Trust Me (35 page)

“I’ve already explained I can’t seem to remember them when I’m with you. It’s not my fault, it’s yours.”

“And how exactly do you see that?”

“Because you’re too damned sexy for your own good; I get wrapped up in what you’re doing and lose all common sense.” Sandra laughed as she watched him step to the trunk of the car and
open it, zipping his pants closed before reaching into the many bags stowed inside. He fished around until he found what he was looking for and closed the trunk, walking back to her and kneeling down in front of her. His warm hands caressed the back of her legs as he lifted them one at a time into the dark blue panties, smiling as he slowly slid them up her hips, caressing her exposed bottom.

“I’m glad you decided to buy these,” he said, adjusting the thin strap so it slid between her butt cheeks. “I love having your bottom exposed. It’s erotic.”

“Don’t ever tell Cathy I said this, but they really are quite comfortable and very sexy.” He watched her as she smoothed her skirt across her bottom and pulled her bra back around her chest and fastened it.

“I love your choice of under clothing,” he told her, running his hands across her bra cups “Soft, sexy and easy to get into.”

“You said you wanted them accessible, so I’m trying to be accommodating.”

“Good girl,” he said kissing her hard and passionate for several long moments. “I can’t believe how easy it is for you to excite me. I have never known a woman who can get under my skin the way you do.”

“I hope that’s a good thing?” she asked as he nuzzled her neck.

“Depends on hour sore you want to be,” he teased her, walking her to the passenger door holding it open while she sat back down. “Put that matching shirt on as well,” he ordered. “We have a schedule to keep and I don’t want you distracting me again.”

“You don’t?” she asked with a slight pout, listening to him laugh as he shut the door, walking around to the driver’s side.  He started the car again and pulled it back onto the dirt road.

“I can’t wait for you to be my wife so we can do things like this all the time.”

“We’re not married now and we do things like this all the time.”

“You love to torture me, don’t you?”

“Not at all, but this subject is getting a little old. I said I would think about a date and I will, but stop pushing or I’ll wait until our youngest child is in college to answer you.” Creighton reached across the car and brought her hand to his lips.

“Soon?”

“Before my vacation is over.”

“Good.”

Sandra looked out the side window as she readjusted her clothing and frowned. She understood not wanting to wait; she didn’t want to be away from him for a single moment either, but she had obligations at home. She had to decide which was stronger; her common sense or her heart.

Creighton
pulled the small black Mercedes to a halt at the front of a large, luxurious hotel and stepped out so the valet could park it. Sandra was amazed that such a grand place could be found among the old buildings of Loiret France. She felt a sudden twinge of excitement, thinking about the road that lay ahead of them. She was going to see Paris! She had always dreamed of going there, but never imaged being able to afford such a feat and now, this wonderful handsome man whom she had fallen hopelessly in love with was taking her there. She couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

“All right?”
he asked opening her car door.

“Better
than all right,” she said with a wide smile. He held his hand out for her to take, helping her out of the car as the teenaged bellboy arrived for their luggage. Creighton opened the trunk and tossed the keys to the valet.

“I
thought we could get some lunch before we visit Orleans.” Sandra’s smile grew as the excitement mounted.

“Sounds
wonderful.”

Sandra
followed Creighton into the hotel and up to the clerk who looked at them as they approached. The man was middle aged, gray hair covering his temples and scattered liberally though his short dark layers. He was tall, at least six feet and slender; his hands were large and brown and a thick gold wedding band circled his ring finger. He appeared very professional in his dark suit; white shirt and black tie tucked neatly inside his jacket.

Creighton
addressed the man in French and again Sandra felt left out. The only thing she recognized was the salutation Creighton offered the man;
Monsieur and Madam Ashford
. The man clicked the computer keyboard and smiled.

“
Qui,
Monsieur
Ashford
,” he said. “
Vous
êtes
dans
la
suite
présidentielle
suite.”

“
Très bien
,” Creighton answered retrieving the key card the man handed him and watched as the bellboy was motioned forward.

“What
was that all about?” Sandra asked when they stepped into the lift followed close behind by the boy and their bags.

“We’re
in the presidential suite,” he told her flatly. She remained silent for a few moments until the lift doors closed behind them, encasing them alone with the boy and the cart.

“What’s
the matter?” Creighton asked her softly and she shook her head, glancing in the mirrored walls surrounding them at the young man, who was obediently staring straight ahead.

“Mr.
and Mrs. Ashford?” she said with a frown.

“I
thought you didn’t speak French?” he teased with a warm smile.

“I
don’t, but there are a few things I can pick out of sentence. Why did you tell that man we were married?”

“Because,
there are a lot of places in France where people do not approve of single persons sharing a room, therefore, it is much easier than sneaking into each other’s room in the middle of the night, and frankly, I don’t like to sleep without you.”

“Is
that the only reason?” He frowned at her.

“I
would hope that eventually you would become accustomed to the name.” They remained silent as they continued their assent to the top floor of the hotel. The doors opened, and Creighton stepped out and into a large foyer, leaving Sandra to look at the sights in awe.

