The Place I Belong (21 page)

“Oh my goodness!” she breathed.

A set of stone steps led downward in a graceful curve. On each step stood a flickering white pillar candle casting a warm glow onto the pale stone walls.

“These lead to the wine cellar,” Adam explained, putting his hand against the small of her back and guiding her onto the first step. “Of course, this is the decorative entrance. The sommelier uses the back stairs.”

Hannah followed the gentle spiral downward, admiring the embossed, silver urns set in niches along the wall. “It’s like walking from the twenty-first century into a medieval castle.”

“You’re in the ballpark. The steps are from a fift
eenth-century
French chapel that was being torn down to make way for an apartment building.”

“Who uses this?”

“Private parties who want a different atmosphere or who like being surrounded by wine.”

The bottom of the staircase opened out into a hallway paved with the same stones. Carved wooden benches with red velvet cushions stood at intervals along the walls, interspersed with standing brass candleholders. “Are those the pews from the chapel?” Hannah asked.

“Yes, and so are the candelabras.”

She traced her finger over a carving of a flower on the nearest bench. “You can feel the age of these. It’s a wonderful contrast to the modernity of upstairs.”

He steered her toward a set of heavy, dark doors farther down the hall, stepping around her to push them open.

The room in front of her glowed gold with the light of dozens of candles. They lined a ledge along one wall, stood on tall floor stands arranged around a circular table, and lit an arrangement of bronze calla lilies and bittersweet on the table. A fire burned in a large, stone fireplace, making the rich blues and maroons of the thick Oriental rug come alive with moving light. Behind a wall of glass to her right, rack upon rack of cradled bottles extended away into the darkness.

When she looked back at him, his eyes held the reflection of the candle flames.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. And achingly romantic, but she wasn’t going to voice that thought. Perhaps he considered it nothing more than a worthy setting for his gourmet food. After all, he hadn’t strewn rose petals all over the floor.

He drew her to the table and pulled out a chair for her. Then he reached into a silver ice bucket and pulled out a champagne bottle. She watched the deft movements of his hands as he removed the wire basket and twisted the cork out with a subdued pop, losing not a drop of the sparkling liquid. She caught a glimpse of the distinctive Dom Perignon label. It was the champagne Ward had ordered the night he proposed to her. The candles seemed to dim but not the irksome memory, and she grabbed the intricately folded linen napkin from beside her decorative charger to shake it open with a snap.

Adam looked up from pouring the champagne into the slim, crystal flute at her place.

“Sorry,” she said, draping the linen over her lap. Adam wasn’t trying to impress her. He genuinely loved the taste of the things he served. She shoved Ward back into his cage and smiled.

Adam filled her glass before picking up a carafe of water to pour in his own flute. Lifting it, he saluted her in a toast. “To the brilliant veterinarian who saved Matt’s whisper horse.” He took a swallow.

Hannah shifted in her seat. “I don’t want to be gloomy, but Satchmo has a way to go before he’s out of the woods.”

Adam sat down and shook his head. “You wouldn’t be here if you thought he was in any danger.”

It was true. The pony was still weak, and it remained to be seen if there was permanent neurological damage of any kind, but together the three of them had convinced Satchmo to fight back against the disease. “I didn’t do it alone. You and Matt contributed just as much.”

“We were only the foot soldiers. You were the five-star
general
.”

She picked up her own glass. “Let’s drink to the foot soldiers,” she said, reaching over to clink it against his.

The dry, elegant fizz of the champagne made her close her eyes as it slid over her tongue and down her throat. She wasn’t going to let the memory of Ward ruin a good drink.

She opened her eyes to find Adam lounging back in his chair, watching her. He’d taken off his leather jacket to reveal a black shirt, open at the neck. The candlelight turned his skin to shimmering gold, and even the waves of his dark hair caught glints of the warm light. Longing tightened her throat. She took a gulp of champagne to wash it away.

A faint look of dismay crossed his face, and she knew he was inwardly cringing at her lack of appreciation for a fine wine. She took a more sedate sip and was rewarded with a nod of approval.

