Running from Romeo

by Diane Mannino

  “That’s not necessary. We have a staff here that looks after the house.”

  “A staff?” I ask.

  “Well, Mr. and Mrs. Smith. They live in the guesthouse. How about another glass of wine?”

  “Yes, please.” He refills both of our glasses.

  “What would you like to do now?” He whispers as he takes my hand in his and softly brushes his lips against the top of it.

  “Talk?” I murmur as I take another sip of wine.

  “Talk?” He raises his eyebrows.

  “Is that okay or would you rather me go?” I murmur.

  “Why don’t we move to the living room?” He chuckles.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask because I have a feeling he’s laughing at me.

  “You are amusing and entertaining as ever.” He smiles.

  “You’ve lost me.” I grumble and look away from his intense gaze.

  “I’m sorry.” He says as he pulls me into his arms. “I’m being rude. You are quite a lovely diversion.”

  I look up into his eyes. The wine is making me feel brave. I wrap my arms around his muscular shoulders pulling him closer to me. His lips are on mine and I moan into his intoxicating mouth. The kiss is passionate and I know I need to stop it. I slowly push away from him and glance up at his burning gaze.

  He takes a deep breath and then leads me towards the living room, carrying a bottle of wine under his arm. “Come. Let’s talk.”

  We move towards a huge pale beige colored couch and sink into its fluffy down-filled cushions. The room is massive but the warm, decorative colors and the sound of the ocean waves in the distance make it soothing and peaceful.

  Logan places the bottle of wine on the large rustic coffee table. Then he sits and props his feet up on table. His body is at an angle so that he’s facing me and his arm rests on the back of the sofa. I slip off my black ballet flats and curl up my legs beneath me. We are sitting close, facing one another.

  “How about this weather?” He says as he takes a sip of wine.

  “I take it you’re not in the mood to talk?” I murmur.

  “I’ve been known to make girls fall asleep so – not so much, never really had to.”

  “Because you are so irresistible to girls?” I tease.

  “Apparently.” He raises his eyebrows.

  “Just one look from you and they just – swoon.” Maybe I should stop drinking the wine. It’s making me become increasingly audacious.

  “Swoon? How very Shakespearean of you.” He smirks.

  “They swoon and then you sleep together?” I whisper.

  “I don’t know if sleep is the right word.” He gives me a wicked grin.

  I swig my wine until I empty my glass as I ponder his words. “You are used to getting what you want, who you want, when you want?”

  “Um – Something like that. More wine?” He asks.

  “Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr. Prescott?” I tease.

  He refills my glass and says, “Maybe.”

  “Maybe I should go.” I say quietly.

  “No. Please don’t. I’ll be a gentleman if that’s what you want. I’m just not used to this.” He sighs.

  “I’m not used to this either.” I squirm and shuffle my feet to the side.

  “I don’t understand.” He asks and his voice is tender.

  “You know.” I shrug.

  “No. I don’t.” He blinks a couple times and looks lost in thought. “Well, you’ve slept with a guy before, right?”

  I take another gulp of wine. “Um – well – yes, now you are using the right word. I’ve slept with – just haven’t had sex with another guy.”

  “You’ve never had sex?” He whispers and his eyes are alight with curiosity.

  I squirm under his intense gaze. “Um. No.”

  “I find that hard to believe. You’re gorgeous.” He raises an eyebrow.

  “You think I’d lie?” I blink rapidly. I rise and snap, “I think I should leave.”

  He reaches for my hand. “Emilia. I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. Please, sit.”

  Nervously, I sit back down. “I’ve always focused on my studies and I’ve never been interested in anyone that way and…”

  “I believe you.” He says. I stare at him and wonder if he’s irritated.

  “Are you annoyed?” I ask.

  “Of course not.” His voice is soft.

  “You sure you don’t want me to leave?”

  “Why would I want you to leave?”

  I shrug. “You probably were hoping this night would end differently?” I swallow.

