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Elizabeth’s pulse rate increased as she solved the riddle. Logan wasn’t an alien, but he was taking her to see the musical,Wicked.
Elizabeth had little time to consider what the weekend might bring as she and Nancy poured themselves into finalizing plans to begin work on Elizabeth’s dream. When they had discovered that Benjamin was prepared to simply throw away anything in the storage room to prep the area for its new purpose, Elizabeth had been horrified. Her face must have shown her distress because Helen spoke quickly.
“Don’t fret, my dear,” she said, to reassure her. “These things have been hidden so long that we’ve forgotten about them. All the children have already taken whatever they want.” When Elizabeth offered to purchase some of the items, Helen’s first reaction was disbelief that anyone would want the old furniture or knick-knacks. Her second was to tell her she could have whatever she desired. Elizabeth appreciated the gesture but was not one to take advantage of anyone, especially clients as sweet as this couple.
When Nancy saw her friend run her hand over the same old trunk for the hundredth time, she turned to Helen. “Liz loves nothing better than to refurbish old things to bring them back to life. If you don’t let her purchase some of this stuff, I swear she won’t be fit to work with.” Helen shook her head but allowed Elizabeth to make an offer. Helen immediately cut it in half, insisting it was her final negotiation. Elizabeth had laughed, agreed and arranged for the movers to make two deliveries: one to a local donation center and the second to a small storage facility where she and Nancy kept items they’d been collecting for the past several years.
The partners had spent a tiring, but enjoyable, two days going through their storage room, deciding which pieces of furniture needed refurbishing, which looked perfect even in their old state, and what might work best in the rooms Elizabeth had designed. Nancy had convinced her she needed to provide a boutique inside the hotel.
“Imagine the additional income,” Nancy had said, as she showed Elizabeth some of her ideas. “Couples come for a weekend or even longer. Perhaps they have forgotten some vital toy, or even a naughty implement to test out the soundproofing in their room. They find there is a wide variety available right in the hotel.”
Elizabeth nodded and smiled. “I can see that,” she admitted.
“Right,” Nancy said. “Of course, the Dom sees some very sexy lingerie or cuffs or kinky jewelry as he picks out his tool of intimate torture. How is he going to be able to resist buying his sweet sub a special token to remember their visit to Haven?”
“Okay, okay,” Elizabeth had laughed, Nancy’s words easily bringing the scenario to life. “You may have your boutique and store, but…” she warned, shaking her finger, “you alone take responsibility for the design, purchasing and stocking. I’ve got far too much to do as it is.”
Nancy eagerly agreed. “Thanks, Liz,” she said, hugging her partner. “I know this is your dream, but I am so excited for you. I just want to feel I helped.”
Elizabeth suddenly understood something about herself. Though it was her idea, a dream that she had worked on for years, it would mean absolutely nothing unless she shared it with people she loved. “Nance, you’ve always had a part, and I will always need you,” Elizabeth said, tears welling in her eyes. “I would never think of building Haven without you.” Nancy’s eyes filled as well, and the women spent the next few minutes crying and hugging and then giggling.
Elizabeth did make her last point. “Just make sure you never, ever expect me to personally demo any of your wares!”
Nancy laughed. “Never say never, but I promise not to push. Speaking of stock, another visit to Harry’s is definitely on the schedule,” she noted, adding a reminder to the notes on her phone.
Chapter Twenty
Saturday evening, Elizabeth was ready just moments before her doorbell rang. She took a final glance in the mirror. She’d chosen a black halter dress that was snug on top but had a skirt of many layers that flared out over her hips. It felt sexy as it swished around her legs, just above her knees. The bodice of the dress was constructed to support her breasts so well that she didn’t need to wear a bra. The dress was held together with a clasp at the back of her neck, baring her entire back down to the swell of her hips. She wore her hair up, held by the clip Logan had given her. It looked sleek and beautiful, and allowed her neck to be bare. Around her throat she wore a set of her grandmother’s pearls. They were long enough to loop twice and lay just right, drawing the eye to her cleavage in a sexy, but not blatant, way. She wore stockings that she had clipped to a garter belt and a lacy pair of panties. She slipped her feet into black shoes that had red heels as well as red soles. She knew she was going to have aching feet before the night was over but had found the designer shoes at an estate sale at a fraction of their original cost and absolutely loved the way they looked on her feet. The extra few inches they provided was an added benefit as Logan was so much taller than she.
“You look stunning,” Logan said when she unlocked and opened the door.
“Thank you,” she said though she thought he was the one who looked stunning. His tux fit him perfectly—his black hair swept back, his blue eyes capturing hers just before he leaned close to kiss her. At that moment, she could have easily forgone the show just to stay exactly where she was.
Logan smiled at her soft moan of protest when he released her lips. He had a bag in his hand and walked to her kitchen. She tried to compose herself as she watched him take a bottle of champagne from the bag and put it into the refrigerator. She smiled, thinking they would enjoy it together after the show and hopefully do something wicked. He pulled a pint of strawberries from the bag and then a can of something.
She recognized the ingredients and wrinkled her nose. “You really spray that on strawberries?” she asked, thinking that whipped cream in a can was a little out of character for the man in the tux.
“Who said anything about it being for the berries?” he asked, grinning when her face flooded with color as possibilities played out in her head.
“Oh,” she said, one hand coming up to run along the strand of pearls.
He closed the refrigerator and stepped around the small bar. “I’d only change one thing,” he said softly, as he gently took her hand in his and kissed her palm.
Her body begin to react, her nipples hardening underneath the bodice of her dress. She remained silent as he readjusted the pearls until one loop was directly against her throat and the rest of the long length hung down her back. He ran his hand along her spine as he reached for the shawl she had draped over the stool next to her evening bag. She shivered, feeling the shift of the pearls as they touched her skin.
Logan smiled as he draped the red lace of the shawl over her shoulders. “Ready?” he asked, and she could only nod.
He led her downstairs, and her heart almost stopped beating when she saw the long, black limo. She turned to look up at him, to see his smile. Reaching down, his fingertip traced her lips that had dropped open into a perfect “O”.
“I’d pay a million dollars for a photo of you at this moment. The look in your eyes, so soft, so yearning. You’re making me wonder what wicked things you are thinking about, Miss Adams,” he teased.
Elizabeth felt as if she had to physically rip her mind from the memory of the Limo Man. “Isn’t that the exact definition of anticipation… wondering?” she teased right back as he chuckled and opened the car door. Turning, she sat, sliding across the seat to make room for Logan to join her.
“You look beautiful, my dear,” Benjamin said, from where he was seated across from her.
“Thank you, Sir,” Elizabeth said, softly. “Helen, you look fabulous.” It was true. The older woman wore a dress of silver that shimmered and paired perfectly with the sparkling diamonds of the collar around her neck. Like Elizabeth’s, her hair was also piled high, allowing the diamond earrings dangling from her ears to sway freely.
“Thank you, Elizabeth,” Helen said, and then patted the arm of the woman seated next to her. “This is our youngest daughter, Ariel.” Elizabeth could see the family resemblance in the woman. She was quite lovely, her dress a deep forest green sheath that hugged her body, accentuating her curves. She had auburn hair that was pulled up in a way that allowed soft tendrils to fall and frame her face.
