Yesterday I signed a new contract for this novella. It
will be my first release with Naughty Nights Press. The good news is, this
lovely Fiona Jayde cover will remain and be the cover for the new
release!
CHAMPAGNE AND CHOCOLATE:
ARe Romance | Smashwords | Publisher |
As she led him to the private wing of the large building that housed her home and business, Chantille had time to question the wisdom of her actions—again. She'd been berating herself for most of the past thirty minutes. Austin Standish was a danger to her; she knew this on an instinctive level. Not that he would hurt her, of course. But, he was dangerous, just the same.
She was acutely
aware of every panther-like, lissome step he took behind her. He was elegant in
manner and dress, quietly contained but always alert. The sense of being in
perilous company assailed her with new severity. She opened the twin doors to
her living suite and went inside, hearing him close the doors behind him before
joining him.
She continued
into the room, uncomfortable as she chafed against the restraints of her heavy
dress and the many layers beneath it. She'd permitted a few select men into this
suite over the past five years, but none had ever made her so acutely aware of
herself and the desire to shed her clothes and feel solid muscles and male
hardness pressed to her warm curves. Her breasts felt heavy, and her nipples
strained against the fabric of her chemise, rubbing against the soft material
until the pebbled points ached. Between her thighs, a slow, steady throb began
to increase in rhythm, finding a matching tempo in her heartbeat.
The soft
illumination from the fireplace touched the wood that dominated the room's
furnishings, warming the smooth, lustrous finish as shadows danced on the walls
and glimmered in the reflections of the mirror that adorned one wall of the
room. She saw nothing, only the darkness that had grown around her so steadily
throughout the past half-hour, a darkness that touched her with fears she
couldn't clearly define, much less explain.
Watching the
play of light catch in the soft gold of his hair, Chantille was struck again by
the intuitive knowledge that dominated the man's handsome features. Barely
suppressed sensuality and anticipation were so strong in the shadowed intimacy
of the suite that she felt she could reach out and touch the things that
presently put them on opposite sides of a chasm she didn't know with certainty
she wanted to close. The only thing she did know was that she wanted to be with
him more than she had any man she'd ever met.
"Tell me what
you're feeling right now, Chantille."
"Angry."
"At
me?"
"No," she
whispered, then shook her head to deny her dishonesty. "Yes."
"Why?"
"I don't like
being vulnerable."
* * * *
*
For the first
time, Chantille looked right at him, and Austin could read all the uncertainty
he hadn't taken the time to notice before. He answered her honestly, unwilling
to do anything less.
"Being
vulnerable isn't always a bad thing, Chantille. Sometimes it makes you
stronger."
"I don't believe
that, and you certainly don't." The edge crept back into her tone. "I feel like
I did when I was a child, needing to be wanted. When I came to San Francisco, I
swore I'd never feel that way again."
Austin drew in a
deep draught of air and ran a hand through his hair.
"You don't have
to be afraid of anything, Chantille." He knew the words were weak, and he could
have kicked himself for them once they were spoken.
She actually
managed to smile at the statement, though there was no warmth in the
expression.
"Weak women hold
no appeal for men like you, Mr. Standish," she remarked.
"Is that what
you want? To appeal to me?"
She laughed, a
low murmur of sound that stirred the air between them.
"I want to share
my bed with you, Austin," she conceded. "What I don't want is for it to cost me
everything I've worked for."
"What are you
afraid of losing?"
"My
independence."
"Your
heart."
"Don't be
ridiculous."
"Don't lie to
me, or to yourself."
Chantille met
his eyes as if she were trying to pierce the shadows that surrounded them, to
see what lay hidden behind that confident stare. When nothing shone forth, she
closed her eyes.
"I do want you,"
she murmured, voice raw with the force of her feelings.
The loneliness
and the need for reassurance was almost a physical presence in the room with
them, and Austin was forced to wonder just how long it had been since Chantille
L'Amour had uttered those words to any man. If she ever had.
"I want you,
too, Chantille."
Austin's
whispered words were like a soft breath of air touching her face as he leaned
forward to cover her lips with a tender kiss. She moved into the caress with a
soft gasp, and her knees seemed to buckle as Austin's tongue slipped into her
mouth with possessive hunger.
Chantille broke
the intense kiss, and her head fell back as a sigh of relief and pleasure
slipped out of her. She wrapped her arms around Austin's neck, then buried her
face against his broad shoulder as she shivered into the sensations they were
igniting in each other. She smiled at the slight catch already detectable in
Austin
Suddenly, she
eased free of his embrace and took a step back. He watched, eyes narrowed for a
moment as he waited to see why she'd withdrawn. The wariness left his gaze a few
seconds later when she lit another lamp and stood next to it.
The soft golden
glow of the flickering lamplight illuminated the deft movements of her hands as
she undid the buttons and hooks that held her gown together. Austin smiled and
went to sit in a chair near the fireplace, his eyes never leaving her. The
beautiful amethyst silk crumpled into a heap at her feet, and she gracefully
stepped free of the shimmering mass. Next, the petticoats and crinolines fell
into a crisp white pile, and she smiled, her expression faintly wicked with
delight. He forced himself to remain still while she undid the hooks of her
corset, her actions slow and deliberate. Her eyes never lost their hold on his,
and she walked toward him, hips swaying seductively.
When she was
standing directly in front of him, Austin smiled up at her. His look dropped,
and his eyes locked on the thrusting peaks of her breasts, mere inches from his
lips, nipples a soft shadow against the white of her chemise. She bent slightly
and cupped his face in her hands as she leaned into a slow, exploring kiss.
Austin's arms went around her, and he lifted her off her feet and sat her
astride his thighs as he settled deeper into the armchair. The kiss went on
forever and grew more intense with each tiny stroke of tongue they exchanged.
When he thought he'd die for want of air, she drew away again and met his
gaze.
Austin's smile
became a grin when Chantille slipped the straps of her chemise off her
shoulders, then tugged on the front of the thin garment. She peeled the material
away from her skin, offering lush ivory breasts to him. He was only vaguely
surprised when she took his hands, and kissed each palm before placing his eager
fingers over the smooth swells of her flesh. She placed her own hands on his
shoulders and slid closer to him, her thighs gliding against his.
She turned as
she pushed closer, and her breath hissed from between her teeth when he licked
slowly at the ripe nipple she'd all but guided to his lips. She kissed his
temple and pressed against him until he took the hard point into his mouth and
began to suckle. He repeated the erotic play, first lavishing attention to one
nipple, then the other, encouraged by the soft moans that escaped Chantille as
she rocked gently in his lap.
"Austin…."
"Mmm?"
"Let me
up?"
He leaned back
in the chair and released her, curiosity holding his lust at bay for the
moment.
She slid back,
laughed shakily when her knees wobbled, then she walked a few steps from him.
The light trailed her, seemed to be drawn to her within the room, and he watched
with renewed fascination as she finished opening the chemise and tossed it
aside.
She locked her gaze with his again for an instant, then smiled when his eyes followed the motion of her hands...
She locked her gaze with his again for an instant, then smiled when his eyes followed the motion of her hands...