  “Emilia, you took my breath away the first time I laid my eyes on you.” He slides closer to me on the couch so that we are enticingly close. I took his breath away?

  My heart is pounding and I have an overwhelming feeling of butterflies in my stomach. “Maybe this shouldn’t happen?”

  “Us?” He swallows. “I think we should try.”

  “You’d be willing to take it slow?” I whisper.

  He smiles. “Go wisely and slowly. Those who rush stumble and fall.”

  I recognize the quote from “Romeo and Juliet.” Friar Laurence says it to Romeo. It’s a warning to move slowly or tread carefully. Those who run fast and aren’t careful are more likely to stumble.

  I’m grinning like a fool. “Romeo and Juliet. You never cease to amaze me.”

  He laughs.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask.

  “Amazing – that’s a big step up from cocky and spoiled.” He smirks.

  “You are still those other things but you can add amazing to the list.”

  “You forgot one.” He smiles.

  My brow furrows. Then a light bulb goes off in my head. “Oh, yes. I forgot perverted is on the top of your list.” I giggle.

  “May I remind you that I’m in good company?” He teases.

  “How are you so well-versed in Shakespeare?” I ask.

  “When I was little I read whatever I could get my hands onto – that included Shakespeare. Reading was an escape for me – a way to surrender to complete ignorance. Ignorance is bliss.” I can’t help but think of Logan as a lonely boy.

  “I feel the same way.” I smile. I could sit here for days and get lost in the ocean that is his blue eyes. But I have the urgent need to relieve my bladder.

  “Where’s the bathroom?” I ask.

  “It’s just down the hall on the right.” He says as he points. “It’s getting late and we’ve both had too much wine. Are you okay with staying the night?” He says in a matter of fact tone.

  I blink at him. “Um. Sure.” I better text Bryn.

  I grab my purse and head to the bathroom. It is late. I push my phone on and I find it’s almost one in the morning. I already have two texts from Bryn. I quickly reply.

 

 

 

 

  Bryn is going to freak out. Before I switch off my phone I add one more text.

 

  Well, at least I texted her. She has to give me that, right? And she is a big advocate of no drinking and driving. I quickly switch off my phone and finish going to the bathroom.

  When I head out of the bathroom, Logan is waiting for me in the kitchen. He’s sipping a large glass of iced water.

  “Would you like some?” He asks as he hands me his glass.

  “Please.” The water is cool and crisp.

  He refills the glass under a filtered tap at the sink. Then he moves around the large island and takes my hand.

  “Come.” He whispers as he leads me through the house. We walk up the winding staircase.

  The bedroom is spacious with a large open-beamed-ceiling. The only light comes from the full moon that glows above the ocean. The light from the moon reflects in the water and looks like a luminescent pathway.

  “Would you like me to turn on a light?” He asks as he p
laces the glass of water on a marble coaster on a side table.

  “No. The moonlight is wonderful. Do you mind keeping the drapes open?” I say softly.

  “Of course.” He says as he opens the top drawer of a white-stained Farmhouse style dresser. “Here’s a t-shirt and some boxers. There’s plenty of bathroom supplies. Help yourself.” He smiles.

  I grab the shirt and boxers and move towards the bathroom. The bathroom, like everything else in the house, is massive. There’s a luxurious tub with a crystal chandelier that hangs above it. The beautiful tub sits under a large window that looks out to the sea. In the corner is a huge frameless glass shower with ceramic tile that’s in a neutral array of colors.

  Towards the right of the tub there’s a sitting area with two linen cream-colored chairs and a small table between them. On the right of the tub is another large room that looks like it leads to a gigantic walk-in closet. On the opposite wall is a large pair of vanities with marble countertops.

  I shut the door and nervously slip off my jeans and panties then place them on one of the linen-covered chairs in the sitting area. I pull my sweater over my head and wiggle out of my camisole and bra then add those to the pile on the chair. Once I tug on the Calvin Klein ribbed boxer shorts and slide on the t-shirt, I move towards one of the vanities.

