Uncovering Annabelle (6 page)

“Thank you, they’re beautiful.” The response
was automatic but heartfelt as she took the offering and buried her
nose in the dainty flowers. No man had ever given her flowers
before. Tears formed in her eyes. She swallowed the lump in her
throat and turned away before Mike could see how much his gift had
touched her. “I’ll just put them in water.”

Hoping she’d have time enough to regain her
composure, she disappeared into the kitchen, still clutching the
bouquet tightly to her chest. Violets were her absolute favorite
flowers. She loved the color and the texture of them and on rare
occasions bought them for herself. Had Mike asked at the nearby
flower shop or had it been a lucky guess? She chewed her bottom lip
as she contemplated the fact that the florist might know that Mike
was buying them for her. Better for her peace of mind if she
assumed it was a lucky guess.

She set the bundle on the counter and
rummaged around the cupboard until she found a small Mason jar. She
had a vase, but somehow it didn’t seem to fit with the delicate
wildflowers. She was careful as she removed the plastic wrapper and
placed the flowers into the makeshift vase before adding water.
Using a kitchen towel, she dried her hands and dabbed at her
eyes.

They were such a thoughtful and totally
unexpected gift. She absently rubbed the area over her heart before
taking a deep, fortifying breath and picking up the arrangement.
Emotions firmly under control, she carried the flowers back to the
living room and set them on the coffee table.

Mike reached out and folded his fingers
around hers. “You look beautiful.” He used his grip on her hand to
twirl her in a circle. The hem of her dress swirled around her
legs.

“Thank you.” She noted that his eyes were
drawn to her breasts and she was suddenly uncomfortable. It was one
thing to want to be the center of Mike’s sexual attention. It was
quite another to actually experience it.

He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed
her knuckles. One at a time, his lips skimmed over them. Then his
tongue slid between each one, licking each finger. His tongue was
warm and moist against her skin. Finally, he captured her middle
finger in his mouth and sucked on it even as his teeth carefully
scraped the sides.

Annabelle was uncomfortable for an entirely
different reason. Never would she have believed her fingers could
produce such a sensual reaction in her. They were fingers. Everyone
had them, but what Mike was doing to them made them feel entirely
different. It was exactly like what had happened this afternoon
when he’d touched her neck. When Mike touched her, ordinary body
parts became centers of pleasure.

The sensations from her finger traveled up
her hand and then flowed through her entire body, leaving her skin
hot and prickly. Her breasts were heavy, her clothing confining. An
ache grew between her legs. She felt empty and needy. Annabelle
closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the sexual teasing.

“Nothing will happen that you don’t want to
happen,” Mike murmured in between caresses. “You have my word.”

Annabelle nodded, unable to speak. She
opened her eyes to find Mike staring at her, totally focused on her
reaction. Seeming satisfied with her response, he released her
finger and kissed the palm of her hand before finally releasing
her.

“We’d better get going or we’ll be late for
our dinner reservations.” Mike placed his hand on the small of her
back and guided her toward the front door. Annabelle had the
presence of mind to collect a light sweater, along with her purse
and keys. She shut the door firmly behind her and locked it. With
any luck she wouldn’t be coming home alone tonight—that is, if she
managed to make it home at all.

Chapter
Four

Mike seated Annabelle at their table at
Gino’s, an upscale Italian restaurant and one of the nicer places
in town. The food was delicious and the atmosphere laid-back. Mike
was thankful that he’d had the forethought to call ahead and
request a secluded spot in a quiet corner. This table suited him
perfectly. Tucked away in a darkened corner, lit by soft lighting
and candlelight and partially hidden by potted plants, it had
privacy that most of the others lacked.

The table was draped with a crisp white
tablecloth, which flowed almost to the floor. Linen napkins, fine
china and crystal adorned the top. A single red rose floated in a
cut glass bowl, while a fat white pillar candle glowed from a
silver holder. Annabelle looked right at home in such an elegant
setting.

