by Ashlee Price
“Maybe we should stay behind and just let me look at you,” he teased, kissing me solidly on the mouth and roping his arm over my shoulder as he escorted me out the back of the building to where his car waited.
I was pleased with his reaction and could feel the now familiar gush between my legs at his masculine appreciation.
The weather was perfect for our outing and the sun skipped in diamonds over the waves of Lake Michigan. Much of the area was private, and that made it difficult to see or get close to the water.
“I’ve spoken to an agent who’s waiting for us,” he mentioned as he reached over and patted my thigh. “I thought we’d stop for some lunch and then meet her.”
I nodded and smiled, grabbing my hair in a handful and lowering the window so the wind snapped around us. I felt vibrant, alive, and I adored the smell of the water, even from the distance of the roadway. I closed my eyes and took a mental snapshot of all the sensual input. I wanted to remember this day forever.
Dagger pulled into a small but touristy town on the water. He took me by the hand and we found a table on the waterside deck of The Anchor Inn. A youngish woman emerged from inside with glasses of water and a basket of salted peanuts for us to munch on while we waited for huge BLTs on homemade bread and a side order of their legendary pickle slaw. The other guests were relaxed and laughing around us. I couldn’t have been happier—until Dagger took my hand and held it in his lap, and I was.
I managed to sip my raspberry tea with one hand, but when the sandwiches were presented, I snatched the other back, but not before he kissed the soft skin of my palm.
It seemed he was in a conversational mood.
“Do you ever wonder how it is that people find one another?” he asked, his hands wrapped around his sandwich as though contemplating where to take his first bite. His brown eyes were shaded by sunglasses, but it emphasized the sumptuousness of those lips I loved to feel upon my own.
“Not sure I understand what you mean?”
“I guess I’m thinking aloud, but doesn’t everyone, at some time, sit back and picture the kind of life they want for the future, including the person they imagine would be their mate?”
I nodded, wondering where he was going with those thoughts.
“I never imagined finding someone like you, much less having her literally walk through my front door. I just think it’s kind of incredible, that’s all.”
I laid down my sandwich and tapped my mouth with my napkin. “Why, Dagger, you’re getting positively mushy. What’s up with you today?”
His face froze, and I could tell he felt like he’d crossed a line somewhere—some macho line where men weren’t supposed to talk about such things. I sensed his embarrassment and tried to reassure him.
“It’s an unusual man who is willing to express himself, and the fact that you choose to do that with me is really special. Thank you for that.”
That seemed to appease him a bit, and I felt better. “I guess I’m finally letting out some feelings I’d buried a long time ago when my parents died.”
“I can understand that.”
“How about your parents? Do you miss them?”
I thought about his question before answering, trying to explain it the right way. “There’s no question I miss Ann Arbor and some of my friends there. My parents, well, I love them, of course, but sometimes your parents hold you in suspended time. They’re used to your growing-up routine and expect you to feel and think as they do for the rest of your life. They sort of snuff out your individual personality.”
“I can see how that would have happened, particularly for you. You and your sister have some pretty defined roles. They’ve probably grown used to having you nearby and be the sane one.”
“You know, as badly as I want to defend my sister, it’s true, she’s a nutcase. Always has been.”
“How long since you’ve seen your folks?”
“About six months, now that I think of it.”
“You know, you have a car. You can drive over any time, sweetheart.”
“Huh, I guess you’re right. You wouldn’t mind?”
“Your life is your own. Sure, you should go and see them. But I have to admit I have an ulterior motive.”
“Oh?”
“This mess with your sister and Malchevsky… I know you mentioned that Tiffany threatened to tell your folks you were doing something shameful, and it seemed to bother you. I thought you might want to get a jump on that by going to talk with them face to face. Maybe do a little anticipatory damage control?”
I put my food down, wiping my hands, and stood enough to give him a neck hug. “I never realized you could be this thoughtful!”
Dagger seemed a little embarrassed at my compliment. I doubted that thoughtful was a word he often heard used about himself. “I’ll admit it wouldn’t be the first thing I’d mention on a résumé.”
“Hey, Dag?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Would you be willing to go with me?” I knew it was a big step I was asking of him, with all sorts of connotations. “I mean, it would just be a day trip. We could leave early one morning, scoot over in about four hours and just stay for lunch and head back. I would love for them to meet you and not let Tiffany fill their heads with all sorts of lies and exaggerations.”
“I suppose I could do that,” he agreed, his face understanding. He looked at his watch. “Hate to cut this short, but we’re supposed to meet Maggie at the first house in twenty minutes. It’s about a five-minute drive.”
I nodded and took a last bite, downing the rest of my tea. “I’m ready when you are,” I said. Dagger threw a large bill on the table and pulled out my chair. We arrived at a palatial house with a circular drive and considerable old-growth landscaping. We got out and walked around the property, waiting for Maggie to show up, which she did, right on time.
Dagger was already frowning as she got out of her card. “This isn’t it, Maggie. The lot is nice, and the access to the lake is great, but I want something more contemporary. This place looks like something out of Sunset Boulevard.”
