WITH ROZ ON the telephone and Samuel in the kitchen with her, Cynthia was able to prepare a meal fit for a king—well in this case a prince. Samuel watched as she proudly placed the meat in the oven and closed the door.
He sat back in the chair at the breakfast bar with his arms crossed over his chest. It was good to see her accomplish this task. It was clear she was trying hard to impress the Prince by cooking for him. Inside he was seething. The reason was confusing even to him. On the surface, he felt it was because she was stepping outside of who she was to make an impression on the Prince, who in his opinion should be willing to accept her for who she was. As a deeper thought filled his mind, he realized she really wanted this thing with the Prince to work. She wanted to be accepted by the royal family and prove Jamal was wrong about her. Where did that leave him? The more time he spent around her the more he understood her. She wasn’t the person his sister Pearl made her out to be. Nor was she the DIVA her friends thought she was.
“Well, let’s see,” she said looking around, “the wine is chilling, the table is set, the food is in the oven. Now, I just have to clean this kitchen.”
“If you are anything like my sisters you have a date ritual. Why don’t you get started on that while I take care of the kitchen?
Shaking her head, “I can’t ask you to do that after you helped me prepare the meal.”
“You didn’t ask, I offered,” he stood and walked around the counter and took the oven mitts off her hands. “Go make yourself gorgeous.”
Smiling up at him, she shook her head; he was such a gentleman. His size and that frown on constant display is a contrast to the man he truly was. Unable to resist, she teased, by pushing her hair over her shoulders and saying, “I’m already gorgeous. I just need a minute to become irresistible.” His eyes rolled up towards the heavens as he grunted. She sashayed out of the room laughing at his expression.
As Samuel cleaned the kitchen he thought more about the façade this woman known as The Diva, puts on. To her friends she is fiercely loyal--would put herself on the line for any one of them. He thought about a night she threatened to beat a woman down for stepping between Tracy and JD. As for her brother, Blake, she acted as the protective older sister making sure his privacy was honored at all cost because she knew how valuable it was to him. The excuses she puts in place to protect her father’s reputation when people speak badly about him for not stopping her mother from moving the family and leaving her to fend for herself when she was only nineteen. Even defending her mother and doing all she could to please her by making this relationship with the Prince workout. For some unknown reason, she believes marrying the Prince will win her mother’s love—a love that should have no conditions.
After finishing the kitchen, Samuel took a quick shower and changed into a suit with a silk tee shirt underneath. Since the Prince was coming to dinner he wanted to be dressed appropriately so as not to embarrass her. Now, standing in the living room, he lit the fireplace, giving the room a romantic ambiance.
He wasn’t sure if it was a sound or he just sensed she was in the room, but something caused him to turn around. She was walking down the staircase with a stride that commanded attention. Every blood vessel within him began flowing profusely throughout his body causing his heart rate to jump.
Cynthia didn’t know why but his reaction was important to her. This dress was purchased to dazzle LaVere’, but Samuel’s impression would let her know if she went overboard. At least that was what she was telling herself until she saw him rise to his full six-six height and began to silently caress her body with his eyes. His look rendered her speechless.
He was the first to recover with a curt nod of his head. “Well, if your intent was to be irresistibly alluring—mission accomplished.”
A breathtaking smile appeared on her almost make-up free face as she came to the bottom of the steps and gave a complete turn for his viewing. “You like?” she asked while turning.
If the front of the flesh-toned dress was alluring, then the back was meant to drive a man insane, was his first thought. His second was, she could not be wearing anything under that dress. The third really worried him, he sincerely hoped he did not have to kill LaVere’ tonight. “Is it too much?” she asked when he did not respond.
Realizing she was waiting for his response he attempted to answer, but then he noticed the bottom point of the diamond-shaped opening in the back of the dress stopped right at the curve of her full behind. He groaned inwardly and prayed she did not hear him. There was a single bow right below the nape of her neck that held the dress together—one single string and he was sure the entire dress would peel away from her luscious body. “If you are going for until death shall we part, that dress will do the trick.”
“Thank you, Samuel,” she said as she turned and walked into the kitchen in her three-inch heel sandals that made her legs appear even longer under the knee-length dress. “I’m going to take the meat out.”
“Whew,” he closed his eyes to try to gain some control over a certain part of his body that was raging out of control. “I already turned it down to simmer,” he replied. Just like I’m doing, he thought.
