Prima - Alta Hensley Page 0,48
popping as if electricity had been set free to zing about my body. It was a damn good thing his arms were around me because the moment he thrust his tongue into my mouth at the same time he pushed his body against mine letting me feel exactly how he felt, every bone in my body liquified.
“Clara, what’s taking so long?”
Nothing quite had a grown woman feeling like a teenage girl on her first date than a grandmother’s voice. Pushing against his chest, I broke away from the kiss.
“We’re coming, Baba,” I called before looking up at Alek. “We need… um…”
“Wine,” he offered when I couldn’t seem to think of what it was we needed.
Reaching above me again, this time to open the cabinet, he pulled down three glasses. Realizing I’d never even let go of the flowers he’d brought. I took the opportunity to duck beneath his lifted arm and moved across the room to grab a vase off the top of the refrigerator. I set it into the sink and turned on the faucet, allowing it to fill as I unwrapped the green floral paper from around the blossoms. Alek had given me beautiful roses after the performance the other night, but I found this bouquet of wildflowers just as beautiful. I snipped a bit off each stem to improve their ability to take a drink of water as he opened the wine and poured it into the glasses.
I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d felt so comfortable with a man… maybe because I never really had. I’d not dated much as a teenager, too busy trying to make it into the best dance schools. I’d been escorted to premieres and after parties by various men but none had truly meant anything to me. And, of course, there had been Nikolai, but I now understood every moment I’d allowed that man to be in my life had been a mistake.
“Where’d you go?”
“What?”
“You cut any more off that flower, and it won’t be worth a damn,” Alek said, “and I think the vase has been filled a few times over,” he added, reaching over to shut off the tap.
“Oh,” I said, feeling my face heat as I set down the scissors and looked at the poor daisy in my hand. “I was just thinking about how nice it is to see my babushka smile. You did that.”
“I’m pretty sure you make her smile quite often,” he said, taking the vase out of the sink, and, after dumping out half the water, set it on the counter before me so I could start arranging the flowers I hadn’t massacred. “And your babushka reminds me of my mother. It’s nice to hear the mother tongue again.”
I smiled, not denying that hearing my grandmother address me as dorogoy, which meant “my dear child” always made me feel special… loved.
“You’re good with her,” I said, placing a zinnia in the vase. “I really am sorry about your mother. I would have loved to meet her.”
“And she would have loved to meet you,” Alek said softly. “Treasure every moment you have with your grandmother, Clara. You never know how long you’ll have with her. Cancer took my mother away when she was way too young, but she knew she was very much loved by both her sons.”
I noticed he hadn’t mentioned his father, but didn’t say anything. Instead, I nodded. “I will.” Placing the last piece of baby’s breath into the vase, I said, “Speaking of which, we’d better get back in there before she manages to get herself out of her chair again.”
He smiled, bent down, and chastely kissed my cheek before picking up the wine glasses. “After you,” he said, gesturing with the solo one held in his left hand. “I love watching you coming, but I also really enjoy watching you going.”
Instant heat flooded my face as I considered how that could be taken in so many ways. “You’re incorrigible,” I said with a smile, picking up the vase and turning to walk from the kitchen, never as aware of every move of my body as I was now, knowing his eyes were on me.
My goal had been to allow my more feminine side to show tonight, wanting Alek to see that part of me. Since most of my days were spent in leotards, baggy sweatshirts and a ponytail, I’d actually allowed my hair to flow past my shoulders and chosen a dress that clung to what few curves I