Page 60 of Prelude To You

I issued her my formal smile. The one that eased the board members’ troubled minds. “I apologize, I was lost in thought.”

“Well, I’m glad you found your way back,” she said, idly trailing the fingers I’d just kissed over the arch of her slender throat. “Because I have a question for you.”

Now was the perfect time to explain how this ends tonight, after hours of delirious fucking.

She bit her lower lip, her expression as serious as a heart attack. “If you could be an animal, which one would you choose to be?”

It took a few seconds for me to redirect my thoughts, since I was still reflecting on how desperately I wanted to bury my mouth between her thighs.

“Why don’t you go first?” I said. “I need to consider my options here.”

“Honey badger, no question,” she said enthusiastically. “They’re amazing. They’re very smart, they’re fearless and they’re tough. They know what they want and they go after it. They’ll fight anything, and chances are they’ll win. The only bad thing is that they tend to go after bee larvae and destroy the beehives to get to them. I guess that’s why they’re called honey badgers. But as a honey badger, I myself would not succumb to the wild instinct to destroying beehives.”

She was so perfectly sincere, and I had to suppress my laughter. Her foot ever so gently trailed my leg under the table, chipping away at what little was left of my willpower. “Now it’s your turn,” she said.

This was not a conversation I’d ever imagined having, and it was even more remarkable that I didn’t mind it at all. “I would have chosen a bird of prey,” I mused. “But now I’m doubting my choice.”

She tilted her head, never losing my gaze. “Why is that?”

“If you’re a honey badger and I’m a bird of prey, where does that leave us?”

“Hmm, I can see where you’re going with this. So now you want to be a honey badger too. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes, please,” I pleaded. “If I may.”

A small sigh escaped her lips. “Fine, I’ll allow it. But just so you know, honey badgers are solitary creatures, in case you had any funny ideas.”

I smirked affectionately. “Says the woman who had me downgrade from a graceful bird of prey to a mad, hostile, bee-killing mongrel with a personality disorder. Explain what you mean by funny ideas, please.”

“Sharing my honey badger den with wicked intentions,” she said, the whisper of a smile toiling at her lips.

“Explain wicked intentions, please,” I said. “I’ll need more detail if I want to mount a defense worthy of Sun Tzu.”

“Like you sharing my den and forcing yourself on me,” she said. “Or are you of the opinionnever venture, never win?”

“And she quotes the great warrior himself,” I replied, eager to play along. “But maybe forcing is too strong a word. I’d want you to like my wicked intentions, even if it’s just a little bit.”

Her effervescent laugh filled the room and seeped under my skin, kindling a strange pleasure inside me. When she finally stopped laughing, she leaned forward. “What do I get out of the deal if I let you share my den?”

I leaned forward too, taking her hands in mine. As if we were about to exchange vows. “I will protect you, always, against the vicious creatures out there on the savanna. I’ll hunt forwhateveryou crave to eat, whether it be a rat or a snake, or a couple of juicy scorpions. I’ll dig you a bigger den and I’ll give you all the den time you need."

“You had me at scorpions, yum,” she said with a twinkle in her eye and a blossoming flush on her cheeks. “And just so you know, I don’t care about a bigger den, but a lot of den time would definitely make me reconsider my preference for a solitary existence.”

What in the name of all that was holy, and a few things that weren’t, was I doing? Why did this trivial conversation bury itself right inside my chest?

For a few moments we were locked in this small carefree world, with her foot, nowsansshoe, caressing my knee. My hand snaked impulsively to my lap, my fingers curling around her ankle before I gently brushed the bottom of her foot over my swelling groin.

A small gasp escaped her, and the twinkle in her eye became a sultry glimmer. We were two seconds away from creating another burning memory when there was a knock on the door and the wine steward entered with two glasses and a bottle of wine.

Isabel’s foot slipped from my lap back into her shoe, and she put on a smile that could start a war. I had her taste the wine because every little action she took had become a mesmerizing experience I needed to feed my starving soul. And my God, did she deliver.

There was the elegant swirl of the glass, a gentle sniff and then a just-so dip of the glass to taste the wine. And all the while her gaze was burning into mine. She licked an imaginary drop of wine from her lips and smiled.

“This wine is lovely,” she whispered as if it was a secret only she and I could share. “I could see myself spending time with it, enjoying every drop.”

The wine steward nearly dropped the bottle of wine. I felt somewhat vindicated for not being the only one left powerless by Isabel. I held my hand up to stop him from pouring the wine. “I’ll take it from here, thank you.”

“Sure, if there’s anything else, let me know.” As he left the room, he risked one last glance at Isabel before closing the door behind him.

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