“Look at me, Cherie.” I have to physically grip her face to make her look at me. I smile. “Kiss me,” I say nipping at her bottom lip.
“That’s not going to work, Victor,” she balks.
“Do it.” I hold myself just inches from her mouth.
chapter fourteen
VICTOR’S TRYING TO distract me. But I can hardly breathe as it is. If I kiss him, I’ll get even more lightheaded.
“Cherie,” he whispers to my neck.
“I can’t kiss right now. I’ll pass out.”
Breathe in, breathe out.
“Aw, come on. I know my mouth is powerful, but it’s not that potent.” He grins.
I can’t help but laugh. “Just hold my hand and let’s be still.”
The creases around his eyes are far too sexy when he smiles even broader. “Okay. If that’s what you want. But come up here to be still.” He pats his lap. “Let me fondle you. This is supposed to romantic.”
Romantic? I drag my gaze from the darkness outside to stare into his gold-flecked chocolate eyes. “You’re trying to romance me?”
“Hell, yeah.” His smile turns a bit more serious. With a fingertip, he caresses my cheek. “Will you let me know when it’s working?” The pad of his finger moves to my lips.
Not likely.
I lightly bite his finger. He growls.
I narrow my eyes at him. “This is a distraction, isn’t it?” But I can see in his eyes that he’s sincere about the romance thing. He doesn’t say anything.
Breathe in, breathe out.
I deepen the inhale in the hope that I won’t hyperventilate. He’s right. I can’t tell where the ground is or how high we are. It’s kind of like traveling in a subway car through dark subterranean tunnels.
He pats his lap again. Intellectually, I know it’s a distraction on his part. Emotionally, I want that distraction.
Not letting go of his hands and holding my breath as I move, I stand and step in front of him. Bracing myself on his shoulders, I slide my shins on either side of him onto the bench and straddle his lap.
As I do, the cabin shakes briefly. I scream and dig my fingers into his shoulders. “Did I break it?”
He laughs. “Just a cable juncture. It’s okay.”
Sliding his hands under my skirt, he strokes my behind. “Mmmmm. I love you right here like this.” He nuzzles my breasts through my sweater. “Lift your sweater.”
“Victor.”
“Lift it or you’re going to have embarrassing wet spots.” He winks.
Letting go of his shoulders, I pull my sweater up.
“Pretty bra,” he says, tracing the lace with his tongue. “Get it out of the way, too.”
I unclasp the front hook , and spill out at him.
“So beautiful.” He growls, licking a nipple and fondling the other breast. Like he’s savoring his favorite candy, he suckles the nipple, working it slow and soft.
God. This is an excellent distraction. Hands in his hair, I arch my back and shamelessly press into his mouth. He opens wider to take in my areola, too. As usual, the sensations go right between my legs making me squirm on the bulge in his pants.
“Are you sure you don’t want just a little rockin’, peaches?” He says with a groan and a hard grind against me. “We’ve got time before we reach the Saint Sophia station.”
Before he goes any further, I say, “Nope.” I take my breast away from his mouth, snap my bra closed and pull my sweater down back where it belongs.
Exaggerated frown on his face, he whimpers like a puppy that just got spanked. I laugh out loud and he smiles back.
Amazing that I’m doing this. Mom, Shavone, Ells, Gabs — so many people have tried and failed to get me on a gondola. I cannot believe I’m dangling hundreds of feet off the ground and I’m not screaming bloody murder or hyperventilating or both.
“About that romance bit.” I kiss him lightly. “Just talking me onto this contraption is very romantic. Thank you.”
He cradles my head under his chin, strokes my back.
“You’re welcome, sweetness,” he says, softly.
Closing my eyes, I relax against him, let his hand rubbing my back calm me. The gondola bounces as it goes over another support structure. I tense, but don’t cry out this time. Just keep my head resting on his chest.
Victor, though, enjoys the bounce with an “Ooooh” paired with a little up and down grind of his pelvis.
“You are crazy,” I say, giggling into his chest.
