Love Found Me (A City Love Novel, Book 1)

by Amari, Nina

  The earthy scent infused her flesh, as she caressed the smooth toffee leather with vigor. Danielle was relieved and relaxed the more her palms rubbed the imported texture, reminding her of the comforts of home, and that he obviously was a man of refined tastes and culture.

  As she cocked her head against the pillow back, her eyes panned the circumference of the apartment. It was urban chic with a hint of nautical and several touches of youth masculinity. Every inch of the space emanated calm that was steadily sucking worry straight out of her bones.

  Despite the immense size of his loft apartment, the place was packed with worldly antiques, high-tech gadgets and electronics--a true gamer paradise. Classic movie posters trailed the walls along with towering cubbyhole niches filled with rock memorabilia, autographed guitars and signed paper napkins cased above granite pedestals.

  Roman trailed the conversation from the granite island as he grabbed a bottle of merlot chilling in his wine fridge.

  I hope she doesn't get the wrong idea about the wine, he said to himself, as he ducked into the alcove bachelor kitchen. But what he didn't know was that she yearned the bitter grapes almost as much as he did. She couldn't wait for the earthy surge to course through her veins as quickly as possible.

  Instinctively, she swept her hair from her back, as it naturally sprinted a luscious silken waterfall. The ambience pushed her into an aroused stimulation, into a brief, eyes-wide-open kind of ethereal fantasy as she pushed a hand through her long dark curls, totally amazed.

  "Chic contemporary," he smiled, as he hurried back to grab a couple glasses near the vestibule showcasing some of his finest and rarest selections. Cautiously, he popped the cork on a vintage bottle he'd tucked away for special occasions. But any day with a beautiful woman was an occasion for the rarest of bottles.

  Danielle shaded her eyes for a moment, as she spun her head in awe of the panorama aesthetics surrounding her. Her eyes scaled every kinky blend of mirrors and shimmering opulence. Every layered texture of ivory silk, shantung, linen and coffee leather anchoring rare and delicate artistic framed masterpieces. Tapered sky-high chocolate drapes illuminated stunning nautical bric-a-bracs, and remarkable tales of a world traveler's vision.

  "Roman, I see you're quite the man of mystery," she gestured, as her eyes traveled around the room. Danielle went on, "Who knew all this was the man behind the canary Lamborghini."

  His hair glowed a light hazel, as his broad shoulders swung around the maze of furniture. With a mental shrug, his eyes were wide, and his mouth hollowed open before he said, "Oh, not really."

  By the time he'd uncorked the bottle in mid-step, she'd managed to straddle the length of one side of the long L-shaped sectional. Roman slipped around her shoulder with a cheeky grin, as he sidestepped an accent lamp to hover over the sofa with any excuse to get close to her.

  He was close enough that he'd caught scent of her perfume, another reminder of tempting him, How am I ever gonna resist this? When he stared down at her, instantly his features moved into a dimpled arousal. Lavender whisked a field of flowers through his senses just before he slid the glasses to the table, "I'm not trying to get you loose or anything."

  "Careful," he said, handing her a glass as her hair sprung off the leather.

  Roman moved to the other end of the sectional opposite Danielle. She was too relaxed to notice his eyes had snapped a double take of her slender legs poised at just the right angle inching her skirt above her thigh. In that instant, his heart quaked at her bronze glowing at the close of evening. It wasn't the fading light raying his eyes that nearly missed his foot colliding with the sofa.

  "Hmm ... Very good year," she straightened, as she took a sip.

  "What better way to start the evening." Roman replied, as his six-foot frame swallowed the toffee leather as he sprawled against it. Roman suddenly moved over toward her with his glass, sliding close with enough personal space still between them.

  Swirling his glass, he paused and then stretched out his fluted hand. Suddenly he'd felt there was cause to revel in something other than a late night party. Their quiet evening for two would lead to his kindly gesture, "Let's toast to--" Roman tipped his glass to hers. "To us." Clang. "To new friends."

  Danielle didn't want him to see disappointment stamped across her face when she'd muttered a soft sigh, Friends. Just friends.

