Love Found Me (A City Love Novel, Book 1) (4 page)

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.

Almost falling asleep to the sound of sirens wailing a tapering tantrum...New York was New York. She'd grown to appreciate its brashness, grit, and mind-blowing opportunity. She loved a city that made dreams happen. There was no place like it.

Fighting the effects of the wine, she debated whether to write tonight's journal entry. But, knowing how journalizing always made her come to terms with the reality of her own life, meant that she was minutes away from what could be another self-discovery.

She leapt off the bed and wobbled over to the antique writing desk,
Where's a pen?
The desk was solid and bright white, but quaint and looked like it would've been in a summer cottage perched within a light-filled New England villa.

As she braced herself on the century year old wood, the smooth surface was clear of anything except for a framed image of a young man and woman on a pier. Danielle paused and held the frame close for a moment, staring at the completely unfamiliar setting.

Seconds later, she fumbled to place the frame exactly where she'd found it, still feeling the slight buzz from the merlot. But then, just as she slid the drawer open, she'd raised an eyebrow. There it was--a crisp letterhead from the offices of,
Finch Young and Prentiss, CPAs
. Apparently, he hadn't known her last name was
Prentiss
. He hadn't really known anything about her, or so she thought.

Danielle was lost for words, as her mind spun what could've been a reasonable explanation, or maybe not. And then, a few moments later she'd tussled the letterhead back as she'd started to call for him, "Rom--"

But then her call for him stunted in mid-sentence.

Her hands were shaking but she'd stilled them as best she could to file the letterhead exactly between the folders where she'd found it. Danielle quickly slid the drawer shut nearly slamming her finger as she bolted back to the bed. It was barely a few seconds after she'd only called the first syllable in his name when he'd poked his head around the doorframe in his undershirt. "You called. Is everything okay?"

Danielle suddenly noticed Roman standing in the doorway. She looked at him with uneasiness, as he stood panting. She hadn't expected him to come so quickly. At that moment, she shifted slightly and looked at the pillow, her gaze focused on the flower he'd given her that was lying atop the silk.

She wasn't certain whether to mention anything to him, especially after all he'd done for her. She didn't want to ruin the evening they'd had.

Despite the way his shoulders broadened in the doorway, he'd looked like a man that was clearly no stranger to pumping iron--his solid abs bulged perfect little ripples in the ridges of his tank shirt. Prince charming could've carried his Princess to Camelot, if only she'd bothered to notice.

His were no paltry muscles. With every breath he'd panted made the sentiment even more obvious. Danielle would have salivated if her gaze hadn't still lingered on the flower.

Although she was a lightweight woman, the mattress bounced, rolling the rose off the pillow when she'd shifted slightly to look over her shoulder at him. "Everything's fine. Just fine," she forced a smile and nodded.

His breath was still heaving, although to Danielle it all seemed to ping her brain into indecisiveness and Roman's futile attempt to shield her suspiciousness was still heavy on her mind.

Roman raised an eyebrow, "Alright then, I guess this is..." He paused just before he gave a small smile and said, "Goodnight," as he turned his step from the doorway.

She could hear his bare feet gliding across the hardwood as he stepped out into the hall, just as he started shuffling his step toward the living room.

When Danielle heard the coast was clear a few moments later, she waddled back to the desk and slid the drawer back open. As she tucked her hand into its crevice, ruffling through the contents, she noticed another sheet of office letterhead had been neatly tucked under a few other papers and a couple folders. Except this one was confidential and off-limits to lower-level or outer office personnel.

Danielle's eyes were wide and still full of questions as she wrote tonight's entry...

Sunday night

A lot of bizarre things have been happening. Car almost tried to, scratch that-- It nearly scared the living daylights out of me. But then I was just absolutely livid about it. Things could've gone seriously wrong. I'm glad I met the new guy I'm staying with-- he's such a gentleman. His name is Roman Jules and I think I feel something for him. I don't know what it is, but I just know I haven't felt like this in a really long time.

I just wish I knew though, if he was feeling something too. He acts like he might--sometimes--but why doesn't he act on it. Or is it all in my mind. Maybe he just wants to be friends--and that's all--maybe there's nothing else to it. But I still wonder though, are my qualms worth consideration ... is it all a coincidence that today's fiasco happened just moments before I'd met him?

Roman sprawled face-up on the living room sectional with his hands loose at his sides and feet angling out over the arm rests. Suddenly his phone vibrated on the coffee table. His eyes flew open and he'd instantly rolled toward the glow of the television to reach his phone, pressing it between one ear and his shoulder. After some effort, he'd whispered into his phone cupping his hand over the other.

Hey, this is Roman.

Yeah, she's here.

You didn't have to--

Hang on a sec.

Clearing his throat, Roman repositioned his head on the sofa cushion before continuing.