Lion of Midnight (8 page)

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Authors: Aliyah Burke

BOOK: Lion of Midnight
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Nikolas held a chair and said, “Thank you, Vassi. That will be all. Have a great night.”

“Very good, sir.” The man vanished in silence.

“Your seat,” Nikolas said, staring at her, the flames giving his eyes a mottled look.

Inhaling sharply, she moved toward him and allowed him to seat her. He was still surrounded by that crisp, outdoorsy smell and scent of pure virile male. Her mouth watered for another reason when he pulled the cover off the dish on the table.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed. “Smells divine.”

“Goose with apples drizzled in a brown sugar/caramel sauce, freshly baked wheat rolls, and some boiled cabbage.” Nikolas slid her in close before moving to the other side and taking his seat.

Her mouth watered as she looked over the spread before her. The butter even tempted. It looked soft, whipped almost. “This looks amazing,” she said as she unfolded her linen napkin and placed it across her lap.

“Thank you. I’ll pass your compliments on to the chef.”

She nodded in thanks. Cleo could feel her belly rolling in anticipation of tasting this incredible feast. Still, she waited. She’d never eaten first unless out with girlfriends—then she’d eat when they did—otherwise, she’d always waited for her husband to take the first bite.

Nikolas searched for and held her gaze. “Something wrong?” he asked, his fork hesitating partway to his mouth.

“No, not at all. Just an old habit, I apologize.”

His eyes narrowed. “Something to do with your stupid ex-husband, I am guessing.”

She forced a smile. Thinking about the ex was not how she wanted to spend her evening. Lifting the fork, she took a bite of the succulent meat. It seemed to fall apart in her mouth, the taste spreading through her, and a moan of pure pleasure escaped.
Sweet Jesus.

A knowing grin flittered across his face as he, too, put his fork in his mouth. Cleo had a hard time swallowing as she watched his jaw in the flickering light. The gentle glow from the fire and candles made his skin seem like soft gold. The strong, aristocratic set of his face made her imagine things like them on the floor in front of the very fire in the room. How goose would taste from his lips. Yanking her eyes from him, she focused on her plate. Cleo ignored the feelings that coursed through her body.

“I don’t bite, Cleo. You can look at me.” His low voice flowed over her skin like velour and silk. When she met his dark gaze, he winked. “Until you tell me to bite you, that is.” He licked his lips.

She shuddered at the pure sexual implications of his smooth words.
I’m in so much trouble with this one.
Slowly, but with deliberation, Cleo blinked once and held his gaze. Keeping the fork poised before her mouth she smiled. “Do I get to pick the place, as well?” she asked with a slow drawl.

His eyes appeared almost black for a moment as he glanced at her. When he blinked and looked upon her again, she noticed they had lightened but were no less tumultuous. “Oh, yes,” he said with promise.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she retorted and turned her attention back to her food.

Chapter Seven

Nik clenched his teeth against the surge of longing that swept through him. The erection in his pants was harder than the granite from which his home had been built. Every pore in his body yelled for him to sweep his arm through the items gracing the table, to hell with where they landed, and take the woman across from him. Over and over until they both collapsed from exhaustion.

His cock pulsed as her full lips curved up enticingly before gently hiding the fork with a bite of goose and cabbage on it. Nik’s gaze never moved from her lips as she pulled out the clean utensil. It was like a cotton field had taken up residence in his mouth, as dry as it was. The smile that teased the corners told him she knew how she affected him.

Putting down his fork, he reached for a roll and broke it open, inhaling the rich fragrance as steam spiraled up to the ceiling. With a silver knife, he spread the homemade butter on it, watching as it melted into the soft bread. Nik took a bite and chewed slowly as he prayed for control. Every second he spent in her presence, he felt himself reverting back to the warrior who didn’t give a damn about the rules. He continued his vigilant watch while she wiped her plate clean with a last bit of the roll.

With a soft sigh, she placed her fork, prongs down, and knife on the plate. “That was, by far, the best meal I’ve eaten while in this country. Hell, the best meal I’ve eaten in a long time.”

Swallowing, he set the remainder of his food down. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”

“It was amazing.” A cute chuckle left her. “In fact, that’s how I’d describe this whole day.” Cleo looked at him and smiled. “Thank you, for everything.”

He felt like he’d handed her a star. No, a galaxy. Her eyes shone, and he fell deeper in love. Pushing away from the table, he stood and walked around to her side and inhaled the compilation of scents that surrounded her. Another tremor of lust rocketed through his body.

“Dessert?” he asked.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t. Between this meal and the cake I had at Mihailov’s, I’m stuffed.” Placing her hand in his, she got to her feet, as well. Then, to his shock and amazement, she began gathering the dishes. “Can you point me in the direction of the kitchen, please?”