As soon as she reached the kitchen the telephone rung. “I’ll have to remember to turn this off. Nothing ruins a romantic evening like the ringing of a telephone.” She joked as the answered the call. “Hello.”
“Ms. Thornton, Prince LaVere’ regrets he will not be available to meet with you this evening.”
Frowning she asked, “Is he okay?”
“Why yes. Why wouldn’t he be?” Jamal smirked.
Anger seeping through, she closed her eyes. “Let me speak with LaVere’ Jamal.”
“I’m afraid that is not possible at this time. Good night Ms. Thornton.”
Cynthia frowned when she heard the dial tone. “You know I’m about sick of him.” She hung up the telephone and dialed James' number.
“Brooks’ residence,” Charles the butler answered.
Trying hard not to get upset, she sighed with relief. “Hello, Charles. May I speak with James?”
“One moment.”
The disappointment in her voice was very apparent. Only a few moments ago Samuel saw the pride beaming in her smile from her cooking accomplishments. Yet, here she was being dealt another blow. This one he had to admit he did not see it coming. The slump in her shoulders was a telling sign, she was defeated. “James, is everything okay with LaVere’?”
James exhaled before he replied. “He was summoned home by his father. It seemed word of his plans to marry an American has upset some fractions in his homeland.”
“Why would that upset anyone?”
“There are some that feel the royal family should remain pure. His father is one of them.”
“I see. Is his family safe?”
“I’m not certain Cynthia. Whatever is happening, LaVere’ will handle it. Don’t worry.”
Cynthia wondered if it was the fact that she was American or her past that was causing the situation. “Thank you, James,” she sighed while hanging up the telephone.
She stood looking around the room. The dining room was breathtaking and the fire in the living room’s fireplace set a very sensual ambiance to the room. Looking up at Samuel, who was leaning against the doorway, she smiled. “The fire is a nice touch, Thank you.” Turning she walked over to the stove, took the meat out and turned the oven off. “Well it looks like we are going to have a lot of leftovers,” she smiled. “You did a great job in here, but then again you always seem to know your way around a kitchen.”
He watched and listened as she tried to play off the hurt and disappointment. She was walking around chattering about nothing as if she hadn’t spent the day taking jabs from him and Roz about her cooking skills. Only to be disappointed by the Prince.
He walked over and placed his hands on the lower part of her back and gave her a little shove towards the dining room. “I think I would like to have dinner now.”
Knowing what he was trying to do, she looked up at him shaking her head, “You don’t have to do that.’
“Yes, I do. I’m hungry.” The laugh was to relieve the tension he knew was there but chose to ignore. “Hmm, you’re laughing and I’m serious. Here,” he pulled the dining room chair out. “You sit your -I look good enough to eat self down. I’ll bring the food over.”
Once seated at the table the conversation was slow as he tried to draw her out. Eventually, like he knew would happen, she put a smile on her face covering the hurt and began to relax. The conversation centered around his family mostly. When the laughter from his stories about growing up with a big family became real, he relaxed and just enjoyed the meal and her company.
“Shall we try the desert?” she asked with a genuine smile.
The smile radiated through him. He wanted to hold her and make things better. “Actually, I’d like to dance.”
“Dance? You dance,” she asked surprised.
Frowning at the jest, he stood, picked up the remote to the music system and hit the play button. Baby Face’s Grown and Sexy began to play. He took her hand and swung her around as she stood. “Wow,” she laughed. They danced a salsa to the smooth upbeat sound. The two merged into a sensual rhythm with each other, enjoying the easy way they fit. “You are surprisingly light on your feet Mr. Lassiter,” Cynthia smiled as he twirled her and brought her back into his arms.
He dipped her and brought her back up to him. “In my profession, I have to be quick and limber.”
“Really, Please tell where did you learn the gracefulness?” She laughed at the appalled look he gave her.
“Football.” Now he laughed at her look and then brought her closer. “My mother is a dancer. Well, she was until she gave it up for us.”
The music changed to Can’t Stop Now, “What type of dancer was she?” Cynthia asked as he smoothly fit her to him.
“Ballet”
Surprised she looked up at him, “She performed on stage”
Nodding he replied, “Broadway a few times.”
The dazzling smile appeared. “Wow. My mother would be impressed.” She placed her head on his chest.
“I doubt it. It doesn’t seem a lot of things impress your mother, unless she’s involved.”
A soft giggle escaped, “You’re beginning to know her so well.”
“I know you put too much emphasis on trying to please her.”
