Chapter Eleven
A morning bursting with warm sun rays woke me to the sight of Ben. My lavender rose heart skipped a beat, stretched and reached for its sun. He was looking out of my bedroom window, wearing nothing but pajama pants. He ran his fingers through his dark hair then turned and faced me, smiled coyly and shook his head gently from side to side.
I had to touch him.
I sat up, leaned forward, grabbed his hand and pulled him towards me. He landed beside me on the bed and tried to sit up, but I placed both of my hands on his chest, pushed him back down and straddled him.
His eyes darkened and his lips parted as he put his hands behind his head, changing my lavender rose heart to a red rose heart of desire, infusing my life force with damask, with notes of grapefruit and freesia, moss, cystus, and musk. I inhaled deeply, savoring the intoxicating, sensual scent.
‘So, Mr. Adams … how long do I get to borrow you for?’ I asked as I floated back to the present.
‘Two days, Miss Boswell,’ he whispered, and set his smoldering eyes on my lips. He placed his hand behind my head and pulled my lips to his in a slow soft kiss, then executed a perfect body roll so I was buried beneath his glorious form.
He pulled away and took a deep breath. ‘Let’s go for a walk,’ he said with his eyes closed, ‘before it is too late!’
‘Too late for what?’ I asked, perplexed.
He opened his eyes and shook his head, looked down and gave me a crooked smile.
My red rose heart skipped a beat. How could he be so beautiful?
He stood from the bed and held out his hand to me.
How could I resist?