another sip and smiled appreciatively.
“ You’re a natural sensualist.”
“ What?” Megan asked, taken off guard by his husky voice.
He nodded toward her wineglass. “I’m just saying…you use your senses better than most people. I can tell from your art. Not to mention the way you appreciate your wine.” He gave her a reassuring smile when he noticed her disquietude. His unexpected words had… stirred her for some reason.
“ Here’s to you and your showing. When will it be?” Christian asked.
“ Not until December. I’ll never make it. I have so much to do.”
“ You’ll do fine,” he murmured huskily. He glanced down over her. His forehead crinkled in concern and he straightened. He abruptly set his wine glass down on the ebony granite countertop.
“ You look fantastic. I should go change clothes.”
“ Why?” Megan wondered in confusion. He was dressed in the shorts and T-shirt that he’d been in several hours ago. He was barefoot, and he looked like the picture of sexy summer-time relaxation.
“ You put on a dress to come over. I’m a heel. I should have dressed up for your special dinner.” He started to walk out of the kitchen, but Megan stopped him by putting her hand on his upper arm.
“ It’s just a sundress. I put it on because of the heat. Don’t change because of me. I like the way you’re dressed.”
And the way you smell.
“ Really?” Christian asked as he bent down close to her. Megan’s lips parted in alarm. She hadn’t just said that last thought out loud, had she? The heavy sensuality of Christian’s gaze and his body language suggested that she had. He put his cheek next to her hair and inhaled.
“ I like the way you smell, too. Fresh. Clean. Sweet. Like a wild meadow after a spring rain.” He kissed her temple warmly. Megan’s wine glass trembled in her hand. “I’ll make a deal with you.”
“ What kind of a deal?”
“ I’ll stay in these clothes if you let your hair down. What ?” He countered with wide-eyed innocence when she looked at him with pointed suspicion. “It’ll make me feel less conspicuous, like I’m not just the peasant who won the lottery and got the privilege of dining with the princess. You wouldn’t want to make me feel uncomfortable, would you?”
Megan gave him a look that told him she wasn’t buying it. Christian would sit down to tea with the Queen of England herself wearing holey jeans and flip-flops and never break a sweat. Still, she didn’t protest when he removed the clip from the back of her head.
He gave a lazy, smug grin as he ran his fingers through her loose hair.
“ That was excellent. I have to get the recipe from you for the marinade,” Megan said a half hour later.
Christian shrugged as he leaned back in the armed dining room chair. They’d decided that it was too hot to sit outside on the terrace, although Megan had accompanied him on a few barbecuing forays while he checked on the salmon he grilled outside. “I don’t have a recipe. I just make it up as I go along.”
“ Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” she teased. But her eyes were sincere when they met his.
“ Thank you, Christian. Nobody’s ever made me a congratulatory meal.”
He paused in lifting his water glass to his mouth. “Nobody?”
Her laugh sounded embarrassed. “Not that I can recall.”
Christian watched her for a few seconds, not particularly relishing the idea of no one ever doing anything special for this unique woman. He thought of something and bound up from his chair. “I almost forgot. Your special meal isn’t finished yet. Why don’t you go into the living room and I’ll bring it to you there.”
He ignored her when she said that she wanted to help him clean up and pushed her toward the living room. Megan was examining his black baby grand when Christian entered a few minutes later with a tray. “You play all of these instruments, Christian?”
“ Yes, but highly inexpertly.”
Megan smiled.
“ You’re a natural sensualist.”
“ What?” Megan asked, taken off guard by his husky voice.
He nodded toward her wineglass. “I’m just saying…you use your senses better than most people. I can tell from your art. Not to mention the way you appreciate your wine.” He gave her a reassuring smile when he noticed her disquietude. His unexpected words had… stirred her for some reason.
“ Here’s to you and your showing. When will it be?” Christian asked.
“ Not until December. I’ll never make it. I have so much to do.”
“ You’ll do fine,” he murmured huskily. He glanced down over her. His forehead crinkled in concern and he straightened. He abruptly set his wine glass down on the ebony granite countertop.
“ You look fantastic. I should go change clothes.”
“ Why?” Megan wondered in confusion. He was dressed in the shorts and T-shirt that he’d been in several hours ago. He was barefoot, and he looked like the picture of sexy summer-time relaxation.
“ You put on a dress to come over. I’m a heel. I should have dressed up for your special dinner.” He started to walk out of the kitchen, but Megan stopped him by putting her hand on his upper arm.
“ It’s just a sundress. I put it on because of the heat. Don’t change because of me. I like the way you’re dressed.”
And the way you smell.
“ Really?” Christian asked as he bent down close to her. Megan’s lips parted in alarm. She hadn’t just said that last thought out loud, had she? The heavy sensuality of Christian’s gaze and his body language suggested that she had. He put his cheek next to her hair and inhaled.
“ I like the way you smell, too. Fresh. Clean. Sweet. Like a wild meadow after a spring rain.” He kissed her temple warmly. Megan’s wine glass trembled in her hand. “I’ll make a deal with you.”
“ What kind of a deal?”
“ I’ll stay in these clothes if you let your hair down. What ?” He countered with wide-eyed innocence when she looked at him with pointed suspicion. “It’ll make me feel less conspicuous, like I’m not just the peasant who won the lottery and got the privilege of dining with the princess. You wouldn’t want to make me feel uncomfortable, would you?”
Megan gave him a look that told him she wasn’t buying it. Christian would sit down to tea with the Queen of England herself wearing holey jeans and flip-flops and never break a sweat. Still, she didn’t protest when he removed the clip from the back of her head.
He gave a lazy, smug grin as he ran his fingers through her loose hair.
“ That was excellent. I have to get the recipe from you for the marinade,” Megan said a half hour later.
Christian shrugged as he leaned back in the armed dining room chair. They’d decided that it was too hot to sit outside on the terrace, although Megan had accompanied him on a few barbecuing forays while he checked on the salmon he grilled outside. “I don’t have a recipe. I just make it up as I go along.”
“ Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” she teased. But her eyes were sincere when they met his.
“ Thank you, Christian. Nobody’s ever made me a congratulatory meal.”
He paused in lifting his water glass to his mouth. “Nobody?”
Her laugh sounded embarrassed. “Not that I can recall.”
Christian watched her for a few seconds, not particularly relishing the idea of no one ever doing anything special for this unique woman. He thought of something and bound up from his chair. “I almost forgot. Your special meal isn’t finished yet. Why don’t you go into the living room and I’ll bring it to you there.”
He ignored her when she said that she wanted to help him clean up and pushed her toward the living room. Megan was examining his black baby grand when Christian entered a few minutes later with a tray. “You play all of these instruments, Christian?”
“ Yes, but highly inexpertly.”
Megan smiled.
Similar Books
