“What kind of instructions?” I asked.
“The kind I want you to follow without question. I may not be able to sit across a table from you at a fancy restaurant, but I can still take you out and show you a good time.”
My curiosity bloomed wildly. “And you’re not going to give me any hint of how you plan to show me a good time?”
A seductive smile slid across Rix’s face. “No. None at all. Follow the directions, and I promise you’ll enjoy yourself.”
With his grip on my hair, he tilted my head and lowered his lips to mine. The first passes were sips at my lips, and then when I opened to him, he took more. The kiss turned from simple to demanding in moments. Rix pulled away first.
Did I ever pull away first? No, because you’re completely lost in him whenever he touches you. How long had it been since I’d felt this comfortable with a man? Years. And something told me it was unique to Rix.
He released my hair and stepped back.
“Every time I taste you, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stop. You test my control, duchess.” He brushed his lips across mine one more time and then he opened the French doors. His eyes met mine. “Tonight.”
REMY WAS SCHEDULED TO WORK with me today, and for that I was happy. I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts all afternoon if we happened to have a slow day for customers.
Rix’s promise about tonight and the text that was sure to come with the instructions I was required to follow was constantly on my mind. He was right. We couldn’t exactly go out in public and do anything normal couples did together, because we weren’t a normal couple by any stretch of the imagination.
I scoured my brain for what else we could possibly do and came up with mostly nothing. It was hard to imagine Rix setting up a private dinner for two somewhere off the beaten path. Me and him and candlelight and roses seemed out of character. But still, my mind jumped from one outlandish possibility to the next. I was not good at surprises. I wanted to know all the things, right now.
Instead, I got to watch my new window be installed and deal with my insurance company.
The text came as I waved Remy off and flipped the OPEN sign to CLOSED.
RIX: Short skirt. Button-up blouse. Heels. Walk out of your house at 10 and get in the black Escalade.
How did I reply to that? With the only answer I wanted to give.
VALENTINA: Okay.
Anticipation lit my system. Things were changing again. Tonight. I had five hours to get ready, and that meant it was time for a little pampering.
Manicured. Pedicured. Freshly trimmed and blown out. Showered. Shaved smooth. When I slid my feet into one of my favorite pairs of heels—black patent leather Louboutins—I felt like the woman I’d been all those years ago who wasn’t afraid to hit the bars by myself and take what I needed for the night. Confidence and intent made all the difference in the world.
From my front window, I watched as a black Escalade drove up the street. I left my front porch lights on as I slipped out the portico door and strolled down my driveway to my path, an extra sway in my hips.
The blacked-out SUV slowed to a stop and the back door opened from the inside. I pushed through the gate and crossed the sidewalk to the curb before placing my foot on the running board. I climbed up inside, pulling the door shut behind me.
The Escalade rolled forward, but my eyes were on Rix. He was dressed as I’d never seen him before, in a charcoal-gray three-piece suit, a crisp white shirt, and a silver tie that matched his eyes.
Wow.
“Am I underdressed?” I asked, glancing down at my black mini and royal-blue silk blouse.
Rix’s gaze started at my feet and slowly rose to my face. Devouring. That was the word for what his eyes were doing to me.
“You look beautiful.”
His simple compliment filled me with warmth and even more excitement for the night ahead. “Thank you. You look . . . wow.”
The smile on my lips came easily, naturally, and even though I had no idea where we were going or what we were doing, I was ready—because I was with him.
“I clean up all right once in a while.”
“I’d say more than all right.”
Rix curled two fingers toward me, motioning me closer. I moved to the middle seat and he slid a hand into my hair, closing his fingers around the back of my neck. It was becoming his habit, and I was getting used to it. More than used to it, I was growing to crave it.
“I need a taste, but your lips look too perfect to touch.”
Instead of kissing my very shiny red lips—a bold choice for me—his mouth skimmed my jaw, the shell of my ear, and then down to my throat. Shivers rolled through my body, goose bumps prickling my skin with anticipation of more. I pressed my thighs together as his teeth scraped where his lips had trailed.