Chapter Three
Natalie's two days of travel had been eye-opening. She had never left the Midwest in her life, let alone flown internationally, and she had certainly never imagined flying like Nathan flew.
"I have a few things to tidy up here, but then I will be joining you in London," he said over the phone. "I'll send a car for you on Wednesday."
"What time?" she asked, and he’d laughed.
"Whenever you're ready. I own the plane."
She was sure it was a dream when she hesitantly climbed the portable staircase to enter the personal jet. It was pure luxury inside, from the plush seats to the small bedroom suite at the rear. The flight attendant was a beautiful young woman with a gracious air who was determined to help Natalie enjoy her flight, and Natalie was far too shy to do more than meekly request water and perhaps a magazine.
The driver in London picked her up in a car that she was fairly sure was actually a Rolls Royce and dropped her off in front of an elegant townhouse, pressing a key into her hand.
Natalie wasn't sure what she was expecting when she entered, but the townhouse took her breath away. Since her “interview,” she had read magazine articles about Nathan, and a part of her was expecting some kind of modern monstrosity, all chrome and distressed leather, too much light and far too many bold colors. Instead, she found herself in a home that was classically furnished, dark wood and wool furnishings everywhere. The odd woven Indian textile gave the place color and life, but there was something so soothing about the townhouse that she immediately felt at home.
It was the work of a moment to deposit her single bag in the small room that she had decided was to be her own and to enjoy a hot shower in the startlingly luxurious en suite bathroom. She should have been tired from her flight, but instead, Natalie found herself curiously investigating the home, restless enough to poke into all of the odd corners. It was beautiful, and it was certainly cozy, but there was something standoffish about it as well.
It’s because no one truly lives here, she thought. It might have been a place that Nathan enjoyed, but there were no inhabitants to give the townhouse life.
If she thought about Nathan, who was due to arrive in a few hours’ time, she knew she would likely grow too nervous to do much of anything, so for now, she pushed the thought away.
A quick search on her phone showed there was a flower market nearby, and after double checking the directions, she was off on foot.
This doesn't have to be so bad, she told herself. I'm still me. I'll control what I can, and the rest...well, we'll see about the rest, won't we?
***
Nathan came off of the flight from Chicago feeling far more tired and cross than he should. He hadn't slept well over the last few days, and he was out of sorts.
Time to admit I'm not twenty anymore, I suppose, he thought with a flinch.
Even through the irritation with London traffic, there was a part of him that wanted to see Natalie again. He wanted to find out if they had the same chemistry he had encountered when they’d first met. Would she arouse the same instinct within him? Would she respond to him the same way she had before?
He told himself that it was only kind to be patient with her, but there was something about her that made him want to pounce on her instead, as if she were a delectable little morsel that would get away too soon.
The traffic in London was even worse than he had remembered, however, and by the time he made it to the townhouse, he was starved and sore, tired in a way that made bed sound more like heaven than it should.
God, I should just fall into bed and deal with it all tomorrow.
His masculine pride was pricked at that, and there was a hunger in him that growled threateningly at the idea. He felt as if he should be unnerved at the part of himself that hungered so remorselessly for the girl that he had only met a short time ago, but instead it just felt natural.
When the driver let him off at the townhouse, Nathan had a moment of confusion. The house was lit up, which it never was before he arrived. Of course, it was foolish to think that Natalie would sit around in the dark, but something about the warm house appealed to him.
Nathan got his second surprise when he came in through the front door. The house itself was pleasant, as it always was, but he was also met with a large bouquet of cheerful white daisies on the narrow table in the entryway. They were plain and bright, a touch that made the rest of the house even more welcoming, and almost against his will, Nathan smiled.
He found Natalie herself curled up on the love seat in the living room, her phone almost falling out of her curled hand.
Poor thing looks tuckered out. I really should let both of us sleep...
He started to take the phone from her before it could fall, but he found he couldn't stop himself from tracing the curve of her cheek, touching the point of her chin. She had a quiet beauty, he decided, something almost secret, and the hunger for her awoke again.
Just as Nathan was pulling away, her bright green eyes opened. Nathan would have thought that seeing him would have made her startled or afraid, but after a brief moment of confusion, she lit up like a Christmas tree.
"Oh, you're here at last," she said with a smile. "I called your secretary, and she said you would be late, but she didn't say how late..."
"Traffic, and there were some problems with takeoff in O'Hare," Nathan said vaguely. "You've been busy."
"Oh...the flowers, you mean?" She laughed a little self-consciously. "They're silly, aren't they? I know you’re probably used to something a bit more dignified, but I saw the daisies, and they just looked so pretty."
"They're fine," he said with a slight smile. "You're doing better than I am. I figured I'd come in and find you exhausted and dead to the world."
"I am a little. But I talked with your secretary, Brooke? She's really nice, by the way. She said you had a rough day, and you would be doing all the traveling I was doing, and... Oh!"
"Oh?"
Nathan stood back as she got up and trotted to the kitchen. He had owned the property for almost four years, and he didn't think he had ever been to the kitchen.
"There's food! I figured you would be hungry, and there's nothing in the refrigerator. I hope you don't mind, I ordered a little bit of everything."
