“Oh! Look at you both!” She’s about five feet tall and reed thin, wearing a floral dress that flows around her nymph like figure. She’s older, with silver hair threaded through with strands of stark white.
She had her bio on the website. Grace Genesis. Owner and operator. I don’t know if that’s her real name, but it’s kickass, just like her. Like the photos of the house, her picture didn’t do her justice. She’s lovely, and her enthusiasm at seeing us makes me immediately feel at home.
“Come on in! I have everything ready for you both!”
We step inside. I shut the heavy wood door after me. Wizard’s inhale at the grandeur of the house flows down his shoulder, down his arm, and into our joined hands. I squeeze his back, because… yeah.
It’s incredible.
All the furniture is period correct. Gold framed paintings adorn the wallpapered walls. Gleaming hardwood floors, oak carved bannisters, woven carpets, and crystal chandeliers gleam back at us.
“I’m Grace,” she says, stopping a few feet away. “Sorry, I get so excited I forget all about introductions.”
“Neal,” Wizard says, surprising me. “And this is Esme.”
I’m relieved that the next sentence out of Grace’s mouth isn’t about newlyweds, or questions about our wedding. I feel a little out of place in all this grandeur, dressed in a leather jacket and jeans, but Wizard is as gorgeous as ever. He doesn’t need a suit or anything fancy to be absolutely stunning.
“I’m so pleased to meet you both. There are a few other guests staying tonight, but I try to make dinners as private for everyone as possible, unless you’d like to dine together. I can have your food brought up to your room, once you decide what you’re having, or you could eat outside, or down in the main dining room. It’s completely your choice.”
“Oh. Just… whatever works best for you,” I mumble, because I’m used to making myself small and doing anything to accommodate other people. I stop myself and glance at Wizard. “Or what would you like? In our room, maybe?”
I have visions of feeding him, laughing over it, him sucking on my fingers and stopping my laughter dead in my throat, stripping his clothes away and forgetting all about dinner.
“I think that would be perfect.”
“Excellent.” Grace guides us to the main staircase.
I expected something so much smaller, but this is a grand entrance, movie style. The kind of stairs that a woman walks down dressed in a ballgown at the man at the bottom loses his mind.
We follow her up the curved stairs to a huge landing, but she walks through the hall, past closed doors and large windows bordered by heavy velvet drapes, until we reach another staircase. This one is more the narrow, twisting, fairytale Victorian gothic style that I expected. There aren’t many windows, but it’s well lit by wall sconces, which adds to the gothic aura. Grace stops in front of a door at the head of the stairs. She produces an actual skeleton key on a chain from the pocket of her dress and fits it into the lock. She steps into the room so that we have room to get past her.
It’s glorious. What I didn’t realize from the photos was that this suite takes up the whole third floor of the house. The ceilings jut down at wild angles, but the windows are fabulous, starting right from the gleaming floorboards. The room is opulent, like the rest of the house, but with a massive claw foot bathtub in the middle of the room, and a huge four post bed on the other side, it has a different sort of charm. Older than old world.
Grace shows us the wine fridge, hidden inside a gorgeous wooden wardrobe. The champagne is probably inthere. “I’ll be right up with your menus and a platter of fruit. Other than that, you have the place completely to yourselves. You can let me know if you need anything at all. I’m always around. Usually downstairs, or outside. The rose petals are from our own gardens, and we make all our soap here too.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, still clutching Wizard’s hand.
Grace passes me the key. The metal is warm when it lands in my palm. She shuts the door behind her, and we’re alone.
Wizard frames my face before I can even think about getting my backpack off. He kisses me, lingering, taking his time, luxuriating in me.
“Stop,” I groan, pulling back. “We need to at least get the menus from her before you make me completely feral.” I poke him in the middle of his chest. “She said she was coming back with strawberries. Let’s at least have something to eat before we forget about dinner entirely.”
He grins, then bends to kiss me again. He drags his tongue across my bottom lip, hot and wicked. “Mm,” he says, but that’s all. I don’t know if it’s agreement, or just satisfaction at undoing me so thoroughly already.
I shrug out of my backpack and Wizard drops his down right where we’re standing, a few feet from the door.
He walks over to the bed. I try not to follow. If I go over there, I’m going to wrangle him down onto it and start removing clothes.
“It’s scattered with rose petals,” he tells me, his tone thick and sensual.
I find a cup of rose petals on the brass stand by the tub, complete with a bar of soap wrapped in brown paper and tied with jute twine, and two bottles of shampoo and conditioner.
“This is incredible.” He spreads his arms out into the air and flops down onto the bed, face first. “Yup.” His hands bunch in the thick coverlet. “Amazing. You should probably come join me.”
I make a noise that’s half whine, half protest, deep in my throat. It takes all my control not to race across the room and leap onto the bed. I wait by the door, tapping my foot, clenching my hands, sweating under my leather jacket. I try not to squirm or press my thighs together, but I’m sure I’m half wrecked by the time Grace knocks lightly on the door.
She didn’t just come with beautiful menus. She has a platter of pastries and fruit. The chocolate dipped strawberries at the center, and the rest is artfully arranged pineapple, mango slices, star fruit, kiwis, and melons. The pastries are fluffy and golden, topped with powdered sugar, and drizzled with stripes of chocolate.