With her hair coiled up and her long flowing
dress, she looked sweet and alluring, ethereal, like something out
of a painting. And totally untouchable. That is, until you noticed
the bright colors of the flowers on her dress, which hinted at the
passionate woman hiding beneath the demure clothing.

When he’d picked her up this evening, he’d
immediately noticed that the dress was pulled tighter than usual,
showcasing her gorgeous breasts to perfection. Most surprising was
the impulse he’d had to loosen the belt or cover her with a wrap.
He didn’t want any other man getting a glimpse of those lush
breasts. In all his years, Mike had never felt this possessive over
a woman. And they’d done nothing more than kiss.

His own nervousness had caught him by
surprise. He’d dated frequently over the years, but not seriously.
The women he dated were looking for the same thing he was—some fun
and the occasional sexual romp. He enjoyed women and treated them
well.

This attraction to Annabelle was different.
Never in his life had he put so much effort into getting a date
with a woman. Well, not since Anna White in tenth grade. But this
went way beyond anything he’d ever felt before.

The strange thing was, rather than worry
about it, he was reveling in it. Maybe it had something to do with
the fact that he’d turned thirty-four a few months back. He owned
his own company, had a home and friends, but now he wanted
more.

Maybe he’d simply been waiting for
Annabelle. He was smart enough to look beyond a woman’s appearance
to what lay beneath. Annabelle had substance. Not that she wasn’t
pretty. She was, but it was an understated beauty that would only
get better with age.

He’d taken it upon himself to learn as much
as he could about her, without being too obvious about it. Bringing
up her name casually in conversation with friends had given him
some information, and all of it confirmed what he felt about her.
Annabelle was a kind, intelligent, giving woman. Everyone who knew
her liked her, men and women, young and old, and everyone in
between.

Right now, she was beginning to look
uncomfortable and he realized he’d been quietly staring at her.
That wouldn’t do. He wanted her to relax, to feel as though she
could let go and be herself around him.

“Have you eaten here before?” Casual
conversation would put her at ease, and besides, he really wanted
to know everything there was to know about this fascinating
woman.

Annabelle smiled shyly. “No. I’ve wanted to
try it, but it seemed to be the kind of place you’d wait and go
with someone special.”

Before Mike could comment, their waiter
arrived at their table with menus. After the waiter took their
order for two glasses of white wine and told them the specials, he
left them alone to peruse the menus. Mike made some suggestions,
having eaten here before, and by the time the waiter returned with
their drinks and a basket of warm yeasty bread and fresh butter,
they had made their selections.

“We’ll both have garden salads to start with
and the lady will have the spaghetti.” Mike collected Annabelle’s
menu and handed both of them back to the waiter. “I’ll have the
lasagna.” The waiter took their order and left.

Annabelle sipped nervously at her drink. “I
hope the pasta doesn’t have too much garlic. It makes my breath
awful.” She set her wineglass down with a thump and buried her head
in her hands. “I can’t believe I said that.” She looked at him
imploringly. “Please tell me I didn’t say that.”

Mike laughed. He couldn’t help himself. “You
said it, but I thought it as well.” He motioned to the basket of
bread sitting in the middle of the table. “Why do you think that’s
not garlic bread?”

Annabelle giggled and then smiled at him. In
that moment, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. If he
lived to be a hundred, he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of
looking at her.

That lighthearted exchange set the tone for
their evening. They both relaxed and talked about their work and
the goings-on in town. Mike was both surprised and pleased to
discover that Annabelle knew his company specialized in renovations
and building the occasional custom home. He found himself telling
her about the projects he was working on at the moment. She was so
good at drawing him out they had eaten half their meal before he
realized she’d said little about herself.

He pointed his fork at her. “I know what
you’re doing.”

“What am I doing?” She seemed bewildered by
his accusation.

“You’re being such a good listener that I’m
doing all the talking.” He laid down his fork, reached across the
table and took her hand. “I want to know about you.”

Annabelle swallowed hard. “There’s not much
to tell.” She seemed apologetic. “I’m not that interesting.”