“For you, mi ninfa. For you,” he whispers, kissing my head.
Careful, Cherie. Keep your heart to yourself.
After a few minutes, the clouds move off allowing a burst of moonlight to highlight the mountainside. I watch the trees, in silhouette, float by outside. It’s a perfect full moon tonight.
“It’s so peaceful up here,” I mumble.
“Uh, huh,” he mumbles back softly.
Is he falling asleep? I sit up to look at him. His lids are closed. When he opens them, there’s so much emotion in his brown eyes it tugs my breath. I’m not even sure what it is. Lust, sure, but it’s something more.
His mouth opens like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he tangles his hands in my hair and kisses me tenderly.
The lights come on in the cabin.
“And just like that, we’re here,” he says.
“I did it without screaming,” I say.
“Too much anyway. Maybe we can create a different kind of screaming going down.” He grins.
Shaking my head at him, I move off his lap and sit on the bench. The gondola jolts. I grip Victor’s arm until the unit glides into the Sophia Station and comes to a stop.
He stands, drapes the blanket over his shoulder and with a hand in mine pulls me up.
“It goes higher from here, right?” I say, stepping out of the cabin behind him.
“Yup. This is more or less a halfway point. Next time, we go all the way up to the Mountain Village.”
Feeling supremely confident, I tilt my head and say, “Okay.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiles.
With his hand wrapped around mine, we walk just a few steps from the station to a contemporary chalet-shaped building constructed with native mountain stone. He holds the door for me to step inside. The view immediately catches my attention.
Through huge windows is the mountainside on the other side of the box canyon and nestled down below between the two mountain ranges are the twinkling lights of Telluride.
“Vic. I didn’t think you were going to make it after all.” A handsome redheaded guy and Victor grip fists in a buddy-type hand shake.
“I got held up,” Victor says.
“By this lovely lady?” The man smiles, turns his vivid green eyes to me. “Lucky you.”
Not answering the question, Victor smiles and introduces us.
“Alec, this is Cherie Valentine. Cherie, Alec Howard, owner of the world-famous Mister A’s, and one of my best friends.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, taking his proffered hand.
Alec kisses my hand. “It is all my pleasure, beautiful Cherie.”
“Back off, Alec.” Victor laughs. “Did you give up our table?”
“Now what kind of friend would do that?” From beneath the small entry desk, he retrieves a pair of elegantly embossed menus. “Right this way.”
Instead of taking us into the main dining room, Alec leads us around the side of a stacked stone wall to another room. With a slight nod at Victor, Alec steps aside and indicates that I should go first through the archway.
My feet and my breathing stop just a few steps in. Lit entirely by candlelight and a roaring fireplace, it’s an intimate private dining room with just one table, set for two, tucked between the fire and the window — outside of which is that spectacular full moon vista. The icing on the cake are the urns and urns of giant calla lilies placed around the room. It’s so beautiful, the emotion of it pricks my eyes.
<
br /> From behind me, arms wrap around my waist. Victor whispers in my ear. “Do you like it, sweetness?”
“Victor. I’m crying.”
He chuckles. “Happy tears I hope.”
I nod.
“Was I right? Is it the most magical restaurant?”
“In the world,” I whisper.
He kisses my neck. “Come.” He walks in front of me and, with glistening eyes himself, offers me his hand. I take it and let him lead me to a chair at the table. He holds the chair for me as I sit.
Alec follows us in, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m so happy you’re pleased, Ms. Valentine. My staff thoroughly enjoyed setting up the surprise for you.”
I wipe a tear from my cheek. “Please tell them thank you from me.”
Nodding, he hands us each a menu. “Enjoy. Your waiter will be with you shortly. Would you like a glass of wine before dinner?”
“A bottle of champagne, please,” Victor says.
I can tell he’s pretty pleased with himself for arranging this.
“Absolutely. On the house, my friend.” He pats Victor on the shoulder while Victor hands him an iPod. On his way out of the room, Alec stops at a small table, docks the device and presses a button. Heartlight, a song by Neil Diamond, plays softly.
