Deeper (The Real Fling) (5 page)

Understanding passed like a shadow over Val’s face. “Come on. I’ll be a perfect gentleman unless you say otherwise.”

“Otherwise?” Adriana whispered.

“Is that an offer?” Val helped her up.

‡

Val’s place was an A-frame
chalet nestled in the woods on the west edge of town. Just inside the front door a knotted-pine stairway hugged the left wall, probably leading to the bedrooms. To the right of the stairs was a sunken living room complete with a stone fireplace and exposed wooden support beams. Beyond that were a wall of windows, or sliding glass doors, to be precise.

The home smelled like him. Clean, warm and cozy. And something else…chocolate. There were dishes of chocolate Kisses on every flat surface she turned toward. “Val, this is gorgeous.” Adriana held up a Kiss. “I love the way you decorated.”

“Would not be home without chocolate.” Val dropped her backpack at the base of the stairs and walked into the kitchen, which was past the stairs and to the left. “Make yourself comfortable. I got us a couple of burgers. I’ll heat them up.”

“When’d you do that?” Drawn to the windows, she slipped out of her boots and stepped into the living room. Above the fireplace was a huge flat screen TV. She walked to the glass wall while trailing her finger along the back of the overstuffed red couch.

“When you were in the ladies’ room.” Glasses clinked.

He was presumptuous as well as stubborn. “And if I didn’t come home with you?”

He shrugged. “More for me. Would you like some wine? I have a great red.”

I’m just staying for dinner.
“Sure, whatever you want.” The hot tub was off to the right on the large deck. “Is this your home?”

“No, it’s a friend’s.” Val came up behind her and helped her take off her jacket.

“I got it.” Adriana tried to shimmy out of it herself but couldn’t manage it.

“Take it easy.
I
got it.” He dropped her jacket on the back of the matching loveseat and placed a large flat ice pack on her shoulder between her sweater and thermal without ever looking away from her. “Twenty minutes on, twenty off.” Lust flamed his eyes as he stared at her lips while moistening his own. But his expression was tortured as if he were struggling to deny his desire for her.

Adriana swayed dizzily, as her body flooded with an acute longing that was alien to her. She’d never felt this strongly about anyone before. Val anchored her elbow, but just when she thought he was going to kiss her, he pivoted and picked up two goblets on a nearby side table. He must’ve put them there when he walked over. He handed her one, clinked his glass to hers and then took a long sip. She mirrored him, happy for something to put between them while she steadied herself. The Cabernet was good, and she savored it before swallowing.

“You like wine.” His focus was sharp and unwavering.

“I do. My father’s an oenophile. He taught me early. I was raised on wine. Probably drank it more than milk.” She rolled the stem of her wineglass between her fingers and held the goblet up to the light. “Nice legs.”

“Yes, they are.” His brow bobbed as he leaned back, taking her in slowly and sending coils of heat through her system. Or was that the wine?

Her cheeks burned. “You probably grew up on vodka.”

Curt nod. “I was weaned on vodka.” His eyes were locked on hers, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was devouring her whole body at the same time.

It was exhilarating to be in the glow of his attention. He’d shed his ski jacket. He smelled divine, sandalwood, and musk, combined with chocolate, and his unique Val spice, which was more appealing than anything she’d ever experienced before. She wanted to bathe in him. A tremor went through her.

“Sorry.” Val put his glass down and stepped into the living room. “Let me start a fire.”

Adriana wasn’t cold. Not even close.

He built the fire in minutes, crisscrossing logs and wedging newspaper and smaller pieces of kindling in between. She settled on the couch opposite him, watching him work. He was vibrant and nimble, nothing seemed to be too heavy or out of his reach. And he had the thickest thighs she’d ever seen. They were strong and corded like a ballet dancer’s. He even seemed to move to some silent beat.

“Val?”

“Hmmm?” He was almost done.

She traced the rim of her glass with her finger. “Do you dance?”

Picking up a long red lighter, he turned to look at her. “Dance? Like free style or hip-hop or something?” He was laughing.

She bit her lower lip. “No, like ballet.”

“Why? Because I was born in Russia?”

It was too late to back out of the conversation. “No.” She sat up straighter. “Not at all. It’s your…body. Your cadence.”

“Cadence?”

“Yeah, I’m probably not using the word right, but you have a dancer’s rhythm. A coiled power and vibrancy, like you could spring up and do one of those toe thingies the ballet dancers do or leap, legs in a hyperextended spread eagle.” Her cheeks were burning. “Even the way you lifted me was poetic.”

He didn’t even try to hide his amusement.

“Never mind.” She shook her head. “You’re laughing at me again.”

“Not at all. Continue.” He sat next to her.

“No.” Pain stabbed her as she tried to fold her arms across her chest.

Val shifted in the seat next to her. He bent his left leg on the couch, resting his shin against her thigh, and then took the ice pack off and gently massaged her right biceps, slowly moving up to her joint.

Adriana stiffened.

“I won’t hurt you.”

Wrong. This can’t end well.
But I can’t stop. Don’t want to. Must be what a moth feels like before it’s singed irreparably by the enthralling flame.
She watched him warily.

“I’m serious. You can trust me. Lay your head back on the cushions.” Val worked her muscles like he was a masseuse.

After a minute or two she gave into the sensation. Whatever he was doing was helping.

“No,” he answered.

Adriana turned toward him in question.

“I never danced ballet. I have been known to make a fool out of myself every now and then at a party, but that is the extent of my poetic prowess.”

She shut her eyes and leaned her head back again. “You missed your calling.”

Chuckling lightly, he continued working on her shoulder. “Is that what you like?” There was no mistaking the thirst in his voice.

“Hmm?” She was too comfortable to move.