She stopped and looked up at him. Seeing it wasn’t a criticism she put her head back down and continued to enjoy the warmth of his embrace. “Well, we humans try to get love where and however we can.”
“It shouldn’t be that hard, especially from your mother.”
“We work with the cards we’re dealt. I have a bad hand when it comes to people loving me.”
He heard the despair in her voice and he did not like it. He stopped and looked down at her. “All one has to do is take the time to overlook the rough outer persona you have created as a defense mechanism and look into those amazingly beautiful hazel eyes to see your heart. Then they will know the person inside is a caring and unselfish woman who is just as beautiful as her exterior.”
Surprised she looked up at him. “Do you see that Samuel? Can you see my heart?”
Their bodies stopped moving, as they stood in the middle of the floor staring into each other eyes. The tempo of the music, the crackling of the fire, and the beat of their hearts touching breast to chest stirred every emotion in his body. “Every chamber.” He continued to look into her eyes, holding her securely to him. “You want to know something else?” he asked in a deep sexually laced voice.
Not sure why but she seemed to have lost her voice. The way his hands felt on her back, right above the curve of her backside, the way their bodies touched, but more than anything, the look in his eyes rendered her speechless. All she could do was nod her head.
Taking his time, he lowered his head until their lips were inches apart. “I love what I see.”
She waited, but he didn’t kiss her. The anticipation was more than she could take. As she looked into his eyes, she realized what he was waiting for. This would not be a kiss and nothing more. This was going to be the beginning of a commitment. Seeing the understanding form in her eyes he held her a little tighter. “I play for keeps Cynthia Antoinette.”
It was a sign of anger whenever she heard her entire name called out by her mother. The way he said it was just the opposite. It was laced with love. “Kiss me, Samuel.”
And that’s exactly what he did—slowly, methodically, and thoroughly. When he finished making love to her—and he was going to make love to her, he wanted there to be no doubts to whom her heart belonged. This was the woman he wanted to brand as his.
Was she wrong to want this man? She committed herself to LaVere’, but this man was stealing her senses with his lips, his tongue, his hands—big hands and oh so hard body. She realized she had clothes on, but the heat his body was generating was consuming her. “Samuel,” she barely whispered when his lips traveled down her throat.
Standing to his full height he pulled her body flushed with his, “Yes?” he answered in a raw sexual drawl. If she was about to tell him to stop, he would, because he wanted more than just her body. Nothing less than always and forever would satisfy his soul at this point.
That’s when she felt it, in all its hard core glory—the reaction of his body to hers. This man with the discipline of Gandhi and the patience of Job wanted her. May God help her—she wanted him just as bad. The vow to be celibate until she met the man she was going to marry suddenly became viable. This was the man for her. “Love me, Samuel, love me.”
Without another breath, he dropped to his knees and pulled the very essence of her to his lips. He inhaled her scent and kissed what will now belong to him—forever. The material of the dress did not protect her from the singe of his touch. She quivered at the touch and was forced to dig into his shoulders to keep from melting in the spot. Standing with her across his shoulders, he did not stop until he placed her body across her bed. Following her down, he covered her with his body and stared into her eyes. “Tonight you become my woman— heart,” he kissed the right side of her lips, “body,” he kissed the left side of her lips, “and soul,” he devoured her mouth, leaving not an inch inside untouched. Her taste, texture of her tongue, her movements all seem to make him want more. Reluctantly leaving her mouth, he placed a trail of kisses down her throat until he reached the soft mounds of her breasts. Definitely more than a mouth full, but not enough to fill his craving in one serving, he began to pace himself. He wanted to savor every morsel of her. Reaching behind her neck he released the single thread that held her dress together, then slowly lowered it down her body revealing a flawless, toned body. And as he suspected, there wasn’t a stitch of anything underneath. Standing above her mesmerized by her beauty, it took him a moment to respond to her statement.
“One of us appears to be a little overdressed,” she smiled at him praying that her nervousness to his response to her was not showing. This was a unique occurrence for her. There were a few things she was not confident about; her body was not one of them. But the way Samuel looked at her, made her want to be perfect and she, in this instance wasn’t sure if she met his standard. When his eyes returned to hers, all doubt drifted away. With her hands over her head, she watched as he removed his blazer dropping it to the floor. Then her breath caught when he removed his shirt, his chest was exactly as she remembered it, wide, strong, rippled. Kicking off his shoes and socks, she watched, committed to memory every muscle—from his arms to his chest. Then he lowered his briefs and pants together and stood before her. Pulling a condom from his pocket, he ripped the packet open to protect them.