Wrapping one hand around her delicate wrist, he shook his head. “You don’t need to do this. It will be taken care of.”

“Nonsense. It won’t take me long to do these up.” She tugged her hand free.

“Cleo, you are a guest in my home.” His heart skipped as she met his gaze.

“I know. Now…the kitchen, please. And bring your dishes.”

Managed. I’m being managed
. Tamping down the urge to hold her, Nik ran his tongue over his teeth and moved to his end of the table. It didn’t take long and he was leading the way through the house to the kitchen. Laughter filled his head as he strode along, laughter that sounded suspiciously like his brother’s.

It seemed like he blinked and she was making herself at home in his spotless kitchen. She began filling a stainless steel sink with water before bending over and giving him a lovely view of her delicious derriere as she hunted for something. Dish soap.

“I’ll have these done in a jiff,” she said over her shoulder, and her hands delved into the sudsy water.

Nik didn’t know what to do. Most women he knew wanted a dishwasher or a person to clean up after them. But not her, not Cleo. She’d ordered him around in his own house, and now, she stood in the kitchen,
his kitchen
, dimly lit by two recessed lights over her head.

“And, what am I supposed to do while my guest does dishes?” he asked, crossing his arms.

Sending him a brief but heated glance over her shoulder, she quipped, “Surely, you can put water on for tea.”

That’s it, keep on sassing. Won’t be so smug when I have you bent over that counter.
“That is something I think I can handle.” Moving to the large oven, he turned on a single burner on the range and placed the filled teapot on the blue flames.

“Good,” she quipped.

“Get to work, woman,” he snapped playfully as he moved to the island in the middle of the room and leaned against it. Her gentle laughter flowed over him, and it warmed him throughout. “What kind of tea would you like?”

“Cocoa.” A short pause. “With marshmallows.”

He looked at her and arched a brow. Cleo never faced him, so he stood there for a moment as she continued to wash. From tea to cocoa… Well, he
was
learning about her.

She was right; it didn’t take her long to finish, and soon, she was sitting on a stool, her fingers wrapped around an oversized mug filled full of cocoa. Nikolas busied himself with sifting through the cupboards to find her some marshmallows. He didn’t know why she wanted them, but if he had to wake up his staff to get them for her, he would. If it took going to town to get them, he would. His fingers closed around the bag, and he pulled them out with a triumphant grin.

“Your marshmallows, my lady.” Opening the bag, he set it on the marbled countertop before her. He bit the inside of his lower lip as Cleo reached out with one hand and grabbed a handful of the large white pillowed sweet treat. A knot formed in his throat as she ate one, putting the remaining ones on the top of her steaming cocoa.

“Thank you,” she mumbled around the marshmallow in her mouth.

When her brown gaze reached his in the low light of the kitchen, his body shuddered. It wasn’t just the passion that threw him; swirling in the depths was enjoyment at what she was experiencing. The urge to lean across the marble and press his lips to hers nearly floored him. The chime of his cell phone snapped him out of his fantasy where a kiss led to more, much more.

Swearing silently, he pulled the offending piece of technology off his belt, sent Cleo an apologetic smile, and said, “Andreyevich.”

Out of habit, Nik headed for the privacy of another room as he spoke with one of his funds managers. He didn’t mean anything by it, but he’d come to learn people either thought it rude or wanted to know about his business. Still, as he left the comfort of the kitchen, he cast one more longing glance over his shoulder to settle his eyes upon the woman sitting there drinking hot chocolate, swinging her legs on the stool, and looking entirely all too adorable.

When the call was finished, Nik laid it upon the Spanish bronzed bombe console and hastened back to the kitchen to spend more time with Cleo. His heart dropped past his feet as his gaze took in the empty room.

“What the—?” His heart pounded loudly. “Cleo?”

An irrational fear began to well up within him. Images of her hurt or scared raced through him. Ignoring his drink, he raced from the room and thundered up the stairs to the room she’d been given for the night. Without slowing or even knocking, he jerked open the door and burst inside.

“Cleo!”

There was silence. He saw her coat gently tossed over the sofa’s arm.
Where could she be?

“Excuse me, sir. Your young miss is out on the Arabian patio.” Vassi’s voice floated across the room to him.

Spinning on his heel, Nik charged out of the room, brushing past Vassi. At the last second, he stopped and smiled back at the man who’d been with him for many years. “Thank you, Vassi. Now, really, take the rest of the night off.”

An understanding and kind expression filled the old man’s face. “It’s good to see you happy again, sir. It’s been far too long.”

Nikolas nodded; he had been surly way too long. “What do you think?”

This time, it was feistiness that filled the watery gray eyes. “I think you should go get your woman instead of standing here talking to this old man.”

“Night, Vassi,” Nik said as he headed for the stairs at a jog.

