by Tara Sue Me
“I want you in my bed this weekend, Abigail,” he said.
I wasn’t about to argue with that.
His part in the conference didn’t start until Sunday evening, so for the first part of our trip, our time was ours. Well, ours and the two hundred thousand people who happened to be visiting at the same time we were.
We tried the touristy thing on Saturday. I watched Nathaniel and enjoyed his almost childlike playfulness, realizing just how much of his childhood had been stolen from him with his parents’ deaths. But a day was just about all we could take of the push and pull of the crowds. I supposed we were both relatively quiet people who enjoyed our privacy. This was just as well, considering his plans for Sunday morning. It had somehow escaped my attention that spreader bars, floggers, and paddles filled one of his suitcases.
On Monday, I spent the morning in the resort’s spa, Nathaniel’s reward for the day before. Afterward I lounged by the pool, watching little kids splash around the shallow end. Even though I was half reading, I noticed at once when Nathaniel entered the pool area.
For one, he still had his suit and tie on. Regardless of being in Florida for a conference, no one else I’d seen had visited the pool dressed in such a manner.
Second, he was Nathaniel and he was a sight to behold. As evidenced by the number of women who perked up or talked more animatedly when he showed up. I held my magazine up higher, hiding for just a second as I watched him.
He looked around the pool, eyes scanning faces as he tried to find me. I shot my gaze to the text before me when he started looking at the pool deck.
The ladies’ voices to my right dropping to a low murmur was my only indication he’d found me. I strained to hear what they were saying as it became obvious he was walking toward me.
“There you are,” he said, taking a seat in the empty lounge chair to my left.
I folded my magazine across my chest and smiled brightly at him. “How’d it go?”
“Eh,” he said. “As well as can be expected. Talk, talk, and more talk. Boring as hell, actually.”
“No receptions. No cocktail parties tonight?”
“Nope,” he said. “Just you and me.”
“Heaven,” I said. The night before we’d attended a reception, and the never-ending smiles and introductions had just about done me in.
“It will be as soon as I get out of this suit.”
I thought back to my comment to Elaina the month before about getting him out of his clothes. And our suite did have a private whirlpool. “How about I help you with that?” I asked. “Maybe order some wine from room service?”
He stood up. “Count me in.”
I collected my things and draped my gauzy wrap across my shoulders. I didn’t miss the viperlike stares of the women to my right as we left with Nathaniel’s hand protectively settled around my waist.
Late Tuesday afternoon, he surprised me after he finished with his conference for the day.
“Pack an overnight bag,” he said, finding me while I dug through my bag in search of a book to read. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Overnight? Aren’t we already doing that?” I waved my hand to an unpacked suitcase visible in the open closet.
His eyes were positively dancing with excitement. “Consider this an overnight overnight.”
“Okay,” I said, getting caught up in his playful mood and shoving my new book to the back of my mind. “What does one pack for an overnight overnight?”
“First”—he undid his tie as he talked, and I walked over to help him—“wear the dress Elaina gave you, and—”
“That one?” I asked, my hands stilling at his neck. I held his face, forcing him to meet my gaze. “Where are you taking me?”
His mouth curled up at one end. “It’s not a surprise if I tell you.”
I scowled at him, but he just kept on with the half smile.
“Okay. Fine,” I said. “I’ll wear the gown. There’s no one on this planet who should be allowed to call it a dress. What else?”
“Casual for tomorrow.”
Wednesday was his free day. I narrowed my eyes at him as if I could pick the information from his brain simply by the force of my will.
What is he planning?
“A bathing suit.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “And I suppose you’ll need to bring your two hundred bottles of face cream.”
I laughed. “They aren’t all face cream, and there aren’t two hundred of them. I have only a cleanser, a toner, and a—”
“Yes, yes,” he said, clearly enjoying himself. “All of them. Bring them all.”
“You’re impossible.”
Again with the smile. “Not for you,” he said. “Never impossible for you.”
I huffed and crossed my arms in mock disgust. “How long do I have?”
He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Two hours?”
Two hours later, I was dressed and packed. I’ll admit I felt a bit silly wearing the gown Elaina gave me for my birthday. I still didn’t quite understand why she’d felt the need to give me a gown, of all things. I supposed she knew I’d need several formal items, since Nathaniel attended various black tie events in any given year.
The gown was lovely: an elegant halter dress made of flowing chiffon and belted at the waist. The slate-gray color should have washed me out, but somehow Elaina had known how fabulous it’d look on me.
Still . . .
I’d be walking around a family resort in a formal gown, dragging an overnight bag behind me, for crying out loud. I was willing to bet everyone would look at me like I was two bricks short of a load.
I checked myself in the living room mirror to make sure I didn’t have lipstick on my teeth. Wouldn’t do to be all dressed up with someplace to go—someplace secret, I corrected myself—and to have lipstick on my teeth.
I gave my reflection a satisfied half nod. Not bad. Even for dragging around an overnight bag.
