I must say, it is an honor to write for you lovely ladies. The reviews only make me want to keep going.
Another moment of thanks to Mlle.Fox, she is the best beta there is.
MAN OF SORROWS
CHAPTER 9
The night had gone remarkably well, and Christine could not remember an evening when she had had so much fun.
Erik had remained quiet but attentive the remainder of the night, observing rather than participating in any particular conversation.
It gave Christine a chance to observe him and realize that he was not at all what she would have pictured Erik Argeneau to be like. She had thought him much older and more seasoned, judging by the depth of his art; but she guessed him to be in his mid to late thirties.
She had not been able to tell much about him from the pictures, they were in black and white and from a distance. She had assumed he was handsome, but handsome didn't even begin to describe him.
His eyes often landed on her, and Christine would feel the warmth of his gaze touch the remotest part of her toes.
It was drawing close to midnight and Christine was feeling the length of the day closing in on her; this was the latest she had been up in a very long time.
Meg, however, was having a wonderful time. Rafe had shown up, not long after they arrived. After he finished his business dinner, he had come over and joined their party.
"Evie, thank you so much for inviting me to join you tonight, but I am really getting tired and the wine is playing a tune on my brain – I need to get home."
Evie smiled and gave her hand a squeeze.
"I understand…I am glad you enjoyed yourself."
Erik stood as she said her farewell to Evie; he bowed elegantly as she turned to him. His eyes were sparkling, but there was disappointment lurking in them.
"It was really nice meeting you Mr. Arge…I mean, Erik."
He smirked endearingly and took her hand in his; he brushed his lips across her hand and then stood to his full height.
"The pleasure had been mine."
His voice was husky and sensual and Christine found herself staring at his mouth…in her head she heard her own voice telling her to stop, but she was not listening.
She blushed slightly and then went to Meg. Christine whispered something to her and Meg and Rafe stood, prepared to leave.
"No…I'll take a cab – enjoy your time together." Christine insisted.
Evie elbowed Erik in the side and sent a chilling stare his way. He sighed loudly, buried the nausea working its way up his throat, and followed Christine out of the restaurant.
It was one thing to play the charmer over a dinner table – but one on one, in the privacy of a car – that was a different matter.
He couldn't believe that his treacherous legs were carrying him to where she stood in the lobby, dialing her cell phone.
Have you completely taken leave of your senses? She will never accept a ride from you, you masked freak. Erik berated himself, even as he came to a stop beside her.
Christine could sense him before she actually saw him. He smelled like spices and orange blossoms – the scent was mysterious and stimulating. She could feel the warmth of his body as he stood beside her and she had to resist the urge to lean into him.
"Please, allow me to take you home…there is no need for a cab."
His voice would be her undoing, she knew this – and yet, she took it in as a parched desert drinks up the rain.
"I don't want to impose…"
"It is no imposition…it would be my pleasure."
His eyes were warm and almost translucent in the lush, romantic lighting. Despite her best efforts, Christine found herself leaning into his strong body and wondered if he would think her too forward.
He took her hand, looped it around his arm, and led her out the front door. He handed his ticket to the parking attendant and turned toward her, lifting the side of his sexy lips to propose a smile.
"So, Ms. Daughtry, I am told you teach chorus and art at one of our cities finest high schools."
His accent was beautiful and every word he spoke was silk threads weaving themselves around her spine. She giggled quietly and scuffed her shoe against the sidewalk; a nervous habit she had tried to rid herself of, but had never succeeded.
What am I doing? I am acting like Meg…making goo goo eyes at an attractive man. Christine was upset with her minds wandering, but could not keep from admiring the man who stood beside her.
"Eastside High School – I'm not sure it passes as one of the finest, but our numbers are improving."
Erik had a million words rolling around in his head, but none of them came out. He was almost in a cold sweat, despite the warmth in the air.
The valet finally parked his Volvo C70 in front of them. The car spoke volumes about its owner; five-speed automatic transmission, gold exterior, black interior, hard top convertible. The car exuded luxury and efficiency – just like the man himself.
Christine was about to open her door, when Erik showed up beside her, opened the door, and waited for her to get in.
He needs to be careful…I may start following him around like a lovesick puppy.
Christine's thoughts pushed a blush to her cheeks and an inaudible giggle from her throat. It was a good thing the car interior was dark or she would have been humiliated at the prospect of him seeing her reaction.
The car was equipped with a GPS system and, after getting Christine's address; he keyed the demographics into the computer and began the twenty-minute drive to her apartment.
He had turned on the radio to a light jazz station and the ride was quiet but very charged.
Christine watched his large, elegant hand shift gears and could not remember ever noticing a man's hands before…did every man have such sensually long, well-groomed fingers, or was Erik Argeneau an exception?
"You have musician's hands." Christine heard herself say – completely remiss as to where the courage to speak had come from.
Erik smiled that sideways smile again, and glanced at her.
"I am a musician – among other things." He stated, "I play the piano and violin fluently – and dabble at other instruments..." he suddenly winked at her, causing her to blush profusely, "…I've been told I can sing pretty well."
She was so thankful for the cover of night – he would never know that she hung on his every word and he made her knees go weak.
His speaking voice was so sensual and masculine; she could only imagine what it sounded like when he sang.
The computer announced their arrival at Christine's apartment. Erik parked in front of the brownstone building, got out and opened her door, and then walked her to the front door.
He waited until she was able to insert her key and open the door, before turning from her to head back to his car.
"Thank you for bringing me home." She stated, causing him to look at her again.
"You are welcome, Ms. Daughtry…don't forget to lock your door when you get inside." He smiled slightly and continued down the stairs.
As soon as Christine got inside, her knees buckled and she could feel her heart speeding in her chest. No man – ever – had had this type of an effect on her…it was unheard of! She was oblivious to a handsome face, money, and status – wasn't she?
Deep down inside, she knew there was more to Erik Argeneau than just his extraordinary looks and suave style – he was someone she wanted to get to know.
She had heard nothing about his life tonight; he had circumspectly geared the conversation away from himself; keeping his past and his art in the mysterious and unexplained category.
Now, he was gone – he had walked out of her life and she would most likely not see him again – unless…
She put her finger to her chin, forming a plan in her mind; she would be going back to that gallery at every opportunity she had.
TBC