“Men who dance ballet?”

“Nah, just the ones who look like they do.”

A buzzer sounded. He kissed her shoulder so softly she almost missed it and put the ice pack back inside her sweater. “Dinner is ready.”

Taking his outstretched hand, she followed him.

The kitchen was small but lovely. Stainless steel appliances with light wood pine cabinets. There was an island on the near edge with three bar stools. Val held a chair out for her. He had set the counter complete with placemats and candlesticks. He lit a fresh candle and plated their food. Bacon cheeseburgers, crispy French fries, and onion rings.

“Thanks. This is nice. My stomach was too upset to eat before.” Adriana cut her burger in half and loaded it with ketchup and pickles. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since dinner last night.

“Pain will do that to you. But you still have to eat.” Anguish lined Val’s expression.

“You know that firsthand.” She took a bite and wiped her face with her napkin.

His jaw tensed as he raked his hand through his hair. Instead of speaking, he took the biggest bite of his burger she’d ever seen. He chomped down on practically half of it, his cheeks bulging out worse than a bullfrog. She would’ve laughed but for his clear anxiety.

Grabbing his arm, she tried to yank the burger away from him.
Whoa.
If his biceps felt this good, what was the rest of him like? “All right, you don’t have to shove the whole thing in there. Subject over.” Reluctantly, she let go of him. “Is Russia a safe topic?”

His expression softened.

“Well?” Adriana took a bite of her pickle.

The light in his eyes danced. “Well, what?” He bit his bottom lip.

“Tell me about Mount Elbrus. I’ve never been to Russia.” She ate a few fries.

He refilled her wine. “It’s the highest mountain in Europe. In the Caucasus.”

Adriana pursed her lips.

“Right. You knew that.” Lowering his lids, he sipped his wine. “My parents owned a resort near the slopes. But I was young when we left.” He stared at her like he was trying to seduce her thoughts away.

“That must have been hard leaving your friends and coming here.”

“Took some getting used to.” Val licked his bottom lip while concentrating on hers.

“Did you even speak English?”

“Yes, my father made us learn before we came to Colorado.” Val tensed and looked away.

A chill went through her. It felt like she was walking on thin ice. “Here?” She sat back.

His eyes seemed to lose their luster.

“So this is home for you?”

A muscle in his cheek twitched. He seemed to be concentrating carefully on his breathing as if he were trying to stay afloat. “It was.” He pushed his plate forward.

“Wait, where’s your dad? You said your mother and sisters are in New York. Did they divorce?”

“No.” He downed his wine like it was a shot. “He passed away.”
Crash
, his mood plummeted into the icy depths.

“Oh, Val.” Adriana touched his arm. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

He squirmed in his seat, fighting for control. He refilled their glasses.

Craving him, she inched closer. She wanted desperately to soothe him, this gentle soul. Jolts arced between them before they touched, but multiplied exponentially once they kissed. His mouth was soft, firm and insistent. She licked his lips, willing them to part for her. They did and she explored his mouth in light strokes. Fire sizzled through her. She tangled her hand in his glossy hair and drew him closer. He was salty like the ketchup, dark and heady like the wine, and sweet like chocolate.

Val caressed her cheeks and sucked on her tongue, sending the hottest blue-white flames up through her veins. He was gentle at first, slowly savoring every inch of her. But after a moment or two, something inside of him let go, and he kissed her hungrily with an unquenchable thirst. Their tongues mated in a frenzied dance that brought her desire, which had been simmering since she met him, to a full boil. A soft sigh escaped her as she crushed into him.

Abruptly, he broke the kiss, backing up just enough to glance at her, while wiping the corner of his lips with his thumb and forefinger. He was struggling for balance, his breathing as ragged as hers. “Do not start something you don’t want to finish,
printsessa
.” His mouth curved into a smile so sensual Adriana felt touched all over.

Val exhaled and cleared the dishes away. Adriana closed her eyes and finished her wine. Her body was aching for him.

With the dishes in the sink and the table cleared, he took her hand. “Let’s take a soak.”

“You want to go into the hot tub to cool off?” She raised her brow. “Where’s the logic in that?”

“Come on.” He drew her toward the stairs.

She stiffened.

“What?”

She hadn’t thought this through. “I don’t have a bathing suit.” Her face was heated.

“That did not seem to bother you a minute ago.” Val’s eyes sparkled and his lip curled slightly.

With a nervous laugh, she tugged free of him. A kiss was one thing, but naked in a hot tub wasn’t happening.

He took her hand again. “I’ll give you a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.”

At the stairs he picked up her backpack, and they went up. The landing opened to the master bedroom. A king-size bed, decked in red flannel bedding and oversized pillows, sat against the left wall and faced another stone fireplace. Windows facing the mountains were on the far side of the room.

“You have a fireplace in your bedroom.” She walked toward it. There was a large furry black rug in front of the hearth.

“The bathroom is on the other side.” He pointed to the right.

She went inside. It was huge, with a soaking tub in front of more windows and a double shower. The dark brown granite shimmered gold and silver. “There’s a skylight over the tub.”

He moved behind her. “I love this bathroom.”

“Of course, it’s your favorite color.” She turned, not realizing he was so close, and then took a step back. “Chocolate.”

Val left her a moment and returned with a dark-blue shirt and jersey shorts. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

Adriana stiffened as Val reached over and unzipped her overalls and pulled the straps off her shoulder. He nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, she removed her pants. It was a slow process but eventually she shimmied out of them, her long johns, and panties. Val’s shorts were big, but thankfully they had a drawstring waistband which she tied tight. Good thing she’d had her legs waxed before she left New York or her dark hair would have been ugly.

Crisscrossing her arms, she attempted to twist her sweater off and cried out in pain, doubling over.