He sat forward and reached for the handle on top of a silver dome, removing it with the flourish of a magician. A graceful, silver-footed dish stood in the middle of the tray. Its bowl was packed with crushed ice around a cut-crystal dish of silvery gray caviar. “Beluga,” he said.

Her gaze met his, and she blushed at the memory of their first discussion of caviar. The flames reflected in his eyes seemed to flare hotter. “I’ve been saving it for you,” he said, his voice low.

Now the images of their night together whirled through her mind, and she felt the longing turn to something stronger.

He reached for the mother-of-pearl spoon sitting on the tray and picked up a triangle of exquisitely thin toast with no crust, spooning a little hill of the shining, round eggs onto it.

Leaning forward, he offered the toast to her. She looked at his hand with its crisscrossing scars.

In a moment of daring, she shifted forward in her chair, opening
her mouth instead of taking his offering in her hand. She heard the intake of his breath before he brought the food to her lips. She closed her eyes and felt him place it on her tongue. Closing her mouth, she bit into the roe, feeling the explosion of briny flavor against her palate. “Mmm,” she said, rolling it on her tongue. “Mmm.” She chewed and swallowed before opening her eyes. “Amazing!”

His hand was still stretched across the table, and his gaze was fixed on her face. She didn’t move as he slowly raised his fingers to trace down the side of her cheek and along her jaw line before he brushed them over her lips. “Hannah,” he murmured.

“Yes,” she said, his voice and touch sending ropes of heat spiraling down between her legs.

He shoved out of his chair and strode around the table to come up behind her. She started to rise but he put his hands on her shoulders to hold her in place. “Wait,” he said, sliding his hands under the collar of her blazer and pushing it down her arms, his thumbs caressing the silk of her blouse as the jacket slipped downward. His mouth was on the side of her neck, just below her earlobe, his lips slightly chilled from the cold water he’d drunk. They warmed quickly as she tilted her head to let him move more freely over her skin. Waves of sensation radiated downward, making her nipples harden.

He must have seen her reaction through the thin fabric because he brought his hands down from her shoulders to cup her breasts. “Oh, yes,” she said as the pressure of his palms sent arousal streaking through her. She grabbed the arms of her chair and pushed into his touch.

Then it wasn’t enough to have him touch her through her blouse and she let go of the chair to rip the buttons out.

His mouth opened against her neck and she felt the flick of his tongue. Then he pushed his fingers underneath the lace of her bra to roll her nipples, and she arched up out of the chair on a gasp of mindless pleasure. He pulled one hand loose from her bra to move it down between her legs, rubbing against the denim of her jeans.

“Adam,” she said, the three points of his touch spreading pleasure and yearning through her body like a wildfire.

He opened the front catch of her bra and bent over her shoulder to bring his lips to her bared nipple. His mouth was hot and wet, and the swirl of his tongue against her skin brought her up from the chair again as he sent need coiling tighter and tighter inside her.

She reveled in his stroking until she felt an orgasm rising. “Not without you,” she said, releasing the chair and nudging his head away from her breast. As he straightened, she turned and knelt in the chair, seizing the buckle of his belt and unfastening it. As she unzipped his trousers to free his erection, he unbuttoned and shrugged out of his shirt. His bare chest caught her attention and she ran her hands up his flat abdomen, feeling the dusting of dark hair under her palms. She surged up to lick one of his nipples. He wrapped his fingers around her shoulders to hold her there, his head falling back as he breathed out her name.

She slid one hand downward to encircle his cock while she lapped at his other nipple. He jerked in her hand. She cupped his balls and moved her mouth to the triangle at the base of his throat, exploring the hollow with her tongue. A tang of salt and a hint of lemon lingered on her taste buds. A vibration almost like a growl came from within him.

His grip on her shoulders tightened and he set her on her feet before he hooked his ankle around the chair leg and kicked it away. Crushing her against him, he locked his mouth against hers and drew her into an exploration that almost distracted her from the pressure of her breasts against his skin and his erection against her stomach. She felt him kneading her bottom through her jeans and she wanted to feel his fingers on her skin. Working her hands between them, she pushed away from him.

