Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
He pops the cork with a quiet hiss. “Come,” he says, and leads me to the platform. He presses a button and a circular seat rises from its base. It is almost like a bed. You could lie there and watch the stars for hours.
“Oh, how decadent,” I murmur as I climb onto it and arrange my nightdress around my legs.
“Would you like some blankets?”
“No, I’m not one of those hothouse flowers that wither away in the cold. Even in the winter I’ll sleep without heating and with the bathroom window open.”
He sits next to me. Not too close. There is at least six inches between us. Then he fills a glass and hands it to me before filling his. I watch his hands. Hairless, the skin pale, but the sinews underneath make them appear powerful and muscular. He lifts his glass.
“To the stars.”
“To the stars,” I echo softly.
The champagne fizzles on my tongue. There is something magic about drinking it under the night stars with Rocco. I close my eyes. 1841. Wow! And then a strange thing happens. I smell the warm grapes. I realize I have never tasted anything so rich and wonderful. I open my eyes and stare at him. “This is astonishing.”
He looks at me eagerly. “What does it taste of?”
I close my eyes. “It tastes of sunshine, earth, wooden barrels, and the skin of women who have pressed the grapes.” I open my eyes suddenly, embarrassed. What’s wrong with me? Of course, I can’t taste the skin of the women who have touched the grapes.
His eyes are full of secrets, as his lips curve into a mysterious smile. “See. You are not a philistine.”
“How would you describe it?”
“It has a rare complexity. Perfectly balanced accents of game, mushrooms, and dried fruit.”
His description makes me feel unsophisticated. Why didn’t I say that? “Yes that is what I was trying to say without much success… there is an authenticity, richness, and purity about it.”
“What you are trying to describe is the fact it is grown without chemical fertilizers.”
I nod and take another sip of the delicious champagne. He is right. It has no chemical aftertaste. I have noticed that he is very particular that the food and drinks he consumes are of the highest quality, and also grown and stored in the most natural way possible. “Purity is important to you, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” he admits softly.
I smile impishly. “You must be the purest person I know.”
“No, I’m not pure.”
“Well, you certainly are the most majestic,” I counter.
His eyes dim. “Once we were majestic. No more.”
“What happened?”
Mentally, he withdraws from me. “It’s a long story. Perhaps one day I’ll tell you.”
I take a sip of the delicious champagne and drop my head backwards to stare at the blanket of twinkling stars. “When I was about two years old I was convinced I could fly. My mother said she had to watch me like a hawk, or I would have climbed up on the dining table and launched myself into the air. I only finally gave up when I fell on my head one day. My mother always said I’ve been soft in the head ever since.”
He chuckles. A low, hypnotic sound that makes me turn my head to watch him. In light from the moon and stars he is like something from a dream. Unreal. Impossible to ever possess, or call my own.
“Here, let me make it more comfortable for you,” he says, pressing another button on the console. The seat of the chairs start to move downwards until the space becomes a platform again. I lie back and he joins me.
Not close enough to touch, of course, but close enough that I can feel his presence.
Chapter 26
Autumn
I can feel the champagne fizzing in my veins, making me feel light-headed. I turn my face to look at his profile and he immediately does the same. Our eyes lock, and intense desire like I have never known throbs between us. It is wild and dangerous.
My throat becomes dry and my heart thumps so loud in my chest I am certain he can hear it.
I let my gaze drop to his lips. They look so red and inviting my thighs clench. There is only about a foot separating us, and every cell in my body is screaming at me to close the distance and taste those red lips with my tongue, but I am frozen. I cannot move a muscle. It is as if I am under a spell.
“It would be borderline cruel if you didn’t kiss me now,” I whisper.
He exhales as if he has been waiting for a very, very long time to hear me say that. His irises become molten, the pupils growing. All the world falls away and time stands still. He is so beautiful my breath catches. Then he begins to inch closer and closer toward me, until I feel his warm breath tickle my face. I smell the rain.