Nathan watched, bemused, as she tugged a large paper bag out from the oven. At the kitchen table, ignoring the dining room a short distance away, Natalie pulled out a variety of small plastic containers and foil packets. The oven had kept everything satisfactorily warm, and the smells, redolent of garlic, curry, roast tomato and fried flatbreads, made his mouth water.
He hadn't moved from his place by the door, and Natalie looked up at him, a cloud of worry over her face.
"I mean...I paid for all of this, flowers and food," she said, surprisingly meekly. "Did I do wrong?"
Nathan realized a bit wryly that part of his shock came from simply seeing a woman provide like this for him. He liked providing, he liked giving women things to make them smile. The last time one had so much as offered to order food for them had been lost to memory.
"You did just fine," he said, coming to sit at the table. When she looked nervous, he took her hand and tugged her into the chair next to him. The same warm spark leaped between them, but right now, he was willing to ignore it in favor of the food in front of him.
"Good," she said with relief.
As they ate and talked about their respective journeys over the ocean, her very first, Nathan could feel a warmth of a different kind come over him.
***
Natalie had thought she would be exhausted by now, but food and Nathan's company helped. She had read enough about him to think that she had an idea of his personality, but the magazines had been wrong. They talked about his good looks, but they never mentioned how wickedly funny he was, or how sly. He could make her blush and laugh by turns, and before she knew it, the clock was striking midnight.
"We should likely roll into bed," she said without thinking of it, and Nathan stood, pushing the detritus of their dinner aside.
"What a good idea," he purred, and before she knew what was happening, he tugged her into his arms.
"Nathan!"
She wasn't even sure what she was protesting. In his arms, she felt that heat she was half-convinced she had made up, and that was before he kissed her. This kiss was as wild as the one they had shared in Chicago, taunting and brilliant and hot enough to scorch. As she had in Chicago, Natalie melted into it, her arms going around him to bring him close as much as to steady herself.
"Nathan..."
"Don't worry, pretty girl. I won't hurt you, I'll take good care of you..."
Something inside her melted at his words, and she nodded. "All right..."
He swept her up in his arms, carrying her up to the master bedroom. She knew from her explorations before that it was done up in shades of red and gold, imposing and gorgeous. It was the perfect bedroom for a man who was as rich and powerful as Nathan, and as he lowered her to the bed there, she felt like a peasant wrapped in silk.
"Slow, okay?" she whispered nervously, and he laughed, coming to rest beside her.
"Whatever you like, pretty. We have all night..."
He kissed her again, and this time, he lingered over it, his touch gentle and slow because they had all the time in the world. By slow increments, she relaxed into the luxurious mattress, letting his skilled hands stroke over her face, shoulders, hips and belly. He avoided anything too intimate, and in doing so made her crave his touch in exactly those intimate places. His mouth moved over hers before dropping down to the collar of her shirt, nibbling at her throat and collarbones. She swore she could feel the heat of his hand straight through her jeans.
"You feel so good, Natalie," Nathan murmured. "Do you have any idea how good you feel?"
She made a small sound of need as he ran almost maddeningly ticklish fingers over her ribs and down to the waistband of her jeans.
"So good, you feel so good," she whimpered, and he laughed a little, the sound echoing through his frame.
"Not yet," he said. "But you'll see how good I'll feel. First, though, I think I want you aching for it."
His plan soon became terribly clear. He touched her with the expertise of a master, but he danced just shy of allowing her any kind of satisfaction. With every touch and kiss, he was ratcheting her desire higher and higher. She could feel his hard frame pressed against her, so different from her own slight body, and it was slowly driving her crazy.
"P-please, Nathan," she murmured, embarrassed at her own need, but he refused to be hurried. At her words, it felt as if he was slowing down, and then slowing down again.
His touch felt so good, so amazingly good, that it took Natalie a moment to realize that he had stopped altogether. One arm was curled underneath her, the other rested heavily on her waist, still warm enough to make her squirm.
"Nathan?"
A snore was the only thing that answered her, and for a moment Natalie was simply too shocked to think of anything.
I don't know what it says about me that he fell asleep in the middle of that, she thought, but it really was too ludicrous. She stifled a giggle and thought about her situation.
He really is exhausted. If I go back to my room and catch some shut-eye myself, we can both be on London time. That would probably be for the best.
She started to rise from the bed, but then she squeaked as his arm tightened over her. Even asleep, Nathan was ferociously strong, and he dragged her against him, her back to his chest, his arm an iron band over her waist.
"Nathan," she whispered. "Nathan, let me up."
He stirred a little, but his only response was to cuddle her tighter.
Well, he'll probably relax his hold in a little bit, she thought. For reasons she couldn't quite explain to herself, she was loath to wake him.
Instead, Natalie snuggled down next to him, prepared to roll away when his grip loosened. At least, that was the way it was supposed to go. Instead, less than fifteen minutes later, her eyes grew heavy, and she dropped off to sleep herself. She couldn't help it. In his arms, there was a kind of sweetness and safety she had never known, and she could no more resist him than a daisy could resist being carried along by a fast-moving stream.