More, "getting to know you", stuff...enjoy.

MAN OF SORROWS

CHAPTER 15

He stared at her incredulously, not certain whether she really wanted him to open up to her, or if she was just being polite.

"It's getting late." He finally responded, knowing that he was not ready to tell all… not yet.

They had finished their tea and both were warding off the fatigue that had suddenly begun to settle on them.

He stood, surprised to see a look of rejection and disappointment on her sweet face.

He moved to stand in front of her, lifted her chin with his fingers and smiled down at her.

"Sunday afternoon is supposed to be warm and sunny; would you like to have a picnic in central park?"

The joy that suddenly lit her face made Erik's heart leap in his chest. This woman wanted to spend time with him – she actually wanted to get to know him, mask and all.

"Oh Erik, I would love that." She sighed.

"I'll buy the basket from one of the vendors and find us a spot that we can call our own."

Christine shook her head, adamantly.

"No, please let me make the lunch, I want to cook for you." She smiled shyly.

Erik couldn't believe how wonderful those words made him feel, she wanted to cook…for him.

"Alright, but don't go to too much trouble, I'll bring the wine."

She nodded and asked, "Is there anything I should know…food allergies, preferences…that sort of thing?"

Erik chuckled at her thoughtfulness, "No I have no allergies that I know of, and I'm not a picky eater."

Christine made a mental note of these things. "Dessert?"

His sexy smirk rattled her poised shell, "Always….and lots of it."

Her visible swallow was amusing, but Erik didn't want to appear to be making fun of her...she was, indeed, interested.

"What time should we meet?"

Erik scoffed lightheartedly, "We are not meeting anywhere, I'll pick you up at 1:00; that will give me time to get back from church, get changed, and get here."

He was making his way toward the door and Christine followed him, admiring his strong build and graceful movements.

He turned toward her and stared deeply into her eyes, hoping she could see that he was interested in her.

He took her hand in his, brought it to his mouth, and placed a kiss upon her knuckles. Christine could have sworn that she felt a flood of warmth sweep through her, heating her core to overflowing.

"Perhaps, besides talking and getting to know each other more, I can show you what it is I do for a living…because I know that you are already aware that I don't sell my paintings…they are donated to museums and galleries around the world – unless they are auctioned or sold for charities."

"I would like that." She assured him.

"Thank you for the tea, Miss Daughtry…good night."

He turned to leave, but Christine stopped him before he completed the turn.

She picked up his large, warm hand and held it in hers for a few seconds, running her palm over his tapered fingers admiringly.

She closed her eyes, drew his hand up to her cheek, and gently rubbed it across his knuckles, hearing him draw his breath in sharply.

His heady cologne filled her senses and made her long to taste of his succulent mouth; but she sensed that he needed more time to accept her interest in him.

She had seen and been with him three times, and he had never said her name – her first name. She longed to hear it caress his lips.

She placed a soft, moist kiss upon the back of his hand and she wore a come-hither smile upon her lips. When she opened her eyes to see him watching her, she quietly asked him,

"Say my name, Erik…what's my name?"

He swallowed hard, and closed his eyes to calm his racing heart; he still felt her hand wrapped around his. He leaned down, put his mouth to her ear, and murmured,

"Christine."

He briefly touched his cheek to hers and then turned and left.

♫♫♫

The next morning was Saturday, and Christine had nothing planned except sleeping late and watching Saturday morning cartoons; a routine she had no desire to change.

Therefore, when the buzzer sounded at 7:30 in the morning, Christine jumped out of her bed, and landed, butt first, on the floor.

She scrambled up, despite the slight pain, and quickly made her way over to the intercom.

"Who is it?"

In retrospect, she realized it could have been Erik and her tone was one of irritation…she sure hoped it wasn't him; and only for that reason…and the fact that her hair was askew and her breath was frightful.

"Hey girl!"

Meg was perpetually perky in the morning; another trait Christine let her know was infuriating.

Christine didn't even bother to respond, she just pushed the button to allow her bothersome best friend to invade her sleep time.

Before Christine could put the coffee in the coffee maker, Meg was knocking on the door.

When the door opened, Meg swept into the room like a spring breeze, with a huge smile on her face.

Christine stared at Meg with stern resolve and continued to put the coffee on. Meg seemed unperturbed by her friend's solemn mood and asked for the obvious.

"Okay Chrissie, divulge all the juicy details, and leave nothing out."

Christine forced back her sudden smile and played coy, "What details?"

"Oh, don't even…you know what I mean."

Christine shrugged her shoulders and continued to fight the smile that so eagerly wanted to sit upon her lips.

"I have no idea what you mean."

Meg stared aghast at her friend's obtuse act and then rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Chrissie, I really want to know what happened with Mr. Gorgeous, mysterious, French guy after you both left last night."

"Nothing happened…he drove me home, we drank some tea and talked, and then he left."

Meg was not buying it, "You left the dinner party to go take a walk together; then, after you do, heaven knows what, by the river bank, you call me up and say you are leaving and he is taking you home."

Christine did not give anything away, but stood her ground in stubborn determination.

"I accepted the explanation you gave me when he took you home the night of the gallery opening; you had just met him…but last night…"

"Meg…please…I really, really like Erik…a lot…" Christine pleaded, "…just let me proceed as I see best, okay?"

Meg nodded her head in acceptance. This was the first time she had heard Christine speak so passionately about a man.

"We're going on a picnic Sunday afternoon, in Central Park…he's picking me up at 1:00 pm."

Meg smiled and felt tears springing to her eyes; for so long, she had prayed that Christine would find someone she could bond with on a romantic level…it might have finally happened.

"Does he feel the same about you?"

Christine looked at Meg, not wanting to answer the question.

"I don't know…there is a painful event hidden somewhere in his past that prevents him from being completely free…but I think he is actually interested."

Meg giggled, reached over and tucked Christine's red curls behind her ears, and spoke teasingly, "Don't seem so surprised."

Christine poured them both a cup of coffee and they sat quietly at the small table, in the equally small dining room.

"Meg, what should I wear on a picnic that will make him notice me for sure?"

Meg smiled and clapped her hands, "I am so glad you are finally asking for my help…let's go shopping today."

"Meg, I don't have the money for shopping."

Meg had anticipated that, but she was always prepared for shopping.

"It doesn't matter – consider it my gift to the bettering of mankind…or rather, womankind…" She preached, and then looked at Christine, "…namely, you."

TBC