“Good night, sir.”

Long strides carried him down the granite stairs in rapid succession. Nik barely slowed as he made a sharp left, grabbed his coat, and headed for the door leading out to the Arabian patio. Instead of immediately yanking the door open, Nik took a deep breath first. It was a good thing he’d done so, for when his gaze landed upon her after he opened it, he promptly lost any and all air in his lungs.

Cleo stood there, bathed in the warm amber light from the wall sconces. She looked across the snow-covered patio, hands wrapped snugly around her drink as she leaned against the pillar that held the wall fountain, which currently wasn’t running. It had a twin on the other end small area. Complete serenity was the name he’d give the look on her face. The cold, the snow, the fact she was without a jacket—none of it bothered her.

“Cleo,” he breathed on a sigh.

“I’m sorry for snooping around, but I saw this through the window and couldn’t resist coming out to see it.”

An apology?
He moved around to where she stood, noting the flush of her skin. Shrugging out of his coat, he placed it over her slender shoulders and pressed tighter against her backside. “You never need to apologize for making yourself at home here. I just didn’t know where you’d gone.” Lowering his head, he allowed his cheek to brush against hers. Her tremble pleased him. But even more was the way she didn’t tense when he did so.

“It’s beautiful here,” she whispered, the awe apparent.

“Stay.” The word popped out of his mouth, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for her response.

“What?” He opened his eyes to see Cleo looking at him over her shoulder.

“Stay…as long as you like.”
Stay with me.

This time, she readjusted her body so he was her support instead of the pillar. “I’d love to stay here. I could spend so much time in the museum and, then, an equal amount in your house, just looking at the treasures you have.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he covered her hands with his. The faint heat from the mug could still be felt in the cold night air. For the first time, Nik felt at peace. The garden in his mind was as green and lush as he could recall, even though, in reality, it was covered, unblemished by snow. He could envision spending the evenings out here with Cleo on summer nights, the smell of the flowers permeating the air.

With his hands assisting, Cleo took a sip of the drink. When she was done, he took the mug completely from her. Her question was silenced by a kiss. Nik slowly covered her mouth with his, but the moment her seductive taste filled him, combined with the chocolate she’d drunk, he lost his calm.

Jerking their mouths apart, he growled, “Don’t move.”

In less than a second, he’d placed the mug on the ground and had positioned himself in front of her, gathering her in his arms. A soft whimper slid from her mouth to his, and when her arms slipped around his waist, Nik shuddered with longing. In and out, his tongue swept through her mouth. The heat in his body grew until he would have sworn it was summer around the Equator. A low rumble of primal lust rose from his belly.
Mine!
his soul screamed.

Cleo arched her lithe body, pressing her delectable curves more firmly against him. He could feel her fingers gripping the sides of his shirt. It was the purring that rose up from her that made his already rock hard cock even harder. Slipping his hands down to cup her firm ass, he squeezed her through the denim. Her hips flexed against him as she tugged at his waist.

Without further thought, Nik lifted her up and pulled back from her mouth enough to rasp, “Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart.” When she did, he began kissing her, again. Their tongues danced with one another as he strode to the door and walked inside the warm home. Barely ensuring the door closed securely behind him, Nikolas headed straight for the stairs.

A bed. I said a bed.
He kept repeating it in his mind, so he didn’t stop until he got to his room. At his door, he pressed her up against the smooth wood. Wrapping one hand in her hair, he tugged until her head was tilted at the angle he desired. Pure liquid heat flowed through his veins as he plundered her mouth. Demanding her complete surrender.

“Nikolas,” she moaned around his assault.

The husky timbre of her voice plucked on his nerves like a taut string. With his free hand, he reached around her and opened the door. As he moved farther into the room, he lessened the pressure of his kiss, until it was just light strokes swimming throughout her addicting taste.

Reluctantly, he placed her on her feet. Their movements became frenzied, then, as they shoved at each other’s clothing. Nik quickly disposed of his coat over her before he reached for her sweater and slipped his hands under it, groaning in pleasure as he felt her skin. Soft and satiny.

 

Cleo was still in a state of near delirium. The world around her was shielded by a slight haze. It had happened the second he’d placed his mouth on hers, again. Her entire world honed in on him. Dragging away, she settled a hand on the chiseled musculature of his chest. His eyes met hers, and if brown eyes could be smoky with desire, then his were just that. Her skin burned under the intensity of his stare.

“Nikolas,” she murmured, averting her gaze from his intoxicating one.

Callused fingertips dragged across her sides before she felt a few on her chin, moving her face back toward him. She bit back a whimper of longing as his thumb gently stroked her bottom lip. Meeting his eyes, Cleo witnessed his passion being restrained, but it was still blatantly obvious.

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