“Is it?”
“Yes. Come and sit down.”
He gave her a half smile and walked over to the blanket, sitting down next to her. “All right. Now explain this epic romantic fantasy.”
“In my mind, when I thought of romance, I pictured picnics and dancing. Well, we’ve danced. And now we’ll picnic.
In lieu of a green field dotted with daisies, I’ve opted for an oatmeal carpet and warmth.”
“Good choice.” He paused for a moment, his eyes intense on hers. “But don’t weave too many romantic fantasies around me.”
Her throat tightened. Too late. “Of course not. We both know what this is.”
Except she wasn’t sure she knew what it was, not really. She felt too much for it to be a fling. Or was that normal? She couldn’t be sure. Her seasonal friends had flings, and they spoke of it with a sort of light humor. But Eva didn’t feel any humor in regards to Mak. She couldn’t imagine recounting intimate details of their time together over coffee, while laughing.
It felt too private. Too personal. It was hers. Theirs.
“Good,” he said, picking up a plate and starting on his chicken.
She suddenly didn’t feel very hungry. Still, she made a show of chewing on a piece of bread for longer than was strictly necessary.
This was a fantasy, and she knew it. At least, she vaguely knew it. Knew that when their time in the chalet ended, they ended too. Knew that this was borrowed time at its most precious and brief. But she wished she didn’t know it.
When she went back, there would, potentially, be another man waiting for her. The man she was supposed to share forever with.
It was cruel. She had this little window of time with Mak, and then after that, eternity with a husband she didn’t care about.
Now her appetite really was gone.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Uh, yes. Really. Fine.” Breaking apart inside, but she’d survive. She had no other choice.
“Good. This dinner is good.”
“Liesel made it. I can’t claim any credit.”
“Ah. Did she go home for the evening?”
“Yes,” Eva said. “‘I think I want dessert.”
“You’ve barely touched dinner.”
“That’s fine. I don’t want it.” She reached beneath the edge of the blanket and pulled out a condom packet. “Dessert first will suit me just fine,” she said, holding it out to him.
He set his plate on the couch, his eyes blank, guarded. “You had a plan for the evening. Another part of your longheld fantasy?”
She shook her head. “No. This is new. I had some pretty girlish fantasies. But now … well, now I know what it means to really want someone. To want you. And that’s a lot more important than food to me right now.”
It went beyond a physical hunger though. She needed the connection, needed him to be joined to her, to be inside her. Needed to be connected to him. She needed something to make her feel whole, to stop the endless, empty ache that was spreading through her.
He stood and she did too. He tugged the edge of the blanket, clearing the space in front of the fireplace before walking to her, taking her in his arms and kissing her as if she was the best thing he’d tasted all day.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, pouring everything into it. Her fear, her frustration, her passion.
He unzipped her dress and it fell to her feet. She pushed it aside and kept kissing him while she tugged his shirt up over his head, running her hands over his sculpted chest, his chest hair prickling her palms as she explored his body. She would never get enough of him. He was beautiful, sculpted and lean, the ultimate fantasy.
But it wasn’t about that. That might have sparked her initial attraction, but his beauty came from somewhere else, somewhere deeper. Whether he saw it in himself or not, it didn’t matter. She did.
They took turns discarding clothes, between kisses and sighs, and when he laid her down on the blanket, she looked at him for a long time, her hands stroking his cheeks, his lips, tracing the line of his jaw.
Words hovered on her lips. Words she was too scared to speak, too scared even to think. She didn’t want to know what they were, not exactly, or why they felt as though they would burst from her if she didn’t bite down hard on her lower lip.