Page 37 of Love Lessons
“Night, guys,” Ian says from the other side of the room, where he’s already replacing his chair against the wall. “See you in the morning. What time is yoga tomorrow?”
“Ten,” Anton says. “Drag me out of bed by my feet if I don’t get up.”
I count to ten before I get up off the sofa. “Night, all,” I murmur.
And then I make a break for upstairs.
TWELVE
Lesson One: Anticipation is a Powerful Thing
IAN
My hand ison the doorknob to my room when I hear footsteps hurrying along behind me. Smiling to myself, I push open the door and begin to step inside. My body is humming from the torture I’ve spent the evening inflicting on myself. I want more, starting with her clothes on my floor.
Vera draws up short behind me. But she doesn’t follow me into the room. I can feel her hesitation before I even turn around.
Interesting.
I turn slowly, and take her in. We’ve flown halfway around the world today, but Vera somehow looks fresh and pretty. That dress fits her as if it was designed for her body in a laboratory.
I’m sure that if I got her out of it, the tag would reveal some fancy designer I’ve never heard of. But I’m starting to realize that her worldliness and confidence is as thin as the delicate fabric hugging her tight body.
It’s funny—some people become easier to understand the more time you spend with them. Vera is just the opposite. I used to think she was snobby and a little uptight. But I had it all wrong. Her bravado is fierce, but there’s more there than I anticipated. More vulnerability. There’s yearning in her soulful brown eyes.
And now she’s just watching me, waiting for me to decide what happens next.
“You need something?” I ask.
Her eyes drop immediately to the elaborate rug beneath her feet.
“Just kidding, sweetheart,” I whisper, already regretting my dickish question. “But tell me this—what did you learn from my first lesson?”
She gives a slow blink. “Mostly I learned that I am capable of outrageous suggestions.”
“That’s it?” I study her for a moment. Her cheeks are pink, and her pupils are blown. She wants me, but still, her reply was so self-deprecating. “You’re offering me an out. That’s the wrong play, contessa. You want to seduce a guy—you don’t retreat.”
“Oh,” she says softly. “I told you. I’m terrible at this.”
“I think you need some homework,” I say.
“Homework?”
“Yeah, you need to reflect on tonight’s lesson.”
“Reflect?”
I chuckle. “Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”
Her mouth snaps closed, and her eyes blaze. And I just wanna tug her into this room and push her down on the bed. I want to kiss away that tentative look on her face. I want to make her forget all the bullshit her ex put into her head. That guy sounds like a piece of work. I can make her stop thinking about him. I can make her stop thinking, period.
But I won’t—not tonight. I’ve been awake for more than twenty-four hours, which means I’m equal parts horny and exhausted. I’d rush my time with her; I’d make her scream my name inside of ten minutes, and then I’d pass out like a beast.
That isn’t what she asked me for, though. And we have two weeks in the sunshine. What kind of asshole would I be if I didn’t teach her right? Seduction is all about anticipation. That’s why I spent the whole night torturing us both.
And yet she didn’t learn the lesson.
“Here’s your homework,” I tell her. “I want you lie down in your bed.” I point toward her room, like either of us could forget where it is, or how close we are to each other. “You’re going to lie down on those sheets and reflect on our time together tonight. What I did, and what I didn’t do—yet.”