  Her words trailed into smoke, the moment their glasses clanged again. She took in a deep breath, wanting to forget everything about the toast that was making her rethink the reason for ever agreeing to take up his offer when clearly he hadn't seen the relationship as anything other than "friends" in her eyes.

  "Your place is really nice. Cozy. Reminds me of a trip I took to the Mediterranean once."

  Roman pressed back onto the cushion. Captivated, he asked, "Oh, are you a consummate traveler?"

  "Not really. I'd traveled a bit before I'd gotten so entrenched in my career. Actually, I hardly ever go anywhere except maybe MoMA, Guggenheim, Folk Art...I'm into that sort of thing. Impressionism. I'm an art buff... y’know what I’m saying an art enthusiast."

  "You know..." Roman's eyes widened as he'd shifted on the sofa. "I know a thing or two about--" He nodded toward the huge Degas and Manet anchoring the fireplace.

  The works of art just popped off their canvases. Remarkable, rich and vibrant colors brought the elements of light and perspective straight into the living room. Fascinating shadows captured ordinary realism and movement--bringing a fresh and soulful vibe to a man that had always known how to lighten up and have a good time.

  "I noticed," she added. "This must've set you back--"

  "Don't mention it"--he took another sip of merlot--"You can't put a price on great art."

  Her nose still tilted to the glass, "Hmm, so what brought you to New York?" Her languid gaze came closer as she studied the color of his eyes.

  "Tech. Just tech and lots of partying," he replied. She could've sworn a lilt of tantalizing lust swathed off his tongue as he vented his fingers through his thick dark locks. He was the image of a Greek god with one leg cocked at the knee, and the other stretched the length of his side of the sectional.

  His lanky arm sprawled the back of the sofa, as he scoped her out across from him, like a man stunning his prey. He felt a throe vibrate his chest like a sultry whip tantalizing a spark loosening by the minute.

  "Roman, I've heard all the partying that goes on down here," Danielle paused rolling her neck and shoulders. "Partying, huh?" she shrieked. The cadence in her voice rose all of a sudden, before her words fell silent in thought. I wonder what kind of parties. Danielle hesitated, needing confirmation, as Roman cleared his throat in dismissive response.

  Her glassy eyes darted the sky-high rafters. "A bird could get lost in here, it's nice and airy." She giggled, as her empty glass slid out of her hand and rolled on the smooth leather.

  "Oh, and by the way...nice views," Danielle giggled again, as she placed her empty glass on the coffee table. "Oh, yeah what was I saying, oh I know," she went on, "I bet you have some wild parties up in here...some w-wild, wild parties."

  "With these ceilings, I bet you've had at least a hundred people easy. It sure sounded like it, just the other night--"

  He cleared his throat and swallowed, interrupting her train of thought.

  "What, did I say something wr---" Her words fell silent, the moment she'd hunched over the armrest.

  Danielle slowly tilted her head and gazed up at the exposed beams, as he shifted on the cushion. Her eyes followed his refined poise when he crossed his legs, and slowly fused his ankle to his thigh. Her mind played back his finesse in slow motion, arousing the lust coursing through her veins that she'd hoped he hadn't noticed.

  His eyes met hers again and he stiffened the moment she resumed, "So, about this tech stuff you do--"

  Unable to explain all this to Danielle, there was a growing hesitation and irritation in his eyes. Roman was still trying to figure out just what it was about her
that had him on the edge of his emotions. "So, don't you think it's about time for bed...You've had a long day."

  "My god Roman, the moon's not even out yet." Her arms suddenly flailed like an eagle in slow motion. Instantly, she'd gestured toward the once sun-bathed fishbowl of neo-classical and Romanesque cast-iron, which resembled those stunning masterpieces of light and shadow that draped the walls of his living room.

  Roman finished off his glass of wine and slung it to the table, as he proceeded again to cut the conversation in haste. "So, I guess you should get settled in now." The words came out sharp and abrupt.

  He could see temptation in the whisper of her words that curled the hairs on the back of his neck, tantalizing his heart to break down for her. He knew, that if he didn't cut the evening short, he'd be all over her honey coated raspberry mouth before she knew what hit her.

  I can't, not now! I just can't do it, he told himself.