Then Nathaniel stepped out of the bathroom.
Now, I’d seen Nathaniel in a tux before, and it had always been enough to give me pause, but somehow he looked even more . . . more.
I looked him up and down. “Hello, handsome.”
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, planting a kiss on my forehead. “You look too perfect to touch.”
This from the man who packed spreader bars and a wooden paddle for vacation?
“Don’t be silly,” I said, patting his chest.
He jumped backward as if I’d punched him, his face freezing in horror, but almost before I could register what happened, his expression returned to normal.
I blinked.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “Just thought I’d forgotten to pack a little something, something.”
I tilted my head. “Did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Forget to pack a little something, something?”
“No. The something, something is perfectly safe.”
I grabbed the handle to my bag. “Are we ready?”
He glanced at his watch. “Almost.” He held up a finger. “Just need . . .”
Someone knocked at the door.
“That,” he finished.
That?
“The bellboy to take our bags,” he said.
Of course. Why did I ever think Nathaniel would have me drag an overnight bag while dressed to the nines?
He opened the door, handed the waiting gentleman our bags, and held out his arm to me. “Ready?”
We walked through endless hallways and corridors on our way outside. I knew we turned a few heads as we passed. From the corner of my eye, I even saw one lady take a picture of us with her cell phone. I chuckled before remembering my name had been in People. Matter of fact, my picture had been as well, thanks to being Felicia’s maid of honor.
Still, that hardly warranted a hastily snapped picture.
I recalled Googling Nathaniel’s name after meeting him in his office for the fir
st time and how I’d found the picture with Melanie at his side. I wondered if that image was still the first to pop up, or if it had been replaced by one with me. I made a mental note to check on my laptop once we made it back to the room.
As we wove our way through the lobby, something interesting happened.
I walked straighter, my shoulders back and my head up. I realized on that walk that I was not merely Nathaniel’s date, his submissive, or even his live-in girlfriend.
I was Nathaniel’s equal.
In everything.
In the bedroom, out of the bedroom. In the playroom, out of the playroom. In the business world, out of the business world.
He was no better or worse than me, and I was no better or worse than him.
I was so caught up in that realization, we made it to the end of a dock before I comprehended where we were.
I looked in front of us.
“You’re taking me on a boat?” I asked.
He leaned down and whispered to me, “Technically, it’s a yacht, but yes, I am.”
It was long and sleek, and looked like it should be gracing the cover of a boating magazine instead of being docked in south central Florida. Not that I was complaining about it being docked in south central Florida.
“I’ve never been on a boat before,” I said, then hastily added, “Or a yacht.”
“You haven’t?”
“No,” I said. “I never had much interest in fishing.”
“Do you not want to sail?”
“Oh, no. I’ve always wanted to be on a boat, just not a fishing one.”
“Yacht,” he said, nodding toward the uniformed man approaching us. “He might take offense if you keep calling his baby a boat.”
“Yacht,” I said. “Always wanted to sail on one of those, too.”
The captain welcomed us aboard and then left us alone to explore. There was a bedroom, a sitting room, and a well-appointed bathroom. I noted our bags had been stowed away in the bedroom closet.
Dusk was falling when we stepped back out on deck. I looked around. The yacht had pulled away from the dock and resort and was making its way to the middle of the lake.
I watched the water for a few minutes, enjoying the soft breeze and the hum of the yacht’s motor. Once we’d pulled away from the majority of the resort water traffic, we stopped.
“Dinner’s ready,” Nathaniel whispered, coming up behind me and taking my hand.
I nodded and turned. Someone had been busy. A candlelit table had been set up on deck with crisp white linens and delicate china.
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
He smiled. “I suppose beauty’s relative. Come with me,” he said. “I ordered your favorites.”
He pulled a chair out for me and, once he took his own seat, poured us both some red wine. I took the glass he offered and looked up as I sipped. A thousand sparkling stars were visible, joining in to perfect the scene further.
A waiter appeared and set a bowl of soup in front of each of us.
“You know,” I said, after I enjoyed a few spoonfuls of the delectable soup. “One of these days, I’m going to surprise you.”
“You are?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “First of all, I’ll blindfold you.”
“I like the sound of this.”
I took another sip of soup. Butternut squash. The taste was a delicious combination of oaky sweetness. “Then I’ll force you into the car and drive.”
“Where will you take me?”
“Somewhere completely unexpected.” His expression practically begged me to continue, so I did. “The grocery store.”
He set his spoon down. “The grocery store?”
“Yes,” I said. “And I’ll drag you up and down aisles and show you how to properly choose your milk and bread.”
“You’re going to surprise me with a trip to the grocery store?”
I nodded. “Yes. Because I could never come up with anything as wonderful as all this.” I waved my hand. “This is lovely. Thank you.”
“You’re thanking me, and we haven’t even made it to our entrées yet.”