He eased his grip and lifted his head. “Too much?”

“Not enough,” she said, working the button of her waistband loose.

His smile was sinful as he watched her unzip her jeans and shimmy out of them. She deliberately left her heels and lacy panties on. She grabbed the waistband of his underwear, shoving both them and his trousers downward. “Can’t you take a hint?”

“I was mesmerized,” he said, slipping off his loafers and stepping out of his clothes to stand spectacularly naked.

“Now
I’m
mesmerized,” she said, watching the shadows play over the curves of muscle as the candles and fire flickered.

He reached out to hook his fingers into each side of her panties. “These are blocking my view,” he said, slowly dragging them downward over her hips before letting them drop to the floor.

She fought the urge to cover herself as his gaze focused between her legs. He sank to his knees, curling his fingers into her buttocks to pull her toward him before he nudged her thighs apart and worked his tongue against her.

She grabbed his shoulders to balance herself on her high heels as a maelstrom of sensation spun through her. Before he could drive her to climax, she dug her nails into his shoulders and shook him. “I want you with me,” she said when he dragged his mouth away from her.

He threw a glance around the room. “There’s a couch in
my offic
e.”

“There’s a nice thick rug here,” Hannah said, leaning on his shoulders as she lowered herself onto her knees in front of him.

“I wasn’t expecting this,” he said. “Not this fast.” He wrapped his arms around her and drew her in for a kiss. She could taste herself on his lips.

“Please tell me you have a condom,” she said.

His smile flashed in the candlelight as he snagged his trousers and rummaged in the pockets before holding up two foil packets.

“Thank goodness,” she said, taking one envelope and ripping it open. She took her time rolling the condom onto him, enjoying the hoarseness of his breath as she stroked his erection.

“Let me be your bed,” he said, tumbling them sideways before he rolled onto his back with her draped on top of him.

He flexed his fingers into her hips, urging her up and back. She put her forearms on his chest and pushed herself upward, feeling a strange sense of shyness about straddling him. Then he lifted her hips up to position her above his cock, its head just touching her.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his gaze burning into hers.

“Yes,” she whispered.

He pulled her down and thrust upward at the same time, seating himself deeply inside her. The sense of being filled brought a momentary satisfaction before she tightened her inner muscles around him, giving herself a burst of pleasure and making Adam moan.

He allowed her a few seconds to adjust before he began to move, tilting his hips as he guided her up and down in a rhythm that wound the ball of sensation in her belly into a knot of pure want. She leaned forward to rest her hands on his shoulders, changing the angle of their joining so the friction grew stronger. The feel of his skin stretched over muscle under her palms, the huff of his warm breath against her neck, and the driving of his cock sent pleasure spinning through her. She came down hard and arched backward as an orgasm blossomed in the depths of her body and exploded outward like a supernova. She choked out his name as her muscles clenched and clenched again
around him
.

She felt him shift and thrust hard into her before he arched up under her, his shout of completion echoing off the glass and stone walls. She held herself still so she could feel him pumping inside her.

When they were spent, he cradled her on his chest, stroking one palm down her back. She lay sprawled on him, her legs splayed over his hips, all shyness burned away. What was left was a profound sense of satiation and bone-deep contentment.

“Is caviar an aphrodisiac?” she murmured against his throat.

“For you it is,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “I’ll have to stock up.”

“That could get expensive,” she said, remembering the price on Ward’s menu.

“Worth every penny.” He gave her butt an affectionate caress. “Besides, it only required one bite to take effect, so my supply will last a long time.”

She twined the fingers of one hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, exploring the thick, waving texture. His chest rose and fell underneath her, so the still-tight tips of her nipples tingled at the slight changes in pressure. It was a languid, undemanding pleasure, and she sighed at the deliciousness of it.

Then the doubts skittered in. She was playing Cinderella at the ball again, believing this brilliant, successful, gorgeous man wanted her above all other women. He was just grateful to her for helping him with his son. She must have shifted as she wrestled with her nasty little demons.