How To Host a Seduction (24 page)

Christopher looped Ellen's arm through his, tucking her close by his side for the trip back to the real world to greet their future.

With a bright smile, Miss Q followed Olaf and Susanna through the door, and, as she swept past, winked up at them and said, “Ah,
l'amour.
”

Manhattan—one month later

A
FTER REPEATED KNOCKING
didn't yield an invitation into Ellen's apartment, Christopher used his key to let himself in. She hadn't been expecting him back in New York until the following day, but as he'd wrapped up negotiations for controlling interest in a Las Vegas hotel, a two-thousand-room property currently an entertainment hot spot and a plum acquisition for his firm, he'd hopped on an earlier flight.

He might have called to tell Ellen he'd be coming over, but he had the element of surprise on his side tonight and had decided to run with it. After all, Ellen had been making a great deal of headway lately in learning to allow herself to enjoy life's unexpected moments. She'd even shown promise in arranging a few surprises of her own.

Like the night he'd arrived home from Germany, where an analysis of a historic site had held him up, to find her draped across his leather coach wearing nothing but high heels and his tie. Who knew his fiancée had such a latent impulsive streak?

Tonight Christopher found her on the small balcony, misting orchids as she inspected the leaves with a thoughtful expression. She was still dressed in a suit, and he suspected she hadn't left her office until late.

Silhouetted in profile against a night sky that blazed
with lights brighter than the stars, he felt his pulse quicken and a smile form on his face. His sense of contentment with the world continued to grow stronger as they neared their wedding day.

“Will you miss your garden, love?”

She paused in mid-spray, darting a surprised gaze his way. Just as quickly, surprise dissolved into pleasure on her beautiful face.

“I'll be sad to let it go, but I'm excited to start another in our new home. We'll have so much room.”

“We've been approved by the apartment home owners board?”

She nodded. “We're ready to close whenever we can arrange our schedules to get to the title office.”

“Let's make it a priority. I want to use this last month before the wedding to get some work done on the place. I want our home ready when we come back from our honeymoon.”

After an intensive search, they'd finally found the perfect apartment on the Upper East Side, a place where they could face whatever life had in store for them.

“I took Mom and Leah by to see it yesterday. They loved it. Said we lucked out big-time.”

Christopher set his briefcase on the dining room table. Shrugging off his jacket, he loosened his tie and draped both over a chair. “I only wish we were having as much luck tracking down your engagement ring.”

“Not for a lack of searching.” She hung her mist bottle on a neatly arranged shelf that contained various gardening supplies. “I did see one yesterday that has potential. I passed the jewelry store on the way to lunch with Mom and Leah.”

“Potential, love? I thought we agreed we'd only consider a ring that sent you over the moon.”

“I'm beginning to think such a beast doesn't exist. There can't be many jewelry stores left that we haven't visited.”

Christopher reached into the change pocket of his jacket. “Such a beast exists.”

Something in his voice must have given him away because Ellen narrowed her gaze. “Really?”

“Really.” He stepped onto the balcony to join her. With a sense of excitement, and not a little anxiety, he presented her with a blue-velvet jeweler's box and popped open the lid.

For a moment, she eyed the ring inside dubiously. He only allowed himself to breathe again when her beautiful hazel eyes widened and her mouth popped open in kissable astonishment.

“Oh…my…gosh.” Her gaze darted up to him and then back to the ring again, before she plucked it from the box for a closer inspection. “Christopher, this is it! How did you…I mean
where
—”

“I had it designed.”

The ring held a striking solitaire set in a streamlined swirl of polished gold.

“There's an inscription,” he said.

My love, always.

“It's perfect.” Her eyes glinted suspiciously.

Taking it from her, he slipped it onto her finger, pleased with the fit. As he'd already asked her to marry him, he thought about asking her to love him, always.

But Ellen had caught her lower lip between her teeth as though she was losing her fight with tears, so he said, instead, “I'm glad you think it's perfect, love. I was beginning to think we'd have grandchildren before finding you an engagement ring.”

She lifted that misty gaze, frowned. “What would you have done if I'd hated it?”

“Put it up for auction on eBay, I guess.”

“Christopher!”

He laughed. “It never even occurred to me that you'd hate it. Like you said, we've visited nearly every jewelry store in the city. I had a good idea of what you were looking for. I just needed a jeweler to design it for me.”

“Who?”

“Miss Q hooked me up with an artist back home who specializes in designing erotic jewelry. She told me you admired several of her pieces on display in the Eastman Gallery.”

Ellen extended her hand to survey the ring again, and Christopher savored her tender expression, the contentment that made her every exhalation sound like a sigh.

Then, in the space of a heartbeat, that weepy glow in her eyes took on a hint of playfulness he'd never seen before their return from Félicie Allée and was only now becoming acquainted with.

“So this ring was designed by an erotic artist, hmm?” she said thoughtfully. “Let me see what's so erotic about it. The inscription has definite erotic potential, of course.”

Slipping the jacket from her shoulders, she hung it from the gardening shelf before turning her back to him and motioning to the button at the collar of her blouse.

“My love, always,” she said softly while he unbuttoned her blouse. “I do, you know.”

“I do.”

His body temperature began to climb when she pulled the silky blouse over her head and tossed it aside absently. It snagged on the branches of a ficus tree. Ellen either didn't notice or care, because she turned her attention to unzipping her skirt.

“So what else is erotic, do you think?”

Besides the sight of her shimmying that skirt down her long legs? “The design sort of reminds me of a cherry on top of a soft-serve ice-cream cone.”

“An ice-cream cone?” She glanced down at the ring as though that thought had never occurred to her, and she wasn't entirely certain she liked the parallel. “What's so erotic about that?”

Cocking a hip against the railing, he feigned a nonchalance he was far from feeling, as she stepped out of her skirt, leaning over in a studied move of sleek curves and feminine grace, a move he knew was intended to make him salivate. And did.

“When I think of ice cream, I think of licking.”

“Hmm.” She stood up again, tossing her skirt through the open door and not glancing back when it missed the chair she'd presumably been aiming for and landed on the floor. “Are you thinking about licking right now, Christopher?”

“I am, indeed, love.”

“Good, because I was thinking that my new beautiful engagement ring might be most erotic…” she trailed off while popping the hook to her bra “…if it was the
only
thing I was wearing.”

Her beautiful breasts spilled out, gleaming pale in the moonlight, and he folded his arms across his chest to keep from pulling her against him. Ellen had the floor and he'd decided before ever leaving Félicie Allée to do everything in his power to help her explore this playful, impulsive side of herself.

It was good for her, and, he thought as he watched her breasts plump invitingly when she leaned over to peel away her panty hose, there were obvious benefits for him.

“Out here, love, really? Where the whole city might
see?” Which wasn't entirely true. Not only was the night dark, but no prying eyes could possibly see through the jungle of plants that comprised Ellen's balcony oasis. “What about rule number three of the Talbot family code of conduct, which states clearly that public displays of affection invite public speculation?”

“Didn't anyone tell you that rules were meant to be broken?” Ellen shrugged, making her breasts jiggle invitingly. “I suppose I'll just have to devote our future to showing you.”

“You do that, love.” Because from where Christopher stood, the future looked so damn good.