“Thank you, Mrs. Adams.”
Christian pulls a nearby chair over and sits gracefully down beside me.
“So you just happen to be staying in the hotel where we’re drinking?” I ask, trying hard to keep my tone light.
“Or, you just happen to be drinking in the hotel where I’m staying,” Christian replies.
“I just finished dinner, came in here, and saw you. I was distracted thinking about your most recent email, and I glance up and there you are. Quite a coincidence, eh?” He cocks his head to one side, and I see a trace of a smile.
“My mother and I were shopping this morning and on the beach this afternoon. We decided on a few cocktails this evening,” I mutter, feeling that I owe him some sort of explanation.
“Did you buy that top?” He nods at my brand new green silk camisole, “The color suits you. And you’ve caught some sun. You look lovely.”
I flush, speechless at his compliment.
“Well, I was going to pay you a visit tomorrow. But here you are.”
He reaches over, takes my hand, and squeezes it gently, running his thumb across my knuckles to and fro… and I feel the familiar pull. The electric charge zapping beneath my skin under the gentle pressure from his thumb, firing into my blood stream and pulsing around my body, heating everything in its path. It’s been over two days since I saw him.
“I thought I’d surprise you. But as ever, Anastasia, you surprise me by being here.”
I glance quickly at Mom who is staring at Christian… yes staring!
“I don’t want to interrupt the time you have with your mother. I’ll have a quick drink and then retire. I have work to do,” he states earnestly.
“Christian, it’s lovely to meet you finally,” Mom interjects, finally finding her voice.
“Ana has spoken very fondly of you.”
He smiles at her.
“Really?” He raises an eyebrow at me, an amused expression on his face, and I flush again.
The waiter arrives with our drinks.
“Hendricks, sir,” he says with a triumphant flourish.
“Thank you,” Christian murmurs in acknowledgement.
I sip my latest Cosmo nervously.
“How long are you in Georgia, Christian?” Mom asks.
“Until Friday, Mrs. Adams.”
“Will you have dinner with us tomorrow evening? And please, call me Carla.”
“I’d be delighted to, Carla.”
“Excellent. If you two will excuse me, I need to visit the powder room.”
“So, you’re mad at me for having dinner with an old friend.” Christian turns his burning, wary gaze to me, lifting my hand to his lips and kissing each knuckle gently.
“Yes,” I murmur as my heated blood courses through me.
“Our sexual relationship was over long ago, Anastasia,” he whispers. “I don’t want anyone but you. Haven’t you worked that out yet?”
I blink at him.
“I think of her as a child molester, Christian.” I hold my breath waiting for his reaction.
Christian blanches.
“That’s very judgmental. It wasn’t like that,” he whispers, shocked. He releases my hand.
“Oh, how was it then?” I ask. The Cosmos are making me brave.
He frowns at me, bewildered. I continue.
“She took advantage of a vulnerable fifteen-year-old boy. If you had been a fifteen-year-old girl and Mrs. Robinson was a Mr. Robinson, tempting you into a BDSM lifestyle, that would have been okay? If it was Mia, say?”
He gasps and scowls at me.