fun of me.” Her voice was cold, to mask the hurt, and Max wished he knew how to keep her unwound.
“I will never make fun of your dreams, Tina,” he said. “It is merely a term of endearment, one that I knew you would understand without it needing to be translated for you.” He let that sink in before continuing, “But you haven’t answered my question. Do you feel threatened by me?”
“Max, you know that’s not what I mean,” she said impatiently.
“Then what do you mean?” He wouldn’t let her escape. She had to confess to her feelings. Then they could move ahead.
“I…You unsettle me. I don’t like feeling vulnerable, and you make me feel defenseless. I will never again be that person.”
She inhaled deeply, as though gathering her resolve around her. Max let it go. He could wait to revisit the thing that had made her feel she had to protect herself from anyone who wanted to get close to her. They finished the meal without any further personal talk, and by the time he was leading her out of the restaurant, she seemed to have relaxed again.
The night sky was a brilliant canvas of moonlight and starlight. He drew in a deep breath of the crisp air, and Tina’s scent chased the cold air into his nostrils. He inhaled again, this time to breathe her in. She smelled deliciously of whatever scent she had put on earlier and of warm woman. He put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer to his body, telling himself it was to keep her warm, because she shivered when he touched her. The long black cloak she wore was probably not enough, he reasoned. He led her into the waiting SUV, glad that Peter had gone out
ahead of them to warm it thoroughly.
“Take us for a ride before heading back, please Peter?”
“As you wish, sir.”
Max watched the lights of the village give way to the darkness of farmland and fields. He could feel the tension of awareness growing in the space between Tina and himself, and before long, he reached across and pulled her over to nestle against his side.
“I hope you don’t mind that I need to keep you close,” he said in a low voice only she could hear. “It keeps me warm.”
Seduced by the Prince Page 9