Chapter 54

ELEANOR

I spent all day stressed out and staring at my wardrobe and ended up getting dressed very quickly.

I chose a short dark blue dress. It had a high neckline, an open crisscrossed back, a small gold belt, and a flared skirt that skimmed up mid-thigh.

Having never been to the opera, I had no idea if it was appropriate or not.

I added a pair of golden earrings and strappy dark blue heels before dashing out the door, grabbing a black shawl on my way.

As I marched down the cobblestoned street, the sunlight was slowly fading over the tops of the buildings.

I was trying to convince myself that Aric had seen millions of beautiful women in beautiful dresses over five centuries, that my little get-up wasn’t going to impress him much.

I still didn’t understand why or how someone like him could even look at me, let alone be interested in being in a relationship with me. Even less understandable, I was the one holding back.

He completely confused me. My memories of him were jumbled together, a child’s vision of her big brother who was always there to care for her, play with her, and teach her amazing things.

Seeing him as an adult had been the shock of my life. I knew; I remembered he was beautiful, but I hadn’t expected him to be so breathtaking or for us to share such a strong attraction.

I could not stop thinking about him since he left. We texted a lot about my work, his compositions, about the weather. I often texted him pictures of the sunny days.

I was feeling giddy, excited to see him—excited to have him hug me again, to feel him near me.

I stood outside the Toulouse Opera house. The sun was still up, as it often was very late in the evening in summer.

I sat down on the front steps and ignored the odd looks I was receiving from the older couples entering the opera house.

My phone ringing startled me, and I answered it quickly.

“Eleanor.” His voice was deep and gravelly. It made my whole body tense.

“Aric? Are you on your way?”

“I will meet you inside, beautiful,” he said softly. “I don’t want you to miss the beginning on my account. Is that okay?” He actually sounded nervous.

“Of course,” I stood up, knocking at the dirt on the skirt of my dress. “I can meet you inside. Do we have assigned seats?”

“Yes, your seat number is written on the ticket I sent you. I will meet you inside, beautiful,” he replied.

“Okay, see you in there,” I said, stepping up the stairs and slipping inside the great building.

The reception hall was old, large, and brightly lit. Young men and women dressed in matching black and white suits stood behind a small booth placed before the golden stairway.

My eyes followed the richly decorated double staircase as it disappeared behind a great red curtain. Well-dressed couples mingled in the room, sipping white wine, reading the pamphlets, and laughing.

I made my way to the booth and presented my ticket to a young woman. She punched a hole in it and smiled at me.

“~Suivez-moi madame,~” she murmured, stepping back from the booth and indicating up the stairs.

She guided me up the right staircase and into a long hallway. It was lined with heavy red curtains, small alcoves containing little vases, and Renaissance paintings.

She took me to the end of the hall then up another smaller staircase. We got to another hallway and walked down it for another minute.

Finally, she stopped and pulled back the red curtains with a small smile.

“Magnifique,” I murmured. We were on a private balcony, seemingly in the middle of the opera room. Two large golden chairs with red velvet sat facing out.

Before me, the opera room was brightly lit, decorated in gold and red. The stage was enormous, covered with a large red curtain. Below me, the room was quickly filling with operagoers finding their seats.

Around the room, the balconies were also filling with giddy couples taking their seats.

I thanked the girl and sat down on one of the soft plush seats.

I set my bag on the little golden hook hidden behind the balcony and leaned forward. I had a magnificent view of the stage, but also of all the people below and around me on the balconies.

I grinned at all the balding heads, the bright lights shining off them brilliantly. A piece of tranquil music was playing while everyone filed in and found their seats.

Eventually, the room grew quiet as the lights were dimmed and banging band music began to play from the live band below the stage.

The curtain was lifted, and a woman stood in the center of the stage, dressed in a Renaissance dress and a headscarf over her head. She started singing, soft and gentle at first, then with more passion.

The music was passionate and soulful. Her voice left goosebumps over my skin.

I picked up the chair and scooted it closer to the railing so I could lean on it. I felt like I could feel the music in my body, the high notes almost reaching a sort of ecstasy.

When her song finished, she was joined on stage by a man, dressed in the same time-period garments and singing softly to her. His deep voice sent tremors through my body.

“Wow,” I whispered, feeling my chest swell with emotion. I was obviously an opera lover.

“I knew you would love it,” his voice said right next to my ear. I felt his cool breath against my throat. I jumped in surprise and spun around.

Aric stood behind my chair, dressed like a perfect gentleman in fitted black pants and a pure white fitted shirt tucked in with a dark blue blazer tossed nonchalantly over his shoulder.

My breath caught in my throat, and for a second, the opera, the amazing music, and all the people in the room seemed to disappear completely, and only Aric was there with me.

His eyes were almost purple, in mid-transition to red as he sat down in the chair next to me, scooting it forward as well. His gaze never left mine.

“You look beautiful, Eleanor,” he told me, his eyes breaking from mine to slowly move over my body. I felt my skin rise in goosebumps as his gaze grazed over me.

“Aric,” I smiled at him, feeling my heart swell. He smiled back at me and reached out his hand, placing it on the arm of my chair. I slipped my fingers through his, and he squeezed my hand, smiling.

