Dream Lover Page 2

  He smiled.

  That smile quite literally took her breath away. The glint in his eye told her without a doubt that this man was well-used to the effect he had on women. She couldn’t help herself. She smiled back at him and waited for him to answer her.

  “Have I irritated you in my frank appreciation of your beauty?” he asked softly, still speaking German. “I am afraid that I was rather rude. I do apologize for causing you embarrassment. That was not my goal, I assure you.”

  “And what is your goal, mein Herr?” she demanded in rapid German.

  He gave her another of those breathtaking smiles. “No Field Marshal divulges his campaign plans to his opponent, Fraulein,” he answered smoothly in his native tongue.

  “Battle plans!” Edwina spluttered in English. “In what way are we at war?”

  His smile became even broader as he answered her in English, “In the same elemental way that man and woman have always been at war, until they mutually conquer and surrender one to the other. I do not believe that the initial surrender will be long coming for either with us. You tremble at my touch and that quivering is not from fear. We desire one another greatly.”

  Edwina felt her face grow warm again. “Are you always so blunt?”

  “Actually, I am usually far more blunt than I have been tonight,” he replied with no apology, only self-knowledge, in his voice. “I have little patience for people who are less than straightforward. But that is a personal idiosyncrasy.”

  “I see,” she replied not wanting to be drawn further into his banter in any language. She did not have either the time or the energy to become involved with him or anyone else right now. There was work to be done. Still, she knew from her dreams that he was a man who would demand nothing less than a woman’s full devotion. However, the rewards for that devotion would be extraordinary. He would return many times over all the devotion lavished upon him.

  “Do you see?” he demanded. “Perhaps you do at that.”

  “Since you have a great appreciation for bluntness, I’ll ask these two questions. Why have you come?” Edwina demanded. “What do you want from me?”

  “What do I want from you? Let’s start with the simplest of things.”

  “By all means.”

  “Do you carry pennyroyal?”

  Of all the things he could have asked for this was the most unexpected. She felt a surge of disappointment. Then she was upset with herself for feeling disappointed. He’d come into her shop. It was unreasonable to expect that he might want something other than some of the merchandise she stocked.

  “To what use were you planning to put pennyroyal?”

  “Why would you want to know that?” he asked softly, yet there was an edge of annoyance in his voice. This was clearly not a man who was used to being questioned about anything.

  She looked at him over the top of her eyeglasses. It was a look that had been well known to make Freshman Biology students quiver in their boots back in her days as a doctoral candidate teaching assistant. But all he did was grin as though he was borderline amused at her mild effort to put him in his place.

  “I should have thought that was obvious. The use determines the form of the herb you will need,” she explained with exaggerated patience.

  He thought about that for a moment before he replied, “Of course. The herb is for my dog, Brutus. I place loose pennyroyal in his bedding and put a few drops of essential oil on his brush when I groom him. A few drops of oil are all that is necessary. Yet my supply is nearly depleted of both oil and herb.”

  “Pennyroyal is far more pleasant smelling, and far less toxic, than most commercial flea remedies, at least for all male households,” she told him easily as she moved to the mirrored display area where she kept the essential oils. She had thought he was right behind her, but the only reflection she saw in the mirror was her own face.

  “How big is Brutus?” she asked as she turned around and gently placed the vial of essential oil upon the antique gray marble counter.

  She saw with some relief that his attention was fixed on a set of bronze patio furniture near the back of the shop. He hadn’t been behind her. Naturally, since he hadn’t been there, there had been no reflection of him in the mirror. She mentally chided herself for having an overly active imagination.

  It was a beautiful set of furniture at which he was looking. She wouldn’t have taken it in on consignment if it had been other than beautiful.

  She spoke, “Jeff, the man who made that set, holds a Masters of Fine Arts in Sculpture and does what he calls ‘practical and original art for gardens’. If you like his style, but not that particular set, he will do commissioned work.”

  He turned to face the shopkeeper. “It is not a production run item, then?”

  “No. All of his work is unique. He made that set on speculation for display in the shop. He never does two sets that are quite the same. He has a low tolerance for boredom. But much of that comes from the fact that he is utterly brilliant.”

  “I can believe that. The workmanship in the piece is absolutely extraordinary. It’s quite beautifully made as well as being a handsome set of furniture.”

  “He’s quite meticulous about his workmanship. Some artists aren’t. But Jeff comes from a furniture making family. Granted, he doesn’t make furniture like his father and grandfather did or that his brothers do. But, he’s holding up the family tradition in his own special way.”

  He looked at the price tag once more. “You know him quite well then this artist Jeff?” he asked carefully.

  Edwina wanted to tell him that this was none of his business. Instead, she explained, “Jeff keeps company with my cousin Emily. I suspect that they will marry someday. Neither of them however seems in any tearing hurry about taking that step.”

  The man smiled in what she thought was relief as he looked at her. “I see.”

  “Now, about your dog? What breed is he?”

  “Brutus is a bull mastiff.”

  “A guard dog?”

  “He is.”

  She’d bagged up dried pennyroyal earlier in the day to sell for dog bedding. She reached under the counter for a “large dog” bag of the herb. That went on the counter as well.

