Gift (Enchanted Ardor #2)

Chapter Four

They never did get that second drink, though they did opt for something sweet.

After an hour of hedging conversation, fingers still linked, Olivia led Nick back into the main part of the manor, mingling with other guests, then they settled on a padded velvet bench for another hour, exchanging parts of their lives in subtle drops and phrases, though they both knew neither led the mundane lives they hinted at.

She, an independent consultant and he, a mass distribution CEO.

She lifted the spoon bearing the rich pomegranate and whip cream dessert to her lips, eyes closed as she savoured the burst of flavours. Her pink tongue darted out to catch errant white fluff and Nick was nearly undone.

The mischievous sparkle in her eyes highlighted the goodness of her soul as she offered him a spoonful.

It didn’t just shine in her eyes, she practically glowed with it. A spring beacon in deep winter.

Even when her expression turned sultry, her gaze devouring him when she thought he wasn’t looking.

It made his chest swell every time he allowed himself to linger on her lovely face where every thought and emotion was plain for the world to see, even if she didn’t give them her voice.

He accepted the offered dessert, holding her gaze as his hand slid across her thigh to her other hand resting on her lap.

So much more to her than her words described.

And despite that light and goodness, there were scars that she buried.

As they all did.

No one lived as long as they did—and Nick immediately sensed her longevity—without incurring any number of scars, shoring up their hearts.

Eventually, her glance drifted toward the ornate banister and up the stairs toward the darkened guest rooms.

A thrill of anticipation shot through Nick. He tamped it down, lest she had thoughts of sleep and nothing more.

Her gaze slid around the decorated room. The guests were thinning out, as those remaining trickled up the stairs. “Are you tired?”

She shrugged a slim shoulder, more mischief tugging at her lips. “Maybe a little. Are you?”

Nick was nearly lost in the sparkle in her eyes. “Not even a little bit, but if you’d like me to walk you to your room, I’ll oblige.”

“There might be hooligans up to no good lingering in the hallway.” Her focus dropped to their still-entwined fingers.

He couldn’t stop touching her.

Neither had seemed interested in releasing the other. The gesture held a naturalness to it that Nick had never experienced before. Not even with Hedi, his first wife. Nick shunted that memory away before it darkened the moment.

Olivia’s hands belonged in his—her body linked with his in some small way.

“We can’t have that.” Nick agreed, his own focus landing on her soft lips.

The tip of her pink tongue slid out over her lower lip.

She eased to her feet in a fluid motion, dessert forgotten. Nick followed her up the stairs.

At the top stood a sign in a gilded frame.

‘Beloved guests, please choose any room that suits you. Breakfast provided.’

“Quinn is such a thoughtful hostess.” Olivia glanced up and down the hall where every door but one was closed. “There seems to only be one left.”

“Then it’s yours.” Nick led her to it, stopped and bent over her hand, brushing his lips over the top of it. “It’s been an honor, Miss Boncoeur—I never did ask if you had a mister.” He straightened.

She smiled, shaking her head. “I gave up on that idea a very long time ago. I live free as a bird now.”

“Now?”

Olivia shrugged. “Relationships seem to get me into more trouble than I care for. So I just avoid them now. Too much hard work and heartbreak.”

“Keep your head down and focus on your work? Yeah, I can relate to that.” His thumb slid over her fingers. “Good night.”

He turned to go, but she hadn’t relinquished his hand, tugging him back.

“Nick.”

Her luminous blue gaze drew him to her.

He glanced at the crisp white bed through the open door.

Her thumb stroked along the crease of his palm, inciting a shiver through his whole body.

“There might be a hooligan lingering in there, too,” she whispered.

“We can’t have that either, can we?”

“I prefer not.”

She crossed the threshold; Nick followed.

His gaze remained locked on her face as she scanned the room. “Looks safe enough.”

“Perhaps.” He leaned forward, drawn to her lovely mouth.

“You’ll stay to be sure?” She mirrored him.

“How do you know I’m not the hooligan?”

Olivia eased the door closed behind Nick, her fingers slipped the lock. “If you are, then I want to get up to all of the shenanigans you can think of.” Her free hand slid up his chest as she leaned up into him.

Nick pulled her to him, head dipping, lips descending to hers.

She was painfully warm and sweet as his insides twisted with the knowledge of her perfection.

And that smile… took his breath away.

When she finally broke the kiss, she whispered against his lips. “We have one night, Nick.”

He leaned back to look down into her eyes, full of the same hope that lingered in his heart.

He nearly slid the shutter across that sentiment, as he usually did, but whatever drew him to Olivia was the same thing that stayed the closure.

Hope.

