The Dancer

7

I sat in my car for a second in front of Nicolae's house. I had been here countless times in the last month, but for some reason it felt foreign now. I got out of my car and made my way up the cobblestone path. As I walked up, Nicolae opened the front door and stepped out to greet me.

I wasn't sure if I should kiss him or hug him or what I was supposed to do. The closer I got, the more I internally panicked.

I had hoped that when I laid eyes on him again something would be different. I hoped he would be less handsome, but seeing him even more casual than the night before was almost more attractive. It was like everything he did was increasingly sexy.

The way his black shirt hinted at his well built, muscular body only added to weakening my defenses.

"Well, I see the house isn't on fire," I teased.

"Very funny, Holland," he returned.

I stopped in front of him and before I could make it awkward he placed his finger under my chin and tilted my lips up to his. In that kiss, I remembered exactly how he made me feel. It was only a light kiss, but I knew I wanted more. Instead of that short, sweet, and tender kiss, I wanted him to lose that composure.

"I've thought about kissing you all day," he murmured.

I knew if I wanted anything more physical with him I was going to have to be crystal clear about it. He wouldn't touch me if I didn't give him the green light. I both loved and hated it; I wanted him to take me by surprise, but in that arena he wouldn't.

I locked with his chocolate eyes for a moment and pushed up on my toes for a deeper kiss. Thank God for ballet.

His hands fell on the small of my back as I stepped back, only wanting to give him a hint that he could kiss me more intensely than what he had.

"So you were thinking about me all day?" I asked.

"How could I not?" He asked with a smirk.

He motioned me inside the house, but his hand never left my back. I set my purse in the same place I always did on the table next to the front door. I was assaulted by something that smelled absolutely amazing. I was a little surprised that the house actually smelled like he was cooking something.

"What are you making?" I asked.

"Steak. Is that okay?" His heavily accented voice fell behind me.

"Of course."

He passed me and I followed him into the kitchen. He finished plating the food and grabbed both plates. My eyes followed him across the kitchen to the two places he set at he table.

"What would you like to drink?" He asked.

"Whatever you're having is fine," I assured.

"Red?" He asked as he held a bottle of wine up.

I nodded in agreement and joined him at the table. He poured my glass and handed it to me before pouring his own.

"How was dance?" He asked as we sat down.

"It was good. Thanks for the referral, by the way."

I took a sip of my wine. Just by the taste I knew it was probably extremely expensive.

"Just so you know, that came far before I asked you on a date."