She shook my hand, laughing, as Dagger introduced us. “I had a feeling you might say that, but I wanted to narrow down your tastes.”
“Consider them narrowed,” he retorted. She gave him a thumbs-up as we climbed back into our respective vehicles.
When we got to the next property, Dagger barely pulled into the drive. He rolled down his window as Maggie walked back toward us. Shaking his head, he told her, “Not this one, either. It looks like a summer house that they cobbled up by adding on additions. This would be a tear-down and an entirely new building going up.”
Maggie nodded, looking over her shoulder at the structure. “You know, Dagger, you might want to keep that option in mind. Most of the property along this stretch is already developed, and if the house doesn’t suit you, it could be an opportunity to build what you’d really want in its place.”
Dagger frowned. “I’m looking for something that’s ready for move-in. I don’t want to wait a year or more.”
She nodded. “I understand. The next one isn’t as big as I think you wanted, but let’s look at it regardless, shall we?”
“Lead the way,” he nodded, and we were off down the same road.
The next property wasn’t visible from the road. We proceeded down a long drive that wound amidst Douglas fir trees, seventy feet or taller. The drive was sand, not blacktop or concrete. When the house finally came into view, it was so unlike anything we’d seen in the area that it took my breath away.
The house was modeled after a Rocky Mountain log mansion. It sat high on a bluff overlooking Lake Michigan, and stands of windswept pines stood in clusters throughout the property. The house itself was flanked by log-embraced flowerbeds that were professionally landscaped with a variety of colors and textures. They beckoned for you to look at your leisure. Groupings of Adirondack chairs with side tables were arranged in intimate conversation groups at several poi
nts throughout the property.
The heavy, thick-walled construction made you feel welcomed and secure, and the sweeping wraparound porch was reminiscent of an older Victorian home. Once we got inside, we found thirty-foot pine ceilings with beams that made you feel small and insignificant beneath their strength. Recessed lighting and suspended ironwork chandeliers could be adjusted to your desired brightness. A stone fireplace, large enough for two people to stand inside of, faced a grouping of overstuffed furniture and Tiffany glass lamps that sparkled like a gem collection.
The center of the house was a completely open living space furnished with sturdy and yet very comfortable pieces, most likely custom-designed. At the opposite end of the great room, floor-to-ceiling windows were unframed but for the stone wall that held them in place. The open floor plan extended to grand hallways that led off into wings. On one side, we found a gourmet kitchen, a formal dining room, a breakfast nook, and an office with magnificent log bookcases built into the walls, topped by panels of colorful stained glass. At the opposite end of the house were two separate wings. One held the master suite, a small sitting room with a built-in theater, and a magnificent spa with whirlpool tub, separate showers for him and her, a sauna, and a closet large enough to be a separate bedroom.
The alternate wing held a collection of cozily decorated guestrooms with baths. Downstairs was a larger media room, a sixteen-foot pine bar with stools made from twisted, lacquered limbs, more bedrooms and baths, a laundry area, an in-house shooting range, and wide sliding doors that opened onto a twenty-foot deep patio with an in-ground infinity pool at one end. The patio overlooked the lake, and a trolley accompanied a series of steps and landings from the house to the water’s edge.
I looked at Dagger, eager to see his reaction. His face was alight, and I thought that was a good sign. He briefly checked out the foundation and the plumbing and wiring diagrams that he found in the utility room. That was the sort of thing men did, and he seemed to be impressed. We stepped out back and discovered a guest cottage hidden among the pine trees, as well as balconies that opened from each of the upper bedrooms out to a private lake view with seating.
“What do you think?” he asked me, and I had to close my jaw to answer. I’d never been in anything so organically beautiful and comfortable in my life. This house certainly belonged in the pages of an architectural design magazine.
“I think it’s breathtaking,” I assured him. I could see he’d already made up his mind but was looking to me for reassurance.
“My people will be in touch,” Dagger said in Maggie’s direction, and he held my hand as we wandered once more throughout the property and then got into his car to leave. He was quiet for the first few miles and I could tell he was thinking about the house, most likely envisioning the business part of it. “Did you really like it?”
“Are you kidding? It was gorgeous. I’ve never been in anything like it in my entire life. I have to admit, I got a lot of decorating inspirations while we were looking through. I was picturing plaids and denims, corduroy and gingham.”
“Well, if I knew what any of that was, I could tell you whether I agree or disagree, but I’m going to leave that part of it up to you.”
“Does that mean you want to buy it?”
“That’s what it means.”
“Oh, Dagger, I don’t think you will ever regret it! It looks like you belong there. I have a sense about these things.”
“I’ll have to take your word on that. But I agree with you on one aspect. I do belong there. Not just me, but you. In fact, what I’m thinking is that, zoning permitting, we might offer a few very limited weekend retreats. It would only be a few couples and they would stay downstairs, or outdoors. Our upstairs space would be untouched. I would hire a staff for a gourmet health food bar, and the privacy would allow our clients to take part in their yoga while in open nature. What do you think?”
I swallowed hard. “I think that’s an awesome idea, but you don’t think you would feel your privacy was invaded?”
“Would you?”
“It’s not my house, Dagger.”