  He walked over to the counter. “Why the qualification about this herb being suitable in an all male household?” he asked, obviously curious.

  “Pennyroyal oil is a natural abortifacient. Taken internally, it can easily be lethal as it may cause massive hemorrhaging. If absorbed through a pregnant woman’s skin it can lead to miscarriage. It may also birth defects in her unborn child, if it happens to prove non lethal to both mother and child.”

  “And yet you stock the herb.”

  “I am not a married woman,” she replied quietly.

  “Is that a guarantee that you will not become with child?” he asked quietly, a tone of disbelief, even world-weary skepticism, in his voice.

  Edwina fought back her blush and lost. This conversation was entirely too embarrassing. “You ask many questions that are entirely none of your business.”

  “On the contrary, you are as drawn to me as I am to you. That makes everything about you my business, just as it makes everything about me your business. We will know one another as intimately as any man and woman ever can know one another. We will know each other better than most couples ever know one another.”

  Edwina might be able to deny the attraction she felt for him. She had never been a liar and wasn’t about to begin now. She felt her face grow even warmer and knew that she was quite likely a bright shade of crimson. “You are presumptive, Klaus!”

  “It is rare to find a beautiful woman who can still blush so beautifully,” he said quietly as he came around the counter to her. “You are an incredible woman, Edwina Elizabeth. However, I am not presuming anything. And you are quite enough of a woman to know that.”

  There was nothing at the moment that she wanted any more than she wanted to be in his arms. That strong desire, almost compuls
ion, to get close to a man whom she did not know except from her dreams shocked her. She had never thought of herself as a particularly wanton woman. If anything, she was considered by most people to be incredibly straight-laced, bordering on totally asexual. Only she was privy to her dreams and fantasies.

  She did not resist as he pulled her into his strong embrace. She couldn’t think of any place that she wanted to be more than to be held by him at this moment.

  Klaus kissed her deeply, possessively, as if he had every right to plunder her mouth. His mouth moved on hers with an expertise that totally overwhelmed her. He tasted warm, utterly masculine, and completely addictive. But then again, that was how he had always tasted in her dreams. Being in his arms felt like coming home. Yet, his kiss was so intoxicating that she knew that she would have fallen had he not been holding her so tightly against him.

  He held her even more firmly with one arm while the other hand tangled in her hair, adjusting her head so that he had full possession of her mouth. She was warm and sweet and so responsive that all he could think about was how they would be in bed together. Explosive would be the only word for it. Visions of silk sheets and her naked body writhing in ecstasy beneath him danced through his mind.

  No other woman had ever tasted quite like her. No one else had ever shown him the same mix of emotions in a single kiss. Edwina gave him no practiced seduction, no well thought-out plan to entice, no sense of premeditation at all. She simply gave him freely from the fire in her soul.

  He wanted more. He wanted everything that she could give him. He knew that he could take her, right here, right now. She would yield.

  Yet, he wanted more than to simply possess her for a brief time. He wanted her permanently, completely. He needed her to come to him out of her own free will—a free, informed, and conscious choice. Seducing her, bending her to his will, was something he knew he could easily do.

  Klaus knew that she would quite rightly resent that. Then her resentment would build a wall between them. He couldn’t afford that, especially not now.

  His lips left hers and she made a small whimper of loss.

  “You make me lose my head,” he said thickly as he held her tightly.

  She forced herself to smile. “Good. I’d hate to think I was the only one affected.”

  “I am not presuming anything, am I, Edwina?”

  “No,” she admitted quietly. “You aren’t presuming anything, Klaus.”

  He kissed her neck just beneath her ear. So fragile, so delicate, so alive! Klaus could feel her pulse beating beneath his lips. His tongue quickly darted out as he licked her tender skin.

  She shuddered.

  Her heart was racing—he could feel that. There was more than excitement in the way her heart beat. “You are afraid,” he stated as he pulled away from her a bit. “You are afraid of me, Edwina?”

  In the small part of her mind free from desire, Edwina was very much aware that he was correct—she was afraid. The desire was not surprising. She had been in love with him, or at least in love with him as she had dreamed of him, for most of her life.

  The two of them, at least in her dreams, had shared an active, varied, and ultimately satisfying sex life. Part of her had wanted desperately to know if kissing him, loving him, would be as good in the flesh as it was in her dreams. The kissing was every bit as she had experienced it in her dreams. She was reasonably certain that the rest of it would be as good.

  The fear was totally unexpected. She didn’t know what to make of it. Yet she couldn’t deny the reality.

  “Klaus, be quiet and kiss me again.” Even she heard the quiet desperation in her voice.

  She didn’t have to ask him twice. This time the kiss was hard, fierce with need, demanding everything, promising the universe. This was the caress of a man who fully intends to take his woman to bed.

  Wildness nearly overwhelmed her. All she wanted was the man in her arms. She wanted him more than she thought she could want anyone or anything.

  Able to resist anything except temptation where this woman was concerned, he allowed his hands to move until they cupped her unbound breasts through the silk of her sweater. He felt her nipples grow even harder under the warmth of his palm. When he gently flicked his thumbs against her nipples through the knit of the cloth, she drew a deep shuddering breath. He wrapped one strong arm around her waist and held her tightly as the other hand continued to tease her breasts.

