로그인*LORENZO*Danica is lying across me, head on my chest, her fingers tapping out a melody over my stomach. I don’t know what it is, but I’m enjoying it.I call the kitchen via the internal phone system. “Mona, I’d like some supper in my room. Can we have some sandwiches and a bottle of wine?”“Very good. Beef?”“Great. And a bottle of the Château Haut-Brion.”“I’ll leave a tray outside the door, sir.”“Thank you.” I smile at the blatant glee in her voice and hang up the phone. I don’t know why, but Mona knows that Danica is different. I’ve brought girls here before, but Mona’s never been as solicitous as she’s been today. She must know that I’m in love. Head over heels. Completely. Utterly. Wholly. In love.“You have a phone for inside the house?” Danica looks up at me.“It’s a big house.” I grin.
“Here, let me help you....” Taking hold of her hand, he plants a kiss in her palm. He moves it to his chest, and she splays it out against his skin, feeling his warmth. His lips part as he takes a sharp breath.“I like you touching me.”Encouraged, she moves her hand down, her fingers tickling the fine hair that’s sprinkled across his chest. She skims over one of his nipples, and it puckers under her touch.“Oh,” she breathes in delight.“Oh,” he responds, his voice hoarse, his eyes hooded and a dark, mossy green.He’s watching her like a hawk. She bites her upper lip, and he groans.“Don’t stop,” he whispers. Feeling more wanton and enjoying the fact that she’s turning him on, she moves her hand south over his smooth skin, over the bluffs and dips of his abdominal muscles.He tenses beneath her touch, and his breathing accelerates. She reaches the line of hair that
*LORENZO*I am itching to touch her. But I can’t. This is the most audacious she’s been with me since we first made love.My body is straining. How can her innocent touch be so erotic? She’s driving me wild. She eases my shirt over my shoulders and tugs it down to my elbows. I present her with my wrists.“Cuffs.”She flashes me a grin and undoes each one in turn, then drags my shirt off and drapes it over the armchair in front of the fire.“Now what are you going to do?” he says.*********Danica steps back to admire his fine, toned physique in the dancing light of the fire. The gold in his hair glints, and his eyes are a luminous green. They watch her, full of promise as he stares.Emboldened by his gaze, she reaches down and peels off her sweater, then tugs her football shirt over her head and shakes her hair loose. But her courage fails at the last minute, and she hesitates, holding the top to her b
“I was hurt,” she says after an age.“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. But where would you have gone?”“I don’t know.” She turns to face me. “I think it was...how do you say? Instinct. You know, Tomas and Julio...I’ve been running for so long. I was a little crazy.”“I can’t imagine how terrifying that was for you.” I cringe and close my eyes, thanking all the gods that I got to her in time. “But you can’t run every time we have a problem. Talk to me. Ask me questions. About anything. I’m here. I’ll listen. Argue with me. Shout at me. I’ll argue with you. I’ll shout at you. I’ll get it wrong. You’ll get it wrong. That’s all okay. But to resolve our differences, we have to communicate.”A fleeting look of anxiety crosses her face.“Hey.” I tilt her chin up and d
*LORENZO.*As I approach the bottom of the staircase, I hear the music. Danica is deep into another complex piece, one I don’t know.Even down here it sounds amazing. I quickly head up the stairs and stand just inside the room watching her from afar. I think this composition is by Beethoven. I haven’t heard her play any of his work before.A sonata, maybe? The music is rousing and passionate one moment and then quieter and softer the next. Such a lyrical piece. And she plays it exquisitely. She should be filling concert halls.The music spirals down to its close, and Danica sits for a second, her head lowered, eyes closed. When she looks up, she’s surprised to see me.“Another great performance. What was it?” I ask as I stroll across the floor toward her.“It is Beethoven. ‘Tempest,’ ” she says.“I could watch and listen to you play all day. But lunch is served. Rather late. You must be hu
*LORENZO*I watch, enthralled, as Danica plays the “Raindrop” Prelude. With her eyes closed, she’s lost in the music, her face expressing every thought and feeling that Chopin evokes in the piece.Her hair flows down her back, glinting like a raven’s wing in the light of the winter sun that streams through the window. She’s captivating. Even in that football shirt.The notes swell and fill the room...and my heart. She loves me.She said so.I’ll have to get to the bottom of why she thought she’d be better off leaving. But for the moment I’ll listen and watch her play. Hearing a muffled cough from outside the room, I look up.Mona and Jessie are poised on the threshold, listening. I wave them in....I want to show Danica off.This is what my girl can do.They tiptoe into the room and stand watching Danica with the same look of amazement that I’m sure I had when I first heard her play. A







