32. Roman
My heart sank at the idea of Isabel braving the streets alone at night. Her independence was admirable, but damn if I wasn’t hypersensitive to anything that might pose a danger to her.
A second after receiving her text, I called. Seeing her face sent a wave of pleasure spiraling through me, but first things first. “What do you mean keep you company on your walk? Please tell me you’re not walking the streets alone at night.”
She tried to quell my worry. If I was there with her, she’d soothe me with a kiss. “Oh, listen to you. I’ve walked these two blocks from the studio to my home for close to three years every other night, Roman. The world is not completely apocalyptic outside of Belmont Manor, you know.”
“Promise me you’ll drive next time,” he said. “Do it for your safety and my peace of mind.”
It only struck me then that she might not have a car. Of course, if the nymph would allow it, that could be rectified in an instant. But God help me if I had to present her with a new car. Her reluctance to accept gifts was endearing and at the same time also a bit riling.
“Fine,” she said vaguely, which confirmed my suspicion that there was no car in the picture. She immediately distracted me. “So what are you doing in your office? Aren’t you supposed to be enjoying your birthday?”
“The party left with you,” I said. “I had a lovely dinner with Emily, and now I’m just catching up on some work because tomorrow is going to be brutal. A small price to pay for my free hours today.”
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” she teased.
A grim chuckle accompanied my affectionate scowl. “By the way,” I said. “How was your dance rehearsal? I hope it was worth forfeiting the fifth orgasm.”
Her face puckered adorably. “About as good as you would expect. I hurt in places I didn’t even know I had.”
I bit a smile. “I feel responsible, but I can’t say I regret a thing. As I said, and if it’s any consolation, I’m a little tender myself.”
“Then maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t stay.
“No, it’s a terrible thing, why would you say that?” I chuckled. “We could have kissed each other better.”
“Oh God, in our condition that sounds like a saucy prequel to an Emergency Room visit.”
“We have a medical team on call right here at the estate, my sweet.”
She giggled in that breathy way of hers. “Imagine, the heir to the empire explaining to the neurosurgeon on call that his big penis is ouchie after frolicking with the help.”
An incredulous laugh rumbled through my chest. “Do you hear yourself sometimes?”
“Meg is of the opinion that a few centuries ago I would have been the first to burn at the stake for saying some of the things I do,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
“I prefer to think you might have been the perfect muse to William Shakespeare.”
“Pity in your line of business you don’t need a muse,” she said.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I objected. “I do need a muse, do I ever.”
“But your business is abstract and full of numbers.”
“It nonetheless requires inspiration, and that’s what muses are for.”
“Are you asking me to be your muse?”
“Yes. Will you be my muse, Isabel?”
“Let me think about it,” she said and stopped in her tracks. “I’m home. Let me take the opportunity to thank you for gallantly escorting me to safety.”
“Take me on a tour through your place.”
My request was met with a modest smile. “If you think after staying in that amazing apartment of yours today, I’m now going to give you a grand tour of my humble abode, you have another thing coming. I’m now heading for a shower because I’m terribly sweaty.”
“I like you sweaty,” I murmured, imagining the dew drops in the hollow of her throat when she lay spent from making love.
Her laughter rang out again, and on second thought she curbed it with a fist in her mouth before she whispered conspiratorially “Our near-deaf landlady who lives on the ground floor just peeked through her curtain. I’m being too loud. Maybe I’ll send you a pic after my shower, then you can take that to your dreams. But give me an hour. I have some pastries to bake first.”