  Snubbing the pang pining his hunger yet to be satiated, he leaped off the sofa, quickening his speech. "I'll show you where the towels are, I'm sure you want to freshen up...take a warm soak or something." His words fell away as he headed toward the bedrooms.

  He double-backed to scoop her valise off the sofa and flung it over his arm. Danielle wiggled herself out of her tufted cushion, and grabbed her boots off the floor, leaving the warm seat behind her as she sprinted to catch up with him.

  She could almost see the ripple in his bicep as he flexed the toned muscles in his body. "Is it warm in here?" She collapsed a breath and vented her sweater down the hall, weaving behind him.

  Danielle met him at the entry of a lovely guestroom when he asked, "Is this to your satisfaction?"

  Roman suddenly doubled-backed toward a glass vase propped on a corner pedestal overflowing with bountiful clusters of fresh blossoms. The long stems were angled just enough that he slipped out one without disturbing the bunch. He extended his hand toward her saying, "Pretty in pink for a beautiful woman," as he handed her the delicate bud layered in rose pink beauty.

  Twirling the flower between her fingers, she lifted it to her nose and bowed it back, "Peonies in February?" Danielle blushed as she dove into its intoxicating redolence.

  "I have my ways"--he flitted her a surreptitious glance--"So, you like?" He lifted his arm in gesture to the bright ambience. "I like to think of it as a sassy meadow. Surreal calm."

  Her cheeks swathed a bright shade of crimson as she tried to force back her animated arousal. "What a lovely guestroom. Yes, thanks. It's more than comfortable," she smiled.

  Danielle reclined on a corner settee as she flung her unbuckled stiletto boots onto the immense hand-woven hearthrug. She looked up at him, their eyes linking, as she said, "Roman, I just want to thank you for all you've done." She fluttered her half-lidded eyes, before adding in a softer voice, "You didn't have to--"

  He lifted his hand to her shoulder, "No worries. I wanted to. I couldn't just leave you there all alone, now could I."

  There she was, dark-haired luscious locks sprinting a waterfall over her pout bosom. And she was staring at him again, a slight chasm between her slim black brows, her lush bottom lip caught between her teeth.

  Roman slid his sleeves up exposing his beautifully tanned muscular pecks. He was a dreamy vision in earthy tan cashmere. There was no denying his rigid abs jutted the wool fibers of his sweater naturally perfect. As she waited and watched him get her settled in, her eyes ladled every tight protrusion ruffling and jutting his jeans.

  For a moment, her heart thumped hard as he bent, lifted and bowed his manliness back and forth again. Her heart was slow to dive to a more moderate pulsing, as every movement he made was smooth and finessed. Every inch of his body was a testament to dominant power.

  She tapped her toes against the ornate curvature of the armrest and was further aroused to notice him looking back at her. She smiled at him with a tantalizing lure, as he began to make his way toward her.

  "Almost done," he said as his shoulders poised the feathery bed, covered in an ivory pearl duvet. The opalescence magnified the silky shimmer in the ivory pillows and softened the rosy peony petals against the marbled nightstand.

  The entire room was a breezy summer meadow in the heart of winter, draping its veil against the chill quivering all the spiny leafless branches. Golden-blonde sheers softened the evening's glittering sunset on a blanket rug infused with blends of honey-coated chocolate, jade and ivory.

  Danielle straddled her legs over the ornately curved arm as her heart pumped to racecar status, Could he be the--? She'd deprived herself for so long, sultry arrogance was beginning to quicken a mindset toward one thing and one thing only--Lust. Mind-blowing. Feline magnetism. Animal attraction--lust.

  Her thought was interrupted, mesmerized by those lean, rippling muscles. It was clear she was smitten with him. But all he was and continued to be was a perfect gentleman.

  Maybe she should've accepted the fact that nothing was going to happen--well, what she deniably wanted to happen. But obviously, the only action in his plans--for tonight, that is--was some well-intended sleep.

  Danielle peeped over a silk pillow as her eyes swept over his like an animated kitten. "Umm, Roman...Thanks again for everything."

  His naked forearm brushed her silky skin with his of velvet, as he replied, "No problem." Roman smiled and glanced around at the exposed skyline. "It's my pleasure," he added, as he powered the shades for privacy.

