Page 16 of Willows and Waterlilies

“Hmm,” he mumbles as he looks out across the water, “that is mature of you, Ellie, though, after hearing this, I don’t think I want your forgiveness yet.”

“You don’t?” I turn to look at his handsome face with a furrowed brow of confusion. “Why not?”

“Because I haven’t yet earned it,” he says, as though it’s obvious. “And I don’t want you thinking of me as you do Jonathan and Blake.”

“You cannot earn something I’ve already given. And why don’t you want me thinking of you like I do Jonathan and Blake?” I ask with curiosity. “You all messed me about in some way.”

“True, but there are two major differences between those men and me,” he says with a mischievous smile. “One, if you were mine, I would never ever cheat on you; I’m much too intelligent to do such a thing if I already had you to come home to.”

“Wow, I think that’s one of the most romantic things anyone has ever said to me,” I reply, now with a beaming smile on my face. “And the whole ‘mine’ thing? Very sexy, Mr Woods.”

“Thank you,” he replies with his usual charm. “And two, I’m not content to let you go.”

“Let me go?” I ask for further clarification.

“Precisely,” he says as he places his hand on top of mine on the bridge railing. “You see, my asking you to come today isn’t totally unselfish.”

“It isn’t?” I repeat, sounding out of breath and a little nervous. He smiles with self-satisfaction over my reaction, then lifts his thumb to brush gently over my bottom lip.

Oh, dear God, you’re in trouble with this one, Ellie!

“No,” he simply replies, just before he leans in and ever so softly touches his lips against mine. So barely there, yet enough to cause my heart to free-fall to my knees.

“Oh, Christ, you’re the type of man who studies classics for fun,” I whisper, “taking in everything the hero says and does to add to his personal arsenal of seduction.”

“Exactly, you are completely at my mercy, Miss Russo,” he smiles with his lips still a matter of inches away from mine. “I know how to behave as a gentleman, and when to…”

Before he can complete that sentence, I feel his hands slip to my waist and pull me in, our lips finally meeting with a hunger for so much more. His mouth is soft, yet completely skilled to devour me with the most intoxicating kiss any man has ever given me. I half wonder if he has had lessons somewhere, perhaps at an old-fashioned burlesque club where the madam still dresses like a Victorian lady of the night. God, what he’s doing to my tongue is probably illegal in some places. A mixture of gentlemanly gentleness and animalistic dominance. Make of that what you will, I cannot explain it any other way. When he finally pulls back, he almost takes my lips with him, leaving me thirsty for so much more. Those kisses could make you a complete addict!

“…Not,” he says, finishing his declaration from before a kiss that was so deliciously perfect, I wish I had packed an extra pair of panties.

“Elijah, Ellie?” Joseph calls out from across the bridge. “Shall we grab a spot to eat? I hear they do a wonderful menu of the day.”

“Sure, Dad,” Elijah replies, still staring at me with a smile that has rendered me completely speechless. “We’ll meet you there in five minutes.”

“Righto!”

“Are you going to hurt me, Elijah?” I whisper, clasping my hands together to stop them from grabbing at him.

“Only in good ways,” he replies, standing to his full height and offering me his arm again. As we walk toward the restaurant, I begin to get my breath back, along with the feeling in my toes. “And now you, Ellie, can you see beyond the imbecile from that night? You say you’ve forgiven me, but that was when you only saw me as one of those other idiots who hurt you. What if I was to become something more?”

“Truthfully, I don’t know,” I reply, “but I don’t think that’s because of that night. I’ve just been lied to so many times, how can I not expect to be blindsided?”

“I understand,” he says thoughtfully, “I will just have to convince you that I won’tblindsideyou. Let me start by taking you out for dinner tonight. I know the perfect little place, not far from the Arc De Triomphe.”

“Of course, you do,” I tease. “And will this dinner be with gentleman you, or…the other you?”

“Gentleman me always comes out for the public,” he declares, “but perhaps other me will meet with you in private, after.”

“Can’t wait,” I murmur, just as we spot his parents at a table on the terrace.

“By the way, your nickname?” he says with a smirk on his face.

“Ah, yes,” I grin, “dinner and my nickname, I remember now. Do tell.”

“Alectrona,” he says, which, alas, only causes me to furrow my brow. He laughs at my reaction before pulling out a chair for me to sit on. “In Ancient Greece, she was the goddess of the morning; it seemed fitting.”

“Very good, Mr Earl Grey,” I giggle, “and as charming as one would expect from you.”

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