I raise an eyebrow at Victor. “Eighties music?”
He nods, studies his menu.
“You thought of everything,” I say. Another tear escapes my left eye. “This is so sweet.”
No one has ever done anything like this for me.
He reads his menu and doesn’t look at me. Swallowing and creasing his brows together, he says, “You’re worth it.”
I tilt my head.
“Stop, Cherie. You’re going to make me cry,” he says, hiding behind the menu.
My smokin’ hot, totally ripped Latino lover is a big softy.
Down heart.
I clear my throat and open the menu. “Okay, I won’t cry.”
“Good.” After a few moments, he says, “The Colorado lamb is awesome here.”
“Don’t you dare order that. Poor little things.”
He smiles, finally looking at me. “You had steak this morning. So I know you’re not a vegetarian witch.”
“Lambs are adorable, though. How can you possibly eat them?”
“I’m a wolf.” He shrugs laughing.
Seeing the exorbitant prices of the entrées, I cringe a little. “The seasonal salad sounds delicious.”
“Oh, hell no. You’ll have a real meal, or you’ll insult me.” He sets his menu aside.
“Fine. I’ll have the king crab legs with grilled vegetables.” Surprisingly, the crab is one of the least expensive meals available.
When the waiter comes, Victor orders for me and orders elk steak for himself. Next, the sommelier arrives to pop the champagne. She pours a small amount for Victor. He tastes it and approves. The woman fills two glasses, sets the bottle in a bucket of ice, smiles and leaves.
“I really shouldn’t,” I whisper. “I don’t want to get the restaurant in trouble.”
“You won’t.” He picks up his glass. “Happy early birthday, Cherie. I’m so incredibly glad you fucked up and got the wrong room.” He smiles big, flashing his secret sexy weapon — his eyes.
I study them to see how serious he is. He’s serious. I clink his glass with mine.
“Me, too.” And the scary thing is, I mean it. I’m happy he was my first rather than Jesse. What does that say about me? About Jesse?
Sipping the bubbly liquid, I stare at the mountain peaks. Astonished with how romantic the gondola ride was and now this dinner. I don’t even know why he’s doing it. We’re already lovers, so he has no need to impress me to get me into bed.
Why he’s doing it isn’t as important as my reaction. I can almost feel the strings wrapping around my heart and tying themselves into hopeless knots that I’ll never get untied.
As if on cue, a love song starts just as the clouds move out completely revealing a big, bright, full moon practically just for us.
Victor stands, extends a hand. “Dance with me, mi ninfa.” He smiles.
“Victor — ” I want to say no. I should say no, but one of those strings pulls me out of my chair.
chapter fifteen
CHERIE’S EXPRESSIVE EYES show everything she’s feeling.
Tears or fear? I don’t know which emotion fluttering across those baby blues kicks me in the gut the hardest.
Moving slow, I hold my girl close, kiss behind her ear and sing along softly to Foreigner.
“It feeeeeels so right, so waaaaarm and truuue. I need to know if you feeeeel it, too.”
“Victor,” she whispers, tries pulling away. I don’t let her. Her heart beats a mile a minute, the little pulse point in her throat going wild. I press a light kiss to it again and again.
This is what courting a mate should be like. With Jen it wasn’t anything like this. It was just a series of steps couples were so supposed to take to get to the altar. I’m so fucking glad that relationship exploded. It left me free to find this — this with this amazing witch.
I know I’m pushing fast. There are holes in Cherie’s wall, though. I got a peek into her heart in the gondola, saw it, again, when she walked into this room. I’m determined to wedge those cracks wide open, now, tonight. Going slow is for losers. Hasn’t Jesse proven that?
Convincing her to get on the lift was huge, for her and for me. And, fuck, I almost said too much on the way up. It was the way she leaned on me, trusting me, her head on my chest –– breathing so warm and soft. I could’ve stayed on the gondola for days, sitting just like that.
I sing, again, this time at a near whisper.
“I’ve been waitiiiing for a girl like you to come intoooo my life.”
