Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“You don’t have to be shy.” I tease a strand of her hair and wind it around my index finger. “You have great hair. And a great body, too.”
Her half smile and timid glance tell me this is what she needs to hear. I tug gently on the strand, and she leans toward me so that I’m able to kiss her forehead. “Besides, look.” With my chin I point to the picture window behind the bath. She turns, and her sharp intake of breath lets me know she loves the view. The window looks out over the cove, and at the horizon the sun is kissing the sea in a spectacular symphony of color: gold, opal, pink, and orange burst through the purple cloudscape and over the darkening water. It’s splendid.
“Sa bukur.” Her voice is full of wonder. “So beautiful.” And she loosens her arms.
“Like you,” I say, and kiss her hair. Her delicious fragrance—lavender and roses mixed with the scent of fresh sex—fills my nostrils. I close my eyes. She’s more than beautiful. She’s the whole package. Bright. Talented. Funny. And courageous. Yes, above all, courageous. My heart stutters, and suddenly I’m overwhelmed with emotion.
Fuck.
Swallowing hard to contain my feelings, I offer her my hand and bring her fingers to my lips. I kiss each in turn before she steps into the bath.
“Sit.”
She quickly twists her hair into a gravity-defying knot that perches on her head and sinks beneath the bubbles. She winces, and I feel a stab of guilt, but her face relaxes as she looks out at the mesmerizing sunset.
I have an idea. “I’ll just be a minute.” I duck out of the bathroom.
* * *
The water is deep, hot, and soothing, and the bubbles have an exotic fragrance that Alessia doesn’t recognize. She examines the bottle of bath gel. It reads:
JO MALONE
LONDON
ENGLISH PEAR & FREESIA
It smells expensive.
She leans back and stares out the window, and her body gradually unwinds.
The view.
Ua!
It’s a picturesque scene. The sunset in Kukës is spectacular, but it sets behind the mountains. Here the sun is sinking languidly into the sea, illuminating a golden path on the water.
Remembering how she stumbled in the waves earlier, she smiles. How foolish she’d been. Foolish and free for a few hours at least, and now here she is in Mister Maxim’s bathroom. It’s bigger than the en suite in the guest room—and has two sinks beneath ornate mirrors. She feels a momentary pang that Maxim’s brother, who had built the property, could no longer enjoy it. It’s a fine house.
Catching sight of the washcloth, Alessia grabs it and gently washes between her thighs. The area is a little tender.
She’d done it.
It.
On her own terms, with someone of her own choosing, someone she desires. Her mother would be shocked. Her father…She shudders to think what he might do if he knew. And she’d done it with Mister Maxim, an Englishman, he of the startling green eyes and the face of an angel. She hugs herself, recalling how gentle and considerate he’d been, and her heart beats a little faster. He’d made her body come alive. She closes her eyes and remembers his clean scent, his fingers on her skin, the softness of his hair…his kiss. His blazing eyes, full of desire. She sucks in a breath….And he wants to do it again. Her muscles tighten deep in her belly. “Ah,” she whispers. It’s a delicious feeling.
Yes. She wants to do it again, too.
She chuckles and hugs herself harder, trying to contain her dizzying elation. She feels no shame. This is how she’s supposed to feel. This is love, isn’t it? She grins and feels a little smug.
Maxim reappears carrying a bottle and two glasses. He’s still naked.
“Champagne?” he offers.
Champagne!
She has read about champagne. But never thought she’d experience the taste.
“Yes, please,” she says, as she sets the washcloth aside and tries to look anywhere but at his penis.
She’s fascinated and embarrassed at the same time.
Large. Hooded. Flexible. Not how it was earlier.
Her experience of male genitalia has been limited to works of art. It’s the first time she’s ever seen one in the flesh.
“Here, hold these.” Maxim interrupts her thoughts, and a blush steals across her face. He hands her the champagne glasses and smiles down at her. “You’ll get used to it,” he says, and his eyes sparkle with humor. Alessia wonders if he was referring to the champagne…or his penis, which makes her blush even more. Tearing off the copper-colored foil, he twists the wire cage and pops off the cork with ease. He pours the bubbling liquid into the glasses. Alessia is surprised and delighted to see that it’s pink. Putting the bottle down on the windowsill, he clambers into the opposite end of the bath and carefully sinks into the water. The foam rises to the brim. He grins, waiting for the water to spill over the side of the bath—but it doesn’t. She draws up her knees as he slides his feet on either side of her.