“I don’t need the entrées,” I said. “Just being here with you. The thought, the planning you put in to all this. It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Abby,” he said. “I’ve lived the majority of my adult life alone. I thoroughly enjoyed planning this.” His eyes still held the glow of excitement they had hours ago. “Besides. You, in the moonlight, with candles lighting your face. That gown.” He shook his head. “It’s all the thanks I need.”
He hadn’t exaggerated when he said he’d ordered my favorites. The soup was followed by braised lamb with roasted asparagus. A plate of cheeses came next.
“That was wonderful,” I said, finally putting my napkin beside my empty plate. “I don’t think I can eat another bite.”
Nathaniel smiled at the waiter, who had appeared to remove our plates. “Nothing else for right now.”
I wondered what else he had planned.
“Thank you, sir,” the waiter said and left, hands full of empty plates.
Soft music had somehow been piped on deck and had played while we ate. Moments after the waiter left, the music changed and the familiar strains of a piano started to play.
Nathaniel stood, walked to my side, and held out a hand. “Dance with me?”
I took his hand and stood. “Always.”
He drew me close and as we danced, I felt the warmth of his hand along my shoulders. I thought back, remembering, and sighed.
“Happy sigh?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Just remembering.”
“Remembering what?”
“Our first dance.” I pulled back and caught his eyes. “You remember?”
“Of course,” he said. “You made me want to dance. How could I forget that?”
“I think,” I said, catching my bottom lip between my teeth. “I think that was the night I first realized I could fall in love with you.”
“Really?”
“Mmm,” I hummed as he spun me slowly around the deck. The waiter was nowhere in sight, and it felt as if we were the only people on Earth. Maybe we were. “It scared me, that realization. I still wasn’t sure who you were, but it didn’t matter. I knew I was in danger of falling in love with you.” I squinted at him. “What were you thinking that night?”
He had a faraway expression in his eyes. “The night of our first dance, Linda’s benefit, I was still in horrible denial. I couldn’t admit to myself how much I felt for you.”
Not surprising when you thought about it.
“Now,” he said, hand slipping to my waist. “The night of our second dance—”
“Felicia and Jackson’s engagement party?”
He nodded. “That night, I knew exactly how much I cared for you. How much I loved you. And I was the scared one. I was so afraid you’d never want anything to do with me again.”
The night was too perfect to dwell on our past. We’d discussed and talked about it so many times. I wanted to talk of our present, our future.
“But our third dance,” I said. “When they got married . . .”
“That dance,” he said, with a smile. “Was near perfect.”
“Yes, but not nearly as perfect as this one.”
We came to a stop in our dancing, and though the music continued, we simply stood with our arms around each other. I looked up into his face. My Nathaniel. My heart hurt just thinking about how I loved him. If I could just bottle the night to somehow breathe it in when things got difficult . . .
He swallowed several times.
“Abby,” he started and then stopped.
Oh, fuck, is something wrong?
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He nodded, almost absentmindedly, before continuing. “I’ve, uh, thought about this so many times and came up with line, after line, after line. Somehow, though, I think the simple approach is best.”
What the . . . ?
My hand flew to my mouth.
“Abby King,” he said, his eyes filled with love and adoration. “I love you. Will you marry me?” He opened what I now saw was a ring box, exposing a stunning diamond solitaire inside. “Be my wife?”
It wasn’t until he said, “Abby,” again that I realized I was frozen with my hands covering my mouth.
Have I not answered?
“Yes,” I said just in case, and his face erupted in an expression of joy, relief, and delight.
“Yes?” he asked, still not moving from kneeling on the deck.
“Yes. Yes. Yes,” I said. The ring looked all blurry.
He stood to his feet. “You’re crying.”
“Sorry.” I wiped the moisture from my eyes. “It’s just you. There.” I pointed to the ring. “And then . . .”
He very slowly slipped the ring from the box, and I saw it clearer. The band was composed of a single row of diamonds and the center stone had to be at least three carats.
Making sure he kept his eyes locked on mine, he lifted my left hand and kissed my ring finger, right where it met my palm, before sliding the solitaire on.
“Perfect fit,” I said, finally breaking eye contact to look at my hand. The moonlight bounced off the flawless stone, and my hand felt heavy and weightless at the same time.
“I cheated,” he said. “Felicia helped with the ring size.”
I laughed as I understood just how long he’d been planning the night. “And Elaina?”
“Actually,” he said, “the gown was her idea.”
“But she knew?” I asked. “About tonight?”
“Mmm.” He nodded and lifted my left hand up once again. “I can’t wait.”
“Me either,” I said, wiggling my fingers, knowing exactly what he was talking about. We’d be married before the year was out.
He drew me close, placing soft kisses along my cheekbone. I dug my fingers through his hair and lifted my chin to brush his lips with mine. The touch of his lips was so familiar, and yet somehow still so new. I parted my mouth and tasted him, taking his hands and pulling him closer, delighting in the knowledge that this, this man, his touch, would be mine forever.