She tilts her head back, gives me a deer in the headlights look. I bury a hand in her silky hair and kiss her sweet mouth — kiss her like my fucking life depends on it. Slow, soft, deep. Wrapping her arms around my neck, her body pressing harder against me, she kisses me back and moves into another part of my heart.
When I pull back for air, I see it in her eyes, a little spark of ‘maybe’ shining through the apprehension.
Hell, yeah, honey, we can do this. Let’s fall in love.
The song ends and I have to let her go. Next on the playlist is an upbeat song — Love Shack. I take a few steps over to turn up the music.
Waving my arms over my head, I mimic a high pitched girl’s voice and sign along to the B-52’s. “The loooove shack is a little old place where we can get togetheeeer.”
A grin from Cherie is my reward. Music is her soothing balm. Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.
In the candlelight with a killer moon, we laugh, sing, dance and shake our asses. My girl is happy. About the time we get to “the whole shack shimmies” part of the song, Alec brings our salad course.
“Hey, you crazy kids. I do have other customers, you know.” Alec places the plates on our table.
“Oh my gosh.” Cherie hurries to turn down the music. “We didn’t even think. Sorry, Alec.”
“Did they complain?” I ask, holding Cherie’s chair for her to sit.
“One stick-up-their-asses couple did,” he says. “Most everyone else bobbed their heads. Maybe we’ll look at doing an eighties night.”
“Ooooh, I would so come if you do.” My girl beams up at him.
“Pffft. If it’ll make you come, it’s a done deal.” He winks, tongue in cheek, at Cherie.
She blushes at the double entendre. I grip Alec’s shoulders and turn him toward the door. “Bye, Alec.”
He chuckles, but leaves.
Pouring us each another glass of champagne, I turn to another topic that Cherie is passionate about, the hospitality business.
“Tell me about growing up in a B&B. That had to be interesting.”
“It was. It’s called Mom’s House and is only a few blocks from the Olympic Training Center. For awhile, our hous
e became an athletic dorm of sorts. I met people and athletes from all over the world. Some stayed for weeks at a time and most came back often.”
As we eat our salads and chat, I discover, among other things, that my dream girl knows some Spanish and French. She’s only semi-fluent, she says, that’s why she didn’t put the languages on her application.
She asks a lot of smart questions about Telluride and The Avalon.
“So, tell me about The Avalon blessing,” she says. “I’ve heard other witches talk about it.”
I swallow the last bite of salad. “The family legend is that a Santana ancestor hired a powerful bruja.”
“Bruja means witch, right?” She asks.
I nod and smile. “See. That’s more than semi-fluent. Put those languages on your résumé from now on. So, yeah, supposedly the Santana bruja put a love spell on a ruby red apple. That part is debatable, obviously. But that the apple was buried in the ground under the foundation of The Avalon is documented. We have photos taken when construction got underway.”
Cherie smiles and shakes her head.
“You don’t believe it, mi ninfa?” I smile.
“No, not really,” she says. “The apple itself could definitely be a love charm, but bless an entire building above it?” She shrugs in doubt. “I do love legends like that, though. The Broadmoor has one, too. Do you know it?”
I shake my head no.
“Well, supposedly Spencer Penrose had hidden caves built around and beneath The Broadmoor to stash illegal liquor during Prohibition.” She laughs. “We called them booze bunkers. A lot of employee down time goes into searching for them.”
“Booze bunkers, huh? That’s awesome. Did you search for them, too?”
“Oh, yeah. Of course.” She giggles, then grimaces. “Wait. Am I supposed to tell my boss about wasting time at another job?”
“Hmmmm. Probably not a good idea, no.” I shake my finger at her. “If you don’t mind, I prefer you keep your search for truth regarding The Avalon’s love legend confined to me.” I wink at her.
“Yes, sir.”
The sultry look she shyly bats from under her eyelashes instantly tightens my pants. The virgin barracuda has her teeth in me. I don’t want her letting go, either.
Accidental Lover (Wolven Moon Book 3) Page 10