Page 57 of Earl
“We make our own happiness. Thanks,” she accepted the cup and settled back against the butter soft leather. “I decided to replace the ugly memories of the holiday and make my own.”
“Scars run deep.” He turned sideways, his knees brushing hers. “My parents made Christmas a living hell for us. We would get all these expensive gifts and be allowed to stay up past bedtime only because they had to entertain.
Evelyn and I would stay in my sitting room with our nanny and open our gifts. We were isolated of course because we were not allowed downstairs at all.
After the obligatory parties, they would both go their separate ways. Mother to her many charitable luncheons and father to his mistresses.” His mouth twisted cynically. “Evelyn and I were left to entertain ourselves.”
“And to think I used to envy rich kids.”
He stared at her for a moment before laughing, the sound echoing around the room.
“I have never met anyone like you before.”
“That’s a good thing.” She was pleased that she had managed to dispel the bitterness from his features.
“What do you think?” He gestured to the dessert she was eating.
“It is scrumptious. Between your excellent cooking and this sinfully richness, I am full. When did you learn to cook?”
“We were not allowed in the kitchen, but the chef was a really nice guy and when I expressed an interest in learning, he would sneak in lessons. I found that I loved it and experimented whenever I had a chance.”
“Which is not often.”
“No.”
They finished the coffee, and he cleared the tray away, taking it into the kitchen. When he came back, she was breathless, waiting for him to start taking off her clothes, but he just sat back down and placed a hand at the back of the sofa, near to her.
“Your designs are…unusual.”
She arched her brows at him, trying to squelch her disappointment.
“By unusual, don’t you mean, scandalous.”
“Some of them are!” His eyes wandered over her face and settled on her lips. “What gave you the inspiration?”
Her breath was backed up inside her throat and it took a few seconds for her to breathe.
“I wanted to be the best, wanted to veer away from the usual. Plus-sized women do not usually get a fair rating in the fashion industry. I wanted to change that. Besides, I also wanted to design things I wanted to wear.”
“For example, that blouse.” He nodded to the almost transparent lace. “One of yours?”
“Yes.” Her breathing was shallow as his eyes settled on her bosom. She was almost certain he could see the imprint of her nipples straining against the fabric.
His eyes lifted to hers and were smoldering with desire.
“Cathy.”
“Yes.”
“I cannot wait,” he rasped. “If I don’t make love to you right now, I am going to die.”
“Then don’t.” She whispered.
He stood there for a few more seconds before rising and extending a hand to her.
“There is a fireplace in my bedroom.”
Her hand trembled as she placed it in his, her heartbeat accelerating as he closed strong fingers around hers. Lacing their fingers together, he led them out of the room and turned left to the staircase that branched off in both directions. He took the right, leading them to a set of carved oak doors that were slightly open.