Ten Thousand Words (15 page)

Ollie

This woman had gotten me off three times already—twice last night and just now—and we hadn’t even had sex yet. Lucky me, I had brought my bag with clean underwear and overnight items.

We were lying on our backs, side by side, on the bed, panting for air.

“Fuck, woman, what have you done to me?” I asked around my gasps.

She snorted a laugh in reply.
Damn it, she was just so awesome.

While she had been out, taking care of business, I’d hauled arse to the closest pharmacy and stocked up on condoms. They were in my bag as well. As long as she gave me the all-clear, I was going to put them to good use. I hadn’t been this excited at the prospect of having sex in…Jesus, probably ten years.

Turning my head, I looked over at her, taking in her flushed cheeks. Her eyes were closed, and she had a cute little smile playing about her mouth.

“Do you like sushi?” I asked.

“Is that some sort of euphemism for asking me if I’ve had sex with women?”

My jaw dropped, and my brain went blank. Then, it surged with all sorts of naughty thoughts about my Xanthe Love getting nasty with other women. Although heavily turned on, I was freakishly jealous. I wasn’t going to share her with
anyone
.

She cracked up at the look on my face.

“I made reservations for us for sushi,” I replied, smiling. “At five.”

“I love sushi,” she told me.

“Can I ask a favor?”

“What’s that?”

“Will you dress up for me?”

A strange sadness filled her eyes, and she turned her head to look up at the ceiling. “I guess it’s a little embarrassing for you to be seen in public with me.”

Grabbing her hand, I protested, “Xanthe, no. That’s not what I meant. I just…I wanted to dress up for you, too. You’re perfect just the way you are. I was just thinking I could take you out on a real date.”

She nodded.

My heart ached. When I had first met her, sure, I’d thought she was a bit drab. The more I had gotten to know her though, I’d realized that she simply valued comfort over fashion. Now, I found her style charming and adorable—shabby chic. When we had gone to dinner on Monday, I’d seen that she did in fact wear nice clothes when the occasion called for it.

But I had just fucked up. I’d made her feel less than what she was. “Forgive me, sweetheart,” I whispered.

Xanthe was so strong, but I was finding that parts of her were as fragile as glass.

“Honestly, I—”

She smiled bravely for me. “It’s fine, Oliver.”

When she said my name, my heart swelled, and I felt nothing but joy. “If you don’t want to—”

“It’s fine. I’d love nothing more than to dress up for you.”

Pride inflated my chest. “Thank you.”

It was a little after three forty-five. Sitting up, I winced at the stickiness in my underwear. “Well, we should get ready then,” I said. “I’ll meet you in the lobby at four thirty?”

“Okay,” she replied.

Giving her a quick kiss, which I was happy to see put a smile on her face, I headed back up to my room. Feeling giddy, I needed to share the exuberance I had inside me. Peeling off my clothes, I simultaneously wiped myself up as I called Trey.

“Trey Fawkes speaking,” he answered the call.

“Hey.” I snickered.

“Oliver?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn it, the long distance doesn’t show your number. What’s going on?”

“I’ve got a date with Xanthe tonight—you remember, the woman I told you about?”

“The woman you wouldn’t shut up about? That Xanthe? I’m shocked,” he said dryly.

“Shut up. She’s not like the others.”

“So you’ve assured me. What I want to know is, are you ready for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, it’s not rocket science. Pose for photos, write my name on some shit—nothing I can’t handle.”

“Well, you’ve exploded over here. FairFawkes has gotten a mad amount of calls. You’re booked to do a shoot for Timeless Clockworks on Wednesday—”

“You’re shitting me! That’s awesome—”

“As a model. They want you to model the watches along with Gabriella.”

My heart sank. “What?”

“It’s the beard, Oliver. They think you’re the perfect combination of rugged manliness and sophistication. They saw the
Haunted Bonds
cover and thought you would be perfect for the campaign. They’re giving us a bunch of their watches.”

“Damn it, Trey—”

“I also got new bookings for your photography. Secret Desires wants you to shoot their new line of lingerie, so that has to make you happy. Barely dressed women will be rolling around on the floor for you,” he said the last sentence in a singsong voice, as if that would entice me further.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, a bakery wants you to take photos of their stuff. I don’t think there will be anything naked—”

“You’re such an ass.”

“And a new perfume line asked for you after they saw your sexy photos of Bianca. I think they want her, too.”

“Good.”

Trey gave off a sigh. “Oliver, this isn’t a bad thing. You know that, right?”

“It’s why I’m doing it,” I admitted grudgingly. “Now, can I just gloat that I have an amazing date planned with this woman tonight?”

Trey was silent for a moment, and then he said, “You really like her. Like, as in…
like
her.”

My face broke out into a huge smile. “I do.”

“Holy shit. You never really like anyone.”

“I know. I spent the night with her last night, and we didn’t even have sex.”

“Oh my God…are you serious about her then?”

“I’ve been meaning to discuss having a relationship with her, yes.”

“Shut the fuck up!” crowed Trey. “Holy shit—oh,
fuck
, Oliver. Gabriella’s going to be bloody livid. You know she wants to get serious with you, right? You’ve kind of been leading her on to think that there was a possibility—”

“The hell I have.”

“You’ve been fucking only her recently,” he pointed out.

“She’s been the only one around.”

“Uh, yeah. Why do you think that is?”

My mouth opened, and nothing came out.

“Damn it. This could get messy,” complained my best friend.

“I never told her I wanted anything more with her. She should have known better.”

“Maybe. Tell me what you have planned then.”

I spent another ten minutes on the phone with Trey, gushing over Xanthe and all her awesomeness.

“She sounds incredible. I can’t wait to meet her,” he told me.