  He stopped kissing her and looked at her face.

  “Klaus!” she moaned his name as she looked at him. She saw control fighting with wildness on his face. But under it all was tenderness and—dare she believe her eyes—love?

  His eyes searched her face. “Liebling,” he answered quietly as the hand that was on her waist moved lower to cup the firm muscles of her bottom and pull her close against the hard ridge of his penis.

  Her moan of pleasure and the instinctive shimmy of her pelvis against him was enough to strain his control nearly past the breaking point.

  She felt him shudder and knew that he was fighting for the control that meant so much to him. She knew, at least from her dreams, just how wild that loss of control could be. It frightened her and thrilled her at the same time. There was danger with him. She knew deep within her soul that he would never hurt her. Yet as long as he thought she was afraid of him, he’d be very controlled.

  Her pleasure became so intense, she didn’t know if she could bear it. And then suddenly, the tension released in a wave of pleasure. She gasped, stiffened, and arched against him.

  Masculine pride and sexual hunger warred within him for dominance as he held her tightly and let her gentle down from her orgasm. He was surprised, pleasantly so, to find her so responsive to him. Klaus kissed her once more.

  “Edwina, you are extraordinary,” he whispered as his lips moved from her mouth to her ear.

  “What I am is profoundly embarrassed,” she admitted lowly.

  Then he shifted position until he was looking her in the face. He challenged her softly as she stood in his arms. “Look me in the eye after that and tell me that you don’t want me. If you send me away, I will go and never bother you again.”

  She bit her bottom lip nervously as she fought her embarrassment. “I profoundly distrust anything that blooms this quickly. But, please don’t go away, Klaus.”

  “My love for you is eternal.”

  “You are a romantic.”

  “You bring it out in me,” he said as he stroked her face. He loved the way that she reacted to him, turning her head into his hand, as her face reflected the simple pleasure of a touch. He wanted to touch her all over. He wanted to be inside her when she had the next orgasm. He wanted to feel her muscles tighten convulsively about his penis as she reached her orgasm again.

  “I’m not afraid.” Yet, she didn’t know which of the two of them she was trying to convince. She knew that she was lying—something she never did—and she suspected that Klaus knew that as well. She was afraid, terribly afraid. Yet, she didn’t know what frightened her more—her reaction to him, the fact that her dreams about him were coming true, or the pure male magnetism of the man.

  “Well, that makes one of us,” he said softly as he lifted her skirt. “You frighten me, woman.”

  She drew a shuddering breath as his hand closed over the thin silk of her panties. “You’re awfully bold for a frightened man,” she answered.

  His hand left her breast and went beneath her skirt as well. He tugged off her panties, letting them fall to the floor around her ankles. Then he placed his hands on her waist, lifted her off the floor, swung her around and sat her down on the high barstool that sat near the counter.

  “Appearances can be deceptive,” he said as he pocketed her panties. And then he kissed her again deeply, before she could reply.

  “You’ve made your point, Klaus,” she said lowly at the end of that kiss as his hands went beneath her skirt once more. “I’m putty in your hands.”

  “Not putty, b
ut a warm and responsive woman.” His fingers lightly stroked her pubic hair. “So warm…”

  Edwina looked up at him. “Klaus!” she moaned and reached for him.

  “No. Touch me and I’ll lose what little control I have left. Put your hands down and keep them there, or touch your own breasts and add to your pleasure. Just don’t touch me, right now, please. This is for you. Sit back, relax, close your eyes, and enjoy this small amount of love play. Let me give you this pleasure, Edwina.”

  He slipped his middle finger into her vagina even as he lightly alternately rubbed and flicked at her clitoris with his thumb. He gently, rhythmically, fingered her vagina. She was tight, wet, and hot. The tightness surprised him.

  All he could think was how much he wanted to drop his pants and replace his fingers with his penis. She’d be so tight and hot around him—he could barely stand the thought. Any lovers she had ever had would have been some time ago. The suspicion was growing in his mind that she had never had a lover at all. Taking her as he wanted to–hard, fast, and deep–was sure to hurt her. The last thing that he ever wanted to do was to hurt her.

  He concentrated on giving her pleasure. Long experience had taught him all the ways to drive a woman into ecstasy. As her breathing changed and he saw that she was close to release, he varied his rhythm. Klaus smiled as she arched and groaned his name a few short minutes later.

  With a boldness that she didn’t know she could demonstrate, she unfastened his trousers. She closed her hand around his rigid penis through the fabric of his silk boxer shorts.

  He moaned.

  She quickly snatched back her hand as though she were burned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  Klaus looked at her in disbelief. It was clear that she was really upset at the thought that she had hurt him. Between that reaction and the tightness he had discovered, Klaus was forced into the irrefutable conclusion that Edwina was a virgin. The confirmation of his suspicion was sobering.

  She rushed into words before he could speak. He heard the sincerity in her voice, and the misery. “I just thought I might show you some of the pleasure you gave to me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”