  "Fresh flowers, linens, and oh, I've got some amazing aquamarine sea salts that'll have your skin feeling baby soft, not that you need it. You'll feel just like you're on a breezy beach caressing ruffles of tingly waves. It's so relaxing. You'll feel replete." Reposed. His echoing lilt trickled off his tongue like smooth silk. "You'll feel like a new woman."

  "It's amazing," he added. "It'll have your skin smelling like ocean paradise."

  "Think I'll take you up on that," she said.

  "Lucky bubbles." He gave a tantalizing expression as his eyes burned into hers.

  "Maybe, you'll just have to see for yourself sometime." Her body straddled the settee in a sexy poise that spoke, Kiss Me.

  Surely, it was the electricity in Roman's eyes, and in the air that danced between them that pulsed her into overdrive and raised his voice another octave, chiseling his tan a little more stiffened.

  Roman cleared his throat, "Ah...Is there anything else I can get you, like..." His voice was more buoyant than usual when he offered, "I'm sure there are some chocolate covered strawberries if you're itching for a snack. God, why didn't I think of that earlier?" He muttered. "If you have a sudden craving or hunger impulse...Feel free." After a short pause, he continued. "I want you to feel comfortable," he said, his voice a little gentler.

  What's he trying to do to me? God, he's so hot. I've got to tame myself. She told herself.

  It was driving her crazy. Every ounce of her being wanted to rip the cashmere to his bare flesh and taste every morsel of his bronzed deliciousness.

  It was shuddering her insides and inciting her lip to quiver every time he spoke. His generosity was overwhelming. His deep penetrating voice laced her tongue to the point of unadulterated arousal. Was it all too perfectly sweet...was he everything that he appeared to be, or was there more to his story--that he wasn't telling?

  Despite it all, deep down she was hoping he'd try something. But, finally it clicked. Tonight wasn't going to be her lucky night, and she didn't want to appear the fool trying.

  "Okay, you're all set... Sweet Dreams." Roman spun at the doorway, his body weighted against the entry molding. His six foot-four profile amplified the height of the massive ceilings. "Oh, and don't worry," he added. Although, Roman had obviously suspected Danielle was more than capable of handling her situation.

  Her eyes smoldered with intensity as she watched his strong hands glide up and down the molding, his fingers poised on the slick gloss, "You've got me to protect you," he added softly. She couldn't fathom the genuineness of his smile. So, she
nodded in response.

  Roman's wry smile made her dwell on her earlier skepticism. Was he hiding something? Maybe secrets concealed the strange qualm that was heavy on her heart. At the moment, his bronze luster was the only thing streaming a dreamy afterglow amidst the backdrop of a vaporous winter skyline that made the ambiance suddenly appear as though it was late evening.

  Once Roman left, a few seconds later she sprung off the settee. "Ummmm." Her angelic hum saturated bliss throughout the inner room calm, as clove and cedar wood perfumed every shallow niche and gently laced a veil of undulating warmth. Danielle paced the silken wool curling her toes underfoot, as her flesh became more limber and relaxed by the minute.

  She ceased to stir her nerves of the peril looming to memory, until she discovered a Monet painting infused the ambience of her guestroom. Tucked around a corner niche enfolding a wood-burning fireplace and the plush chaise. It sparkled a tingling calm of sea greens and cerulean, golden yellow, and baby blue. Hay whisking sunset and vibrant strokes smoothed shadows of illusion and popped a breezy meadow off its canvas.

  Danielle mummified at the titillating effusion of pure serenity. Perfumed rose petals and scented lavender submersed her half-lidded eyes in dreamy sensuality. Earthy wood tones incited her impulse to dive headstrong into the thick cloud of pillow top mattress, and barrel roll atop the crisply taut linens.

  She yawned and eagle-spread across the duvet for a brief moment, twinkling her toes near the foot of the bed. Danielle smoothed her hands over the luscious cotton fretted like silk, radiating the same afterglow as her cherished penthouse haven upstairs.

  The very next moment, her hands were fused behind her head as she faced the massive wall of windows, gazing at the transoms glimmering a mirage of tapered architectural peaks and valleys. A sea of mountainous silhouettes and spires sprung off their cobalt canvas in a maze of glittering lanterns, as her eyes glowed, blinking into focus.