A niggle of trepidation wormed around my heart. Xanthe wasn’t like the women we associated with. “Trey…” I said quietly.

“What?”

“She’s not like any of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean…I think she’s the most breathtaking creature, but she isn’t anything like Gabriella or Bianca or any of them. She doesn’t dress like them or even wear makeup if she doesn’t have to. I’m afraid—”

“Oliver?”

“What?”

“For you to really like this woman, she’d have to be someone who wasn’t anything like the others. If she were, then you wouldn’t have any interest in her. If she’s captivated you this much, I’ve no doubt I will adore her, too.”

The breath I’d been holding exploded loudly from my chest. “Thank you.”

“Go get ready for your date—and take some fucking pictures! You’ve posted next to nothing since you’ve gotten there! We all want to see what’s going on.”

“I haven’t really done much. I’ve been reading the book.”

“Oh, yeah? How is it?”

“It’s brilliant. Elaine H. Ford knows her writing.”

“I’ll have to read it then. Still bitter?”

“No.”

“You shouldn’t be. If Timeless wants any part of you, she’s done us a fucking favor. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Ollie

Dressed to impress in dark brown slacks and white button-down shirt, smelling good, beard and hair styled, I stood in the lobby, waiting for Xanthe once more. I hoped she’d like what she saw when she arrived. It’d been so long since I’d actually considered if a woman truly enjoyed the sight of me.

Impatient, I fiddled with my watch for something to do.

What will she look like? What will she transform into today?
I was excited to find out.

Looking out the glass façade of the hotel, out at the line of waiting taxis, I was lost in my thoughts when I felt a gentle touch on my arm. Quickly, I turned, my heart in my throat, and the sight of her knocked the breath from my lungs.

Xanthe.

“Hey,” she said, smiling brilliantly.

My eyes dazzled, and I could only stare. She was wearing a charcoal-gray pencil skirt that hugged her curves like a glove, brown knee-high heeled leather boots, and a matching brown belt with a white blouse tucked in. Without her hipster glasses, she had on a light layer of makeup that changed her eyes from the warm hazel into shimmering shades of gold and green.

My God, the woman
did
have a sense of style! She’d simply unleash it at times when she deemed it appropriate.

“Wow,” I breathed. “You…
você é linda
.
”

Her brows rose. “What does that mean?”

“You are beautiful. So very, very beautiful.”

Her cheeks glowed, and her smile doubled in size. “Thank you. You look quite handsome yourself.”

Taking the coat from her, I held it out for her to slip her arms into, and then I shrugged on my own before grabbing her hand and leading her outside to the taxis. She kept up a stream of pleasant banter, talking about her trip to Japan for an excavation with her father when she was fifteen and how she had fallen in love with the culture and the food.

Truly, I was paying attention, but I was just so enchanted with her. So smart and sexy, Xanthe was so fucking mind-blowingly out of my league at this very moment that I was a bit gobsmacked to be allowed in her presence.

Who is this woman?

Every moment spent with her cemented for me that I belonged with her. It was now obvious to me that I had never taken any other woman seriously because I had been waiting for the right one to show up. Over the course of four days, Xanthe had changed me into someone else, simply by being herself. This woman made me want to be the right man for her.

At the restaurant, seated in a quiet corner in a private booth, Xanthe immediately ordered warm sake.

“Just the one bottle tonight, okay?” I said softly.

Xanthe’s eyes glittered and hardened, which inflamed my lust for her even more. It promised to be a treat to attempt to tame her. I knew I’d never succeed.

“Why?”

Pitching my voice low, I said, “I want every decision we make from here on out tonight to be our own and not because we have a buzz going. Last night was fun. Tonight, I want more.”

Her pupils expanded. “Well, when you put it that way…”

“I know it’s not spontaneous, but I want to make my intentions perfectly clear. I need to know you want the same.”

She swallowed thickly. “I do.”

“Good. So…just the one bottle?”

“Sure.”

I nodded, happy that she’d agreed. We perused the menus in silence for a few minutes, which, for the first time, was uncomfortable for me. Glancing over the top of the menu, I found her looking at me.

“What?” I asked.

“I was just wondering where you went to university.”

“I went to the School of Visual Arts.”

Her eyes widened. “Here in New York?”

“Yes. I lived here for nearly four years. Photography and graphic design.”

“You’re well educated.”

“I suppose I am. Why?”

She shrugged. “It’s just nice that you really do understand all the things that I talk about. Not everyone gets me. Did you attend school in England?”

“We traveled a lot when I was young, so we had tutors. Most of the time, I wasn’t in an actual school, but I studied every day.”

“Your family must be very well-off,” she stated.

“My parents are quite wealthy, yes. What about you?”

“I grew up middle class. I got to travel because of my father’s job. He oversaw most of my education, but he got the curriculum from the school system. I went to Oxford for university, majored in literature and psychology.” She glanced back at the menu again.

“I really like spending time with you, Xanthe,” I told her.

Surprised, she looked up at me. “I like spending time with you, too, Oliver.”

“What are you thinking about?” I asked.

“If the spicy crunchy tuna roll is something I could share.”

I grinned. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Sounds dangerous,” she joked.

“No one has ever intrigued me like you have.”

“You say that now, but you have no idea how boring my life really is,” she said, laughing. “I hang out with four people, one of them well into her eighties. My roommate constantly bitches at me to get my arse out of the house, the bookshop, and his bar. If I’m not at any of those places, I’m hanging out in a tattoo shop.”

“So?”

“I watch historical documentaries—like, for
fun
.”

“Uh-oh.” I liked this teasing side of her. Loved it really.

“I have a cat named Beefcake.”

“He’s a manly cat, isn’t he?”

“He is,” she replied. “And wicked cute.”