  There’s a small wicker basket filled with several hairbrushes, combs, toothbrushes, toothpaste, floss, soap and lotions. I tear open one of the toothbrushes and squirt some toothpaste on it. I quickly brush my teeth and then head back into the bedroom

  Logan is already in the large white canopy bed when I enter the room. The French doors that are parallel to the bed are open. My heart is pounding so loudly I wonder if he can hear it above the lull of the crashing ocean waves.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I opened the doors. I like hearing the sound of the ocean.” He smiles.

  I walk towards the bed. “No. It’s lovely.”

  He shifts his body and tugs the fluffy white duvet so that I can see that he’s only wearing boxer shorts. “Come to bed.”

  I raise my eyebrows at him and he quickly adds, “I promise I’ll behave.”

  I climb into bed, trying not to over think my awkwardness. We are facing each other as we lay on our sides. His elbow is propped up on the pillow while his face rests in his hand.

  “You okay?” He whispers.

  “I’m a bit nervous.” I murmur.

  “I can tell. Why don’t we talk? That seems to help you relax – that and wine.” He smiles.

  “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

  “You like all types of food?” He asks and his lips quirk up in a smile.

  “Pretty much. My favorite is Italian and I love seafood.” I smile. “How about you?”

  “I like those. Do you like sushi?” He murmurs and rests his head on the pillow.

  “Sushi is good but I’m not too adventurous with it. I stick mostly to the rolls.” I say.

  “I know a great place to get Thai food.” He smiles.

  “I don’t like Thai. I’m not crazy about that peanut sauce – it’s too overpowering and that’s all I taste.”

  “So I won’t take you to a Thai restaurant.” He laughs.

  “You just like Shakespeare?” He asks.

  “Oh no. Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters are my favorite British authors. Tennessee Williams and F. Scott Fitzgerald are my two favorite American authors. But Shakespeare is at the top of my list. You?”

  “Steinbeck, Faulkner, and Twain are at the top of my list for American literature. Dickens and Shakespeare are my favorite for British lit.” He stretches and wraps his arms around me.

  “What’s your favorite play by Shakespeare?” I ask. He’s right the talking is making me feel at ease. I’m surprised how comfortable it feels to be in his arms.

  “Romeo and Juliet, of course.” He smiles

  I giggle. “Tell me the truth – not what you think I want to hear.”

  “Hamlet and Macbeth.” He says quietly and yawns.

  “Was that a yawn?” I tease. “I think I’m putting you to sleep now.”

  “Hmm.” He kisses me softly on the cheek. “G’night, baby.” He whispers and I feel him inhale deeply.

  I am sleeping with Logan Prescott and I can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of comfort being wrapped up in his arms.

  10

  MY EYES OPEN to the blazing sunshine streaming through the open French doors and the surrounding windows. The room is blindingly bright because all of the drapes are open. The view from the bed is truly stunning since it overlooks the ocean. I can see the horizon in the distance.

  The room looks different now then it did last night. I can truly appreciate the beauty and serenity of it. The canopy bed and most of the surrounding furniture is white. The walls are painted a very pale blue and there are two chairs in a sitting area that share the same shade of blue. On the opposite side of the sitting area there are large, white bookshelves crammed with books. In the middle, against the wall, is a sofa in the same shade of blue. On the wall behind the headboard hangs a large, square-shaped painting of the coast.

  I wonder how anyone gets out of bed when waking up to this every day. Then I glance over at Logan and that same thought crosses my mind – another stunning view. He’s still sleeping and I can feel his shallow breaths rising up and down against the side of my body. He’s pressed against me, holding me close.

  I’m lost in thought, reflecting on my peaceful night’s sleep when Logan tentatively stirs beside me. He blinks his eyes open. “Morning.” He mutters. He looks at me and smiles that slow, sexy smile that makes my insides melt.

  “Good morning.” I say.

  “You are just as beautiful in the morning.” He says as he rubs his eyes. “Wow, is it bright in here.”

  “Sleep well?” I ask.