“This is amazing,” I whispered to him, leaning over so my face was close to his.

He smiled and turned to face me, the stubble on his cheek grazing lightly against my skin.

“I’m glad, Eleanor. The opera is the height of musical accomplishment and beauty,” he whispered, his lips touching my earlobe.

I shivered. He squeezed my hand and leaned back, his eyes moving to the stage. I followed his example, absolutely enthralled with the music and singers.

The opera singers moved about the stage from aria to aria. They each seemed more beautiful to me.

I was so absorbed by the music I had not even realized I was leaning against the railing, both arms folded, my chin resting on my hands.

Aric’s hand had moved from mine and was slowly caressing up and down my bare back.

A deep pooling of desire was building in my core, and I had no idea if it was from the opera or Aric’s touch, but I felt totally and entirely blissful at that moment. Everything felt right.

Aric’s calloused fingers moved slowly up and down my spine. He traced them down my side, lightly brushing over the side of my breast and down to my waist, to my hips.

He was following the exact pace of the music. His touch was making my heart race, and I knew he could hear it.

His hand slipped forward and traced down my thigh, resting, as the music ended, just above my bare knee.

“This was amazing, Aric,” I murmured to him. “Better than sex!”

He barked out a quick laugh, his blue eyes shining. “You haven’t had sex with me yet,” he answered, a wicked glint in his eyes.

I blushed immediately and tried to brush it off, rolling my eyes. But my heart was beating faster still, and I could help that crazy pooling of arousal that was only getting stronger between my legs.

I definitely wanted to.

Aric was looking smug. He winked at me, his hand still on my thigh, his fingers dancing lightly against my bare skin, sending wild tingling through my legs, straight up to my core.

He had every reason to be smug. He already knew, just as I did, that I wouldn’t be able to resist him much longer. He already knew, like I did, that we were going to be together.

I wanted to wipe that smug smile off his face, to see how far he would take this.

I very slowly let my legs fall apart, not so much as to be spread open but no longer squeezed together, giving him full access if he dared to take it.

His gaze flickered from the opera to my face as I leaned forward again to take in the next aria. I felt his hand resting on my thigh, not moving, the smug look on his face completely gone.

I grinned. I had called his bluff. He wouldn’t go any further without my consent.

The room grew quiet, then suddenly burst into thunderous applause as the lights came on.

“Intermission,” Aric breathed, squeezing my knee. I drew back from the railing and gazed at him, my eyes wide, brimming with tears and my heart racing.

“Do you want me to get you anything to eat or drink? The show’s on for another hour and a half,” he asked.

“No, thank you,” I smiled. “But I’ll go to the restroom quickly.” I stood up and moved to the curtain drawn behind us. Aric watched me. I turned around and smiled at him.

“By the way, Aric, that was me wanting you to touch me.” I winked at him and ran off before he could answer.

The restroom had quite a long line for women, so I was underwhelmed and ran back to our balcony after opening two others by mistake.

Just as I pushed the curtains open, the lights dimmed again, and the band started to play.

“Eleanor.” Aric was suddenly by my side, his hands sliding into place around my waist. He pulled me against his chest, his hands forming fists at the small of my back.

“You smell so good,” he growled, his head dipping, his lips grazing over my throat.

“Don’t tempt me, Eleanor. Don’t play with me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself if you continue.”

My heart skipped a beat as he drew back, his eyes blazing red. There would be no going back now. I wanted him just as much as he wanted me.

“Then don’t hold back any longer, Aric. I’m saying yes.”

I barely got the words out before Aric had me pinned against the marble column, one hand slipping down my back and grasping my ass while the other slid up my body and gently lifted my chin, so my gaze met his.

His eyes were bright red, boring into mine. Excruciatingly slowly, he dipped his head down so that our lips met in a passionate kiss.

He held the back of my head, his fingers gliding through my hair as his soft lips moved gently against mine, pushing my lips apart as his tongue moved into my mouth.

His hand on my ass caressed and squeezed. His hand cupped my face gently as he completely and utterly dominated our kiss. I was putty in his hands.

I melted against him, lost in a thousand sensations, the passionate music, the feel of his hands on my skin, the softness of his lips, and the power that radiated from his body.

When he drew back, I almost fell. He held me steady, his hands on my shoulders to stabilize me. He grinned down at me, his red eyes twinkling. “Eleanor—”

I grasped his shoulders, lifted myself onto my tiptoes, grabbed his head, and pulled it down to mine, pressing my lips against his again. This time Aric wasn’t slow and gentle.

A weird growl erupted from his lips, and he slammed me against him, his fingers tracing down my bare back, his lips tearing from mine and trailing wet hot kisses down my throat.

His other hand slid around my ass, squeezing, sliding down to my thighs, and lifting me in one swift, effortless movement. My legs wrapped around his waist.

I grasped at him, my arms around his neck, in his hair, pulling him closer to me. And everything was perfect because that was exactly where I wanted to be.

I felt my whole body burning, my heart racing so fast it could burst from my chest. In his arms, I felt transformed, like I was glowing, ablaze.