“One night.” His fingers brushed the golden locks from her face, his thumb caressing her cheek and jaw. “Such a rare gift.”

This, was different than any other time he’d spent a night with a woman. The same understanding, same brief exchanges, yet everything was different about it too.

So different.

There was magic in this.

It’s been so long. Can I risk my heart for one night? Just one?

When he looked into her eyes, it was clear her thoughts were the same.

A risk wasn’t so much of a risk, if it was just once?

They were safe with each other, this night.

Olivia finally released Nick’s fingers, turning her back to him and pulled her hair aside to expose the zipper between her shoulders.

He could tell from the set of her shoulders that she held her breath.

Would he accept her offer?

How could he not?

I’m really not a saint.

Pulse ticking, Nick smiling ruefully when his fingers trembled as he reached for the button above the zipper.

Unable to resist, he pressed his lips to her nape and down her shoulder as the dress eased open, revealing her creamy back to him.

Her breath eased out on a sigh.

It was Nick’s turn to stop breathing at the sight of the dark red lace. He hardened instantly.

His palms guided the fabric off her shoulders and down her arms, trailing more kisses in its wake.

She’s so soft, so perfect.

Her breath hitched as goose flesh rose at his touch.

“You’re cold,” he murmured, hands sliding down around her midriff as the dress finally pooled at her feet.

Her response was to lean back into him, hands over his as he explored her body.

Her bottom was soft against his hard groin. She arched her back, leaving no doubt of what she wanted from him, guiding his hand across her hip and lower belly.

Her heat called to his fingers.

Resisting, Nick turned her to face him so he could reclaim her lips as he shrugged out of his jacket.

Olivia went to work on his tie, her lips opening to his, her tongue seeking and testing.

Nick made short work of the buttons on his shirt. His tie slithered to the floor, resting atop the dress as her fingers found his belt.

The heat in her eyes when she looked at him ignited a long-forgotten blaze within him.

Impatient, Olivia’s hands seemed everywhere at once as Nick gave up on the clothes, needing to deepen the kiss, to possess her for as long as he had her. His hands slid up to cradle her face, focusing on her mouth, the rich flavours of the pomegranate desert still sweet on her lips and tongue.

Her hands roamed, caressing his torso and back, working their way below the band of his pants. They fell to the floor.

They both gasped when her hand closed around his hard length.

Nick broke the kiss, her name on his lips as he pressed his forehead to hers, struggling not to lose himself.

One night.

All night.

He’d make the most of it.

She’d never forget him.

He certainly wouldn’t forget her. He couldn’t.

Whatever magic was within her, it sought him with its delicate filigreed tendrils, testing, teasing, encircling, enticing.

He let it. For this one night.

She made him feel alive again in a way that he’d forgotten its likeness in his many long, lonely centuries.

Since he’d accepted his mission, so very long ago, shedding his mortality.

Her inner glow warmed him, crackling the unnoticed layers of stratified snow around his heart, letting them fall away for something fresh and new.

I miss this—this feeling.

Nick leaned into Olivia’s grasp, one hand sliding down to pull her thigh up onto his hip. His fingers drifted along the edge of the lace bordering her panties toward her moist folds, teasing.

His head dipped down to her collarbone, lower still to taste the tops of her breasts.

“You smell amazing,” he growled against her, taking control of her hands before he spilled himself right at the threshold of the door. Placing her hands on his shoulders, he pulled her other leg up, supporting her as her ankles locked behind him.

Kicking off his shoes and stepping out of the mess of clothing, Nick carried Olivia toward the bed as she held his face, claiming his lips with pure sweetness.

At the foot of the high bed, Nick lay Olivia back with the utmost gentleness, leaning over her, hip to hip, revelling in the heat of her body.

It would be so easy to slide the thin fabric aside and slip into her warmth.

Too soon.

Instead, his hands caressed her back, slipped the hooks of her bra free as he kissed and nibbled his way down her chest, taking each nipple into his mouth, sweeter than the pomegranate confection, each in its turn, fully enjoying her subtle gasps and moans.

More.

Drifting downward, his tongue circled and slid into her belly button before he pressed his face against the delicate junction of hip and thigh, kissing his way across the top edge of her panties, whispering against her heated skin. “Liv?”

“Yes,” she gasped, fingers threading through his hair.

His hands slid down her hips, dragging the band down, exposing her to him.

With all gentleness, he kissed his way down her inner thigh to her knee as the scrap of fabric disappeared off the end of her foot, still clad in her strapped stilettos.

Nick’s cock jerked at the sight as a barrage of images of all the ways he would have her this one night beat against his brain.

But first, he planned to worship her.