Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
I nod, grateful for her kindness. “Thank you. That sounds wonderful.”
And it does sound wonderful. I love a night snuggled up with a good book beside a cozy fire.
But I’m not here to stay in my comfort zone.
I’m here to be a brave new Maya.
With that in mind, I follow Raven through the heavy door, into a room that smells of mulling spices and expensive whiskey. As my eyes adjust to the brighter light, I take in what has to be the most beautiful bar I’ve ever seen.
Soaring ceilings painted with clouds and cherubs float above walls covered in gleaming gold leaf and mirrors cut into geometric art deco patterns. A massive curved bar dominates one wall, its dark mahogany surface polished to a mirror shine and backed by shelves of glittering bottles that stretch all the way to the ceiling.
Crystal decanters catch the light from several chandeliers, sending rainbow prisms dancing across the black marble floor. Men and women in effortlessly chic evening wear lounge on velvet banquettes or perch on brass bar stools, their quiet conversation creating a low, intimate hum that makes my skin tingle.
The library we pass through next is even more impressive. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line every wall, filled with leather-bound volumes in muted jewel tones. A spiral staircase made of wrought iron curves up to a second-level gallery, where more books and intimate seating areas wait in shadowy alcoves. Here, the air smells of leather, old paper, and something spicy and sensual.
Maybe incense?
Or maybe it’s the cologne the gorgeous older man beside the fire is wearing…
I gape at him as we near his table, my mouth falling open as I take in his tousled brown hair with the hint of gray at the temples, broad shoulders, and perfectly tailored suit. He looks like a movie star from a bygone age. and I’m possessed by the certainty that I’d like to sit close to him.
Very close.
So close I’d know for sure if that delicious sweet-tobacco, clove, and leather scent was coming from him or the bowls of herbs on the mantel…
As we pass by, his gaze locks with mine for a split second, but that’s all it takes to electrify me from head to toe. My pulse jumps in my throat, my breath catches, and suddenly I’m positive he feels it too, this instant, powerful curiosity.
He wants to know me as much as I want to know him.
And he wouldn’t mind if I pulled up the chair across from his and joined him for a drink…or something more.
A beat later, Raven turns left, and the gorgeous man is behind us, but I swear, I can feel his eyes on me, burning between my shoulder blades, making me keenly aware of my dress’s low back and every inch of bare skin along the hollow of my spine.
Wow…
I never expected anything like that to happen tonight. Nothing like that has ever happened to me, not in my entire life. I was beginning to think I wasn’t an “instant chemistry” kind of girl.
But maybe I am.
And maybe sticking around the club after my meeting would be okay, after all…
My plan was to speak to Twyla about my special request, hopefully get confirmation that I’ve been approved for one of her “top-secret” services, and head back to my hotel to recover from the trauma of doing hard new things.
But this isn’t nearly as scary as I thought it would be.
Most of the patrons seem older than I am by a good ten or fifteen years, but I’ve always been more comfortable with older people. According to my parents, I was born an old soul, always more at ease in the kitchen chatting with my adult relatives at family gatherings than outside running wild with my cousins.
And these people seem nice. Their smiles as they chat are genuine, their laughter is warm. They seem like lovely, ordinary people enjoying a festive Christmas Eve with friends…or reading alone in sexy solitude like a hero ripped straight from my romantic fantasies.
Suddenly, I feel silly for assuming The Garden’s patrons would be sex-crazed deviants desperate for a carnal fix.
After all, Weaver isn’t a deviant.
I mean, he probably is in the bedroom—the look in his eyes when he watches Sully cross a room can get pretty predatory at times—but that’s only part of his personality. There’s a lot more to Weaver.
Maybe there’s more to me, too. Maybe I can be the good, dutiful, responsible girl my parents raised me to be and a wild child who approaches gorgeous older men at sex clubs…
Sex club.
I’m really inside a sex club.
The bizarre reality hits all over again, making my heart beat faster as Raven presses a code into a keypad hidden behind a fold in yet another heavy velvet curtain, opening a door concealed in the wall’s wooden panel. With a bracing breath, I follow her up the stairs, doing my best not to hyperventilate.