“I know that. And that’s not what I’m asking you. Would you feel as though you lost your privacy if we had weekend events?”
“No, I suppose not, as long as there were off-limits areas and I didn’t have to worry about cooking. I guess I’m just picturing a situation where Malchevsky and Tiffany show up. I’m thinking that wouldn’t make you very happy.”
“No, you’re right. We’ll have to be sure that doesn’t happen. I could put security staff on duty. I could also have a gate installed with pass-key entry. As a matter of fact, I would have the entire property fenced and made secure.”
“I think that’s a great idea. I know it would make me feel safer.”
“Then we’re in agreement. I’ll have my attorney take care of things. All the furniture inside is part of the deal? I’d like you to go through and tag things you don’t want, and then I’ll give you carte blanche to re-furnish and decorate according to your taste.”
“Oh, God, I’m going to love this.”
We were silent on the rest of the ride home to the studio. I knew he was thinking about the business ramifications while I was dreaming of four-poster pine beds and clad upholstered wingback chairs.
“Dagger, you showed me a really nice day today. Why don’t you let me make us some dinner tonight? Give me a couple of hours to put it together and take a shower? What do you say?”
“I say I’m all in.”
“Those are magical words, you know,” I teased him.
“Those were intentional words.”
***
I hopped into my car and headed for the market. It had been a semi-nautical day, and I thought lobster might be a good choice. I bought red, new potatoes, the makings of a green salad and lime sherbet for dessert. I felt quite domestic and I loved it.
When I emerged from the store, I noticed a black truck with tinted windows slowly driving along the outer edge of the market parking area. It stopped when I stared at it, and that spooked me enough that I walked briskly toward my car and tossed the groceries onto the back seat. Once I got inside and started the engine, the truck moved on. I didn’t want to think it might be Malchevsky, but the possibility was too strong.
Pulling out of the area, I looked both ways and saw the truck backed into a driveway down the road. I felt as if it was watching me, and sure enough, when I pulled out onto the main road, it followed me, cutting off a car to avoid being blocked. I was truly spooked, and I thought about calling Dagger, but there wasn’t much he could do to help me. We’d had such a lovely day, and I wanted to have an equally lovely night. I didn’t want to let Malchevsky ruin it. I continued on, turning a few times when I didn’t need to, but the truck kept on my tail.
I finally pulled into the alley that led to the back of the studio building. As I watched, the truck went past the alley and I heard its horn honk. Malchevsky was taunting me, and I was frightened. Not just for myself, but for my sister, too. He was unbalanced. I was angry with Tiffany for exposing us to this menace.
It took me two trips to get the groceries up to my apartment. Malchevsky was no longer in evidence. Evidently, the cat had grown tired. I wanted to put the episode aside and decided not to bring it up. I knew it would ruin our evening.
Besides, we had something to celebrate. Dagger was buying a real house and I would be living there with him! But I had something even greater to celebrate.
I was in love.
It had taken a day of behaving like a couple, instead of a boss and his employee, to make me see the truth. Up until that point, I’d had trouble trusting Dagger’s words. It wasn’t that he was lying; it was that I didn’t know how to understand the language of courting and love. My urge to remain a virgin had burdened every overture from every male with lethal potential, sexually speaking. Even from the beginning, Dagger had been up front with me. It had been my decision to sleep with him. He’d never coerced me. I
had finally learned to trust my instincts, and that’s how I knew I loved him. He could do no wrong.
I was showered and the meal preparation done when Dagger came upstairs. He tapped at the door and I immediately let him in, throwing my arms around his neck to express how happy I was to see him. He smelled of aftershave and testosterone. Could there be a better combination?
“Smells good in here,” he said, as if reading my mind in reverse.
“That’s because you’re here. The rest is just a fishy lobster and scentless salad.” I knew it sounded wacky and immature, but I felt overwhelmed by the realization of my feelings for him and was suddenly abnormally shy.
He smiled, as if acknowledging that. “Almost feels like a first date,” he suggested, and I nodded.
I motioned toward the table by the window. “Why don’t you have a seat? I have some champagne chilling. I’ll get us two flutes.”
He nodded and pinched me lightly on the ass as I turned my back. I squealed, and he came up behind me, wrapping his arms around and over my breasts. He nuzzled my neck. I could feel chills racing down my spine. “I want you,” he said without preamble.
“I know, me too, but I went to so much trouble making you dinner. I want to show off a little—would you mind?”
He laughed. “Sweetheart, I don’t think I need any more convincing, but this is your party. I’ll just sit down and wait until you’re ready for me.”
His words almost caused me to swoon. They’d never had such an effect on me before, and I loved it. This must be what it feels like to be in love, I thought. Everything had taken on a new magic, a new dimension that I’d never seen or felt before. It felt like life was a musical, and I wanted to dance through even the ordinary parts, like brushing my teeth.
I carried in the champagne and he popped the cork, filling the two flutes I held. “To us, a new house and all the promise the future holds,” he said. I held out my glass to clink against his. The glow was already beginning within me. One toast followed another and we became tipsy, laughing harder and harder as we took turns making every one more ridiculous than the last.