Chapter 18
CARRIE
His house is huge. Well, house is probably the wrong term to use. It’s a mansion.
An extraordinary mansion. It’s the kind of place I gaze openly at as I drive through Beverly Hills. It’s the kind of place that tourists take photos of when they go on street tours of L.A., if they can get that close.
His home is mind-blowing. As Blake navigates his car down his long driveway to the garage, I can’t believe that I am going to spend the next few days here.
“You like it?” He asks knowingly, smiling to himself as he notices my mouth hanging open.
“Just a bit,” I say, not even bothering to hide my awe. “How do you afford this? I thought you said you produced small, independent films?”
“I do,” he assures me. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t pay well. Plus, I made a few smart investments when I was younger.”
“Like what?”
“Property,” he says, nodding to the house.
This one gets a laugh out of me, and I don’t even care that my defenses are down slightly. I was worried about him earlier, and whether or not I am doing the right thing. But now, as he pulls his car into a garage that’s as big as my apartment, I can’t help think that I’m on the right track.
Once the car is parked, he jumps from the driver’s side and hustles his way across to the trunk to collect my bag. He’s there before I even have my seat belt off, and as I reach for the door handle, he beats me to it and opens the door for me.
“May I?” He asks, holding out his hand for me to take.
“You may,” I reply, offering him a bemused smile. The whole thing is a little over the top, and yet, I can’t help but be impressed by it. It’s impossibly romantic.
He opens the door to the house, leading me inside. As I step through the door and into the foyer, I don’t know what to gape at first. The inside of the house is as breathtaking as the outside. Modern everything is the theme. It’s spacious, warm and inviting.
I want to live here. I want this to be mine.
Not only does the house impress the hell out of me, but I am also blown away by the reception itself. Standing by the door, waiting to greet us, is who I assume to be the housekeeper. She holds two glasses of Champagne, one in each hand.
“Would you like a drink?” Blake asks as he steps inside. “I figure you may as well take advantage of it now, while you can.”
“True. And I’ve never been one to say no to a free drink.”
Once we both have our glasses, Blake takes my hand and leads me to the living room. Again, I gasp openly when I see what he has waiting for me. There are dozens of roses spread out on the floor. He walks forward and picks up one.
“I didn’t know what your favorite flower was. So I deigned to get you the most beautiful one, instead. For no other reason than to match your beauty.”
I blush heavily as I take the rose from his hand. It’s real, too. I can’t believe the effort he has gone through.
“That’s got to be it right? No more surprises?” I let out an exaggerated sigh, as if the whole ordeal has tired me out.
“Well,” he begins, a smirk on his face.
“What is it?” I ask.
He takes my hand and leads me through a small hallway to what I instantly guess to be the kitchen. I guess this because the smell hits me as soon as I step foot in the hallway. And as I walk down the hallway, the smell gets stronger and stronger.
“My God!” I exclaim, taking a deep whiff. “What is that?”
We walk into the kitchen. It’s a small kitchen, but a busy one. There are two chefs, hard at work. Seeing us, they offer a brief nod before going back to work. I look over their shoulders, trying, but failing, to guess what they are making me.
“It’s grilled salmon,” Blake says, seeing my curiosity. “With avocado mango salad, coconut rice, a side salad and, for dessert, chocolate cake.”
My eyes bulge as he rattles off what we are going to be eating. “Seriously, Blake you didn’t have to.”
“Yeah, I did,” he smirks. “Are you hungry?”
“Suddenly, I am. I can’t imagine why?”
“Boys, how long?” He asks the two chefs.
“Five minutes,” one of them replies.
“Perfect!” Blake smiles. “Shall we?”
He holds his hand out for me. I take it without hesitation, and he leads me from the kitchen to the dining room.
The dining room table is already set, with a glass of Champagne waiting for me. I haven’t even touched the one currently clutched in my hand. I’ve been far too mesmerized by the night. I quickly drink it, finishing it before I reach the table. This allows for me to scoop up the next one.
“Professional,” Blake jokes as he watches me.
“Preparing for an upcoming dry spell,” I reply as I take a seat.
Blake joins me, and we engage in some light-hearted, not-too-serious banter as we wait for our food. The conversation is, as always, free flowing and natural. If it wasn’t for the fact that it is my first night in the house, I would assume that I was a regular.
The food is served exactly five minutes after we sit down, and it tastes just as good as it smells. In fact, I have to work hard to control myself from guzzling down everything put in front of me. So instead, I take small portions, allowing the flavors to work over my tongue. Never filling up, but always satisfied.
This is helped by the Champagne, too. I have one more glass before the food arrives and then another before I take my first bite. It is as I’m about to dig into the dessert that I suddenly become aware of how tipsy I am feeling.
It’s not on purpose. It’s just that in the moment, because of how nice the food and drink is, I have gotten a little carried away.
The only reassurance is that Blake appears to be feeling it as well, albeit, not as much as I am. Truth be told, I am feeling a little nervous. Tonight is the night that Blake and I are finally going to have sex. Although I have been looking forward to it with relish and desire, I am obviously a little nervous. Who wouldn’t be?
Hence, why I am drinking so freely. But either way, as I dig into the cake, trying not to moan over the taste as I finish it, I become aware of the way that Blake is looking at me. It’s a look of desire and temptation, and it can only mean one thing. He wants me.