“You are to me.” Mike released her hand and
sat back to study her for a moment. He knew that she believed what
she said, and he could only shake his head in wonder. “I want to
know all about you. Your hopes. Your dreams.” His voice lowered.
“Your fantasies.”

Annabelle suddenly seemed fascinated by the
food left on her plate. She moved the spaghetti around with her
fork, but didn’t scoop up any to eat. This was interesting. Had she
indulged in fantasies about him? She’d certainly played a leading
role in all the ones he’d had for the past few months. The trick
would be getting past her natural reserve to the passionate woman
underneath.

The thought of being the man on the
receiving end of her natural sensuality aroused him and made his
pants way too snug for comfort. “Annabelle, look at me.” He waited
until her gaze met his. “Anything we say to each other stays
between us. No one else will ever know.”

Annabelle hesitantly nodded, squared her
shoulders and opened her mouth to speak, when the waiter suddenly
appeared. Mike wanted to bang his head on the table in frustration,
but refrained, knowing that Annabelle would think he’d lost his
mind. And maybe he had, because all he could think about was having
this woman in his life. In his bed.

Mike hung on to his patience while the
waiter cleared the table and brought them coffee. Neither one of
them wanted dessert. Annabelle added sugar to her coffee and stir
it endlessly. He cleared his voice. “Annabelle?”

Annabelle gave him a wry smile. “You don’t
give up, do you?”

“Not when it’s something I want. And I
really want you.” He watched her absorb his statement. He could
tell she wasn’t quite sure if she could believe him or not.
Finally, after some internal debate, she seemed to come to a
decision.

“I was an only child to older parents. I was
quiet, did well in school and went away to college.” When Mike
nodded encouragingly she continued. “I had one relationship in
college, but my father died just after I graduated, and then my
mother got ill. I went back home to take care of her, and after she
died I wanted a new start. I started looking for jobs and found
this one,” Annabelle finished in a rush.

He owed this moment to chance. He was
grateful she’d found this job, otherwise he might never have had
the opportunity to know her. That would have been tragic. Then what
she’d said really sunk in. “You’ve only been with one man.”

Were all the men she’d known crazy?
Suddenly, he was glad they’d all missed the gem hiding in their
midst. A feeling of possessiveness welled up within him. He’d found
her and he was darn well going to keep her.

Annabelle’s cheeks turned a light pink after
he made his rather blunt statement, but her gaze was calm and
steady. “Yes. And I wasn’t very good at it.”

Mike could only stare, completely
dumbfounded by her admission. She was one of the most naturally
sensual women he’d ever met. The way she’d responded to his kisses.
Her little moans. The way she unconsciously rubbed herself against
him. His cock flexed to life and he shifted in his seat to find a
more comfortable position. If she were any sexier, he’d have burned
to cinder.

She’d glanced away from him and was now
fidgeting with the spoon she’d used to stir her coffee. She looked
so lost and unsure, his heart ached for her. It was his job to let
her know how sexy she was, and he had a feeling that just telling
her wouldn’t work. He had to show her.

She gave him a startled look when he shifted
his chair, angling it so they were much closer. He reached under
the long tablecloth and touched her leg. Gathering the material in
his hand, he pushed up her dress until he had access to the naked
skin beneath. Mike trailed his fingers up the inside of her thigh
as he gave silent thanks to the Lord and the weatherman that it was
too hot for her to wear pantyhose.

Annabelle froze at the first contact, but
gradually relaxed and parted her legs a small amount to give him
better access. Encouraged, Mike continued to stroke his fingers
over her skin. He ran them up and down the inside of her thigh,
skimming close to the top but not quite touching her underwear.

Her skin was smooth and soft, and Mike
entertained himself with thoughts of rubbing his face over those
amazing legs before he finally buried his face between them. He
wanted to taste her, to lick and suck on her clitoris until she
screamed her release. Her breathing grew heavier and her legs
opened wider. Mike gently fondled the crotch of her panties.