“Better,” he asked raising an eyebrow.
Cynthia had never seen anything so exquisite in her life. She came up on her knees and ran her tongue over her bottom lip. Reaching out she touched the center of his chest with her index finger and ran the full length of his torso until she reached the most powerful member of his body. Par for the course, she continued down the length of him until she reached the tip. Sitting there on her knees, with her finger right on the tip of him, she looked up.
It took every ounce of discipline he could muster to not grab her and enter her in one powerful thrust. But there was more at stake than just this one night. So he held his patience—until she put the very finger that caused him to just about lose his mind into her mouth, never taking her eyes from his. That was it, the damn broke. All the tension, all the sexual crackling in the room burst as he lifted her into the air and brought her down onto him, fitting him so completely into her fold. She inhaled as her legs wrapped around his powerful back as she stared into his eyes, lips only a breath apart, holding on to his shoulders. He held her there with a single hand wrapped around her waist, while he used one hand to remove the comb to free her hair. Fanning her hair out, he watched the expressions as she adjusted to him, he wanted to make sure he did not hurt her.
There was more to this man that she anticipated; it never crossed her mind if he could hold her weight so easily in mid-air. She felt more secure in his hands then she did on her own feet and to clear that glimmer of concern she saw in his eyes, she began to lower her body backward while holding on to his arms until the back of her head touched the bed. With his hands at her waist, he held her still and slowly withdrew from her and submerged himself into her again, and again, and again. Digging her nails into his arms she was amazed at his strength and knew, with him she never had to be afraid of anything. That was the last coherent thought she had as a scream began to escape from her. The intensity of the heat generating between them was explosive, there was no way she could hold back from the promise of fulfillment that was building inside. He eased his hand up her back and pulled her body back up flushed with his. Completely in his control, she wrapped her arms around his neck, “hold on baby,” he said as he eased his hands down to her cheeks and squeezed them securely around him. The explosion rocked her body, as he held her and kissed her throat that was vibrating with her release. “Let it all flow. I want to feel all of you.” He continued to stand there holding her as if she was the most precious item in the world. Her body rested limply against his, still reeling from the soft sensual release. How could this massive man be so tender, so giving, so loving?
With her head in the crook of his shoulder, it occurred to her that he did not explode with her. Her body tensed, she did not satisfy him—that was a first. All she could think to do was give him the same pleasure he had shared with her. They were still intimately entwined and the last thing she wanted to do was break the connection. She looked up with a questioning eye.
Having an idea of what she was thinking, he smiled, “You mentioned the celibacy thing. I thought you needed that one by yourself.” They fell on the bed, “This one is for me.”
The smile he generated flowed like a liquid flame throughout her body. Nothing could be more beautiful than his smile. “Bring it on big boy.”
This man knew how to follow orders. He began at the breasts, rubbing each to the point of distraction, then taking them, one at a time into his mouth savoring the taste and her hard nipples between his lips. Still inside her, he lifted one side of her legs and placed it over his giving him a deeper penetration. Moving slowly in and out he began to feel all of the succulent offering surrounding him. Nothing felt this right, or so glorious. He pushed up on one hand and moved his lower body deeper inside her—pushing deeper and deeper, reaching for the glory that was waiting on the other side. The glory only she could give him. She lifted her body and pushed up to him, he growled. She did it again, the growl became deeper. Her pushing up to him, him pushing down into her over and over and over again until his growl became a howl. And he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop and continued until every last drop of his pleasure had flowed out of him. She held him tight, afraid to let go, afraid the feeling of contentment would disappear; afraid the feeling of being one with him would disappear, afraid she would never experience another moment like this one. But she was wrong; she felt it over and over throughout the night. For Samuel was determined to brand her his, and what a mark he left.
Sometime in the wee hours of the night, Samuel went downstairs to clear the table and kitchen. Before returning upstairs he checked the window to ensure a bodyguard was watching over them—there was. Then he let Rusty upstairs to sleep by the door. He then crawled back into bed and wrapped his body around the woman that invaded his heart. As soon as their bodies connected, he became engorged again. He pulled her back to him and eased into her. Even in her sleep, she responded to him with a soft moan. He moved his hand from her waist down to the warmth between her legs. While moving smoothly inside her he thumbed the crux of her womanhood and was promptly rewarded with her full release. His followed as he buried his head into her hair. His final thought being, this must be heaven, before falling asleep.