  “Surprisingly I did – really well. You?” He says as he pulls me closer to him.

  “Me too.” I glance at the clock on the nightstand. “I have to get up. It’s already eight o’clock and I have to work today.”

  “You feel hot. I think you might have a fever.” He wickedly grins.

  “Are you suggesting I call in sick?” I tease.

  “You are hot that’s a fact.” He laughs. “What time do you have to be at work?”

  “Ten.”

  He caresses my cheek with his hand and kisses me softly on the lips. When he rolls out of bed I witness my third stunning view of the morning. A shirtless Logan is quite a sight to behold. He is extremely fit with toned arms, broad shoulders and strong abs.

  “You are hot, too” I giggle.

  “Enjoying the view?” He smirks.

  “Yes. All of them.” I smile.

  “We could stay and you could enjoy all of the views all day.” His lips curl up into that sexy smile.

  “Tempting.” I say as I clamber out if bed. “But I can’t do that to the Suttons on a Saturday.”

  “The Suttons?” He says as he pulls on his t-shirt and jeans from last night.

  “The owners – my bosses. They are like family to me.” I smile.

  “Sounds like I can’t convince you. I’ll go put some coffee on. Meet you downstairs.” He leans forward and kisses me quickly on the forehead.

  I hurry into the bathroom and slide off Logan’s boxers and t-shirt. I pull on my panties and shuffle into my jeans. Then I throw on my bra, camisole and sweater. There’s a sea-grass hamper in the corner of the sitting area so I toss Logan’s tee and briefs in it.

  Before I head downstairs, I look in the mirror. I’m surprised to see how well rested I look. It’s the first time in ages that my eyes are bright and clear. Sleeping with Logan has its advantages.

  The bathroom is pleasingly stocked with all the essentials. I spot a hair tie in the bin of supplies and quickly pull my hair up into a high ponytail. As I stare at my reflection in the mirror I can’t help but think I look differently. I look and feel fully rested and I spent the night
in Logan Prescott’s arms. We didn’t have sex. We only talked and cuddled. Certainly, he would have preferred to have sex, but he said he was willing to take things slow –wisely and slowly. I smile and then hurry downstairs.

  The kitchen is even lovelier in the daylight. Sunlight pours through the windows giving the room a shimmery glow. Logan is leaning against the counter, sipping a mug of coffee. He looks up and smiles.

  “Coffee – black.” He says as he pours me a mug and then hands it to me. He remembers how I like my coffee.

  “Thanks.” I smile.

  “Can I make you an omelet or something?” He asks.

  “I’m not a big breakfast eater.”

  “Well, I’m not driving you home until you eat something.” He says as he pulls out one of the barstools. “Come, sit.”

  “You certainly know how to spoil a girl.” I tease.

  “Not my usual style.” He frowns, slightly. “So what will it be?”

  “Um. Yogurt if you have it.”

  He moves across the kitchen and opens the refrigerator. “You’re in luck – plain, peach, strawberry, blueberry or vanilla.”

  “Jeez this house is well stocked. Vanilla, please.”

  “Vanilla. Interesting choice.” He smirks. Why is that interesting?

  He hands me the yogurt and a spoon then places a carton of eggs on the counter. “I’m going to have an omelet. You sure I can’t make you one?”

  “No, thanks. The yogurt is perfect.” I glance up at him as I sweep my tongue around the spoon.

  “You trying to distract me? If we are going to take things slow – you can’t lick your spoon like that.” He says as he quickly cracks the eggs and begins to whisk them in a small stainless bowl.

  “I didn’t realize.” I say and I blush.

  He smiles and asks, “What else do you have planned for your day?”

  I take another bite, carefully. “Work. Run. I’m not sure about tonight. I have a big meet on Sunday so nothing too crazy. You?”

  He places the omelet on a white porcelain plate and then sits down beside me.

  “Not sure. I was hoping to spend the day here with you.”

  I smile. “Some of us have to work for a living, Mr. Prescott.”

  He takes a bite of his omelet. “I can’t imagine why.”