It
was luxurious; marble floor, rich dark wood crown molding, wainscoting and door casings, a large round table in the center of the floor, also of dark wood. Along the burgundy wallpaper that covered the walls were many ornately framed paintings of Loiret. A three-tier crystal chandelier hung over the table that held a crystal vase of brightly-colored flowers. Along the sides of the foyer were a dozen plush burgundy and gold upholstered chairs  and the two ends of the large hallway-style room  were encased in floor to ceiling windows. A long burgundy and gold carpet runner led the path to the door on the opposite side of the lift, welcoming to the rich and famous.

Sandra
glanced up to see Creighton waiting patiently by the table for her to join him, his handsome face smiling back at her. The bellboy had already stowed their luggage in the bedroom when the two stepped to the doorway and was ready to leave the suite. Creighton handed him a folded paper bill and thanked him, waiting for him to step into the lift, before gathering Sandra in his arms, kissing her passionately as he stepped across the threshold, kicking the door closed behind him. He smiled at her as he slowly slid her down the length of him until her feet touched the floor, chuckling at the color tinting her tanned cheeks.

“You
are lovely when you blush,” he told her. “And you blush all the time.”

“Bad
habit, I guess,” she answered shyly. “Why did you carry me over the threshold?”

“Because,
it’s good luck and even though we’ve been able to forget the real reason we’re here, the truth is we could use all the luck we can get.”

“Oh.
I thought it was a custom reserved for newlyweds.” Creighton laughed, kissing her behind the ear.

“You
are priceless,” he whispered, his hand sliding down to her bottom and squeezing gently. “I absolutely adore your innocence.”

“With
you around, I won’t be innocent for long,” she assured him as he caressed her buttocks. “What will you do when I’ve learned everything and you no longer love the innocence?”

“Is
that what you think, I’ll get bored with you and move on?” He shook his head. “Life doesn’t ever grow old or boring, as long as you share it with the person you love. There are always new adventures to keep the excitement alive.” Sandra smiled at the thought of sharing a lifetime of adventures with this man.

“I
love you Creighton,” she told him. “I’m just confused.” Creighton drew a deep breath, holding her around the waist.

“Our
first night together, were you scared, confused, unsure?” she nodded. “And what happened?”

“I
found out there wasn’t anything to be afraid of.”

“Exactly,”
he said. “What about last night when you fought so hard to not have an orgasm, were you weak? Did you give in to the pressure or did you control it?"

“I
controlled it.”

“That’s
what is happening now; you have to confront the fear and control it. That’s how life is, you either stand up to it and find a way to survive, or you give in and allow the confusion and the fear to consume you.”

“Will
you give me time to think if I promise to answer you by the end of the week?” He smiled at her, kissed her lips and nodded.

“Let’s
get some lunch and go to Orleans. I know with your thirst for romance and adventure, you’ll love the medieval village.”

Sandra
walked down the narrow streets of Orleans France; her hand securely tucked inside Creighton’s. The city was alive with excitement for the Joan of Arc Festival. Merchants of all kinds were dressed in medieval costume selling their wares on the streets and in the shops. The smells of food, pastries and sweets filtered through the air as they made their way through the streets. They paused by the statue of Joan of Arc where they had their photo taken by a local photographer for five euros, then toured Joan of Arc’s home. Afterward they visited several shops and stores in search for souvenirs.

Creighton
found a delicate hand knitted shawl for his mother and for his father, a pair of hand sewn leather gloves. Sandra bought Nana a needlepoint blanket and Papa a new riding crop, blushing as she paid for it. For Cathy, she bought a bottle of perfume and a pair of silver and crystal earrings. Creighton too bought perfume for Sabrina, a hand designed beaded bag for Irena; a book of art from Musée des Beaux-Arts for Andrew and a leather vest for Derek. He bought Kristine, Derek’s wife, an embroidered throw and for their children, Mandy, Spencer and Traci Anne, he bought a wooden train set, a china doll and a clown marionette. Sandra was having so much fun investigating the many small shops that she didn’t mind it when Creighton bought her a simple silver double heart necklace and a photo album that showed the many sites of France.

The
day was winding down as were the festivities and Creighton suggested that they dine at a restaurant near the Loire River where they enjoyed
seared white sturgeon
with
caviar beurre
blanc
,
'aupe a l'ail' de Tomates et Fromage
and
clafouti
for dessert. They sat on the veranda overlooking the river, sipping on
white Pinot Gris
and watched the tourists begin to make their way back to their hotels.

“Thank
you for today,” Sandra said placing her glass back on the table between them.

“You
are welcome, my love,” Creighton said with a warm smile, returning his glass to the table. “I knew you would love Orleans. It’s a very pleasant town, especially during the festival.”

“Think
you know me so well, do you?” she asked, causing him to chuckle.

“Better
than you could imagine,” he assured her with a wink. “Are you ready to go back to the hotel?” Sandra nodded.

“It’s
been quite a day,” she told him, watching the sparkle in his eye. “But again, every day with you is an experience.”

“I
thank you Madam,” he said bowing his head slightly before standing and reaching out to take her hand.

“What
time are we meeting your friends tomorrow?” she asked when they stepped out of the restaurant and back into the twilight. The air was warm and scented with the fragrance of the river, food and flowers. The aromas were delightful, playing on one’s senses and making them feel relaxed.

“Around
three o’clock, but I have to call them when we get to Paris. I thought we could leave Loiret midmorning; it shouldn’t take us more than about two hours to get to Paris and we need to check into the hotel by three.”