Part 69 (1/2)

By the G.o.ds, I really could take no more.

”You do know you're demonstrating my earlier point, being handsome, having a magnificent physique, being thoughtful, kind, patient, intuitive and wise, all this meaning you're rather perfect, do you not?” I noted.

Noc continued his acute study of me before his expression cleared and his lips tipped up.

”You wanna think I'm perfect, sugarlips, be my guest. My point was never about arguing yours.”

This was true.

But I was done.

”Can we go to sleep?” I requested.

”Are you tired?” he asked.

I actually was.

Exhausted.

It seemed coming to terms with your wonderfulness took a good deal out of you.

I nodded.

His voice quieted. ”Then yeah, gorgeous, you want, we can go to sleep.”

”Are you tired?” I queried.

”Not so much.”

”Then-”

”You're down with it, I'll turn on the TV. I watch, you sleep. You can't get to sleep with the TV on, I'll turn it off and read. Cool?”

I nodded.

Noc dipped in for a lip brush but when he was done, he pulled only slightly away.

”That was heavy, you okay?” he asked gently.

I nodded, though in truth I wasn't.

But I suspected I would be.

”Gonna be a hard promise to keep, the promise you made me, but want you to keep it, Frannie.”

I drew in a deep breath and let it go.

”I'll keep it, Noc,” I promised again.

His face again a.s.sumed a version of the sated contentment he'd had before. It did not run as deep but it was still there.

He was pleased.

Which made me pleased.

He dipped in for something much deeper than a lip brush before he rolled off me and rearranged us, the covers, and turned off the lights, but he turned on the television that was resting on a cabinet at the other side of the room beyond the end of the bed.

He lay with head and shoulders propped on pillows, holding me tucked close to his side, my cheek to his ribs.

I held him around the stomach and stared at the perfect hair on his chest, feeling his finger again drawing languid patterns, this time on the skin just below the small of my back.

Healthy skin, where I could feel his caress and what he wished it to communicate to me.

And I felt his caress.

But more, I felt what he wished it to communicate.

I was there, really there, with him, where he wanted me to be, where he liked me to be, a good, safe, healthy place. And he wanted me right there, and a man like Noc would not chose a woman to be right there if she did not deserve to be.

The sound of the television strangely did not distract me from falling asleep.

Strangely, it and Noc's warmth, his nearness, his touch, his simply being and being with me lulled me to sleep.

And when I slept, I slept deep, snuggled up to sheer perfection.

Chapter Eighteen.

Fallen for Me Franka I sat alone at a table in one of Valentine's sitting rooms, looking into my crystal ball that sat atop its lovely pillow of sapphire-blue velvet.

I was trying to concentrate, but although I'd been in it now for a full five days, I didn't know this world enough to understand the visions I was calling up.

Not to mention, I had on my mind the fact that the three homes Valentine's agent had shown us the day before were not to my, Josette's, or even Noc's liking, something, in our depth of discussion of each we'd had over dinner the evening before, had become clear.

We had another ”showing” that day and my mind was also on that, as I was finding more with each pa.s.sing day the need to settle, not only myself but Josette.

Valentine had no opinion on the houses we'd seen since she was not there to view them with us.

In fact, I had not seen her since she introduced Josette and me to the wonders of the curling iron. Our only communication was through texts, notes she left and messages delivered to us by her secretary or the man who was her caretaker.

This irked me, greatly, and the longer it lasted the more irksome it became.

Yes, one could say that our time had been full since our arrival so our need of Valentine's presence was not great. There was much to do, see and experience, and Noc was being lovely with offering us all of that.

This included his promise of taking Josette and me to Bourbon Street the evening before last, a place I knew was where I'd been spirited to upon entering this world due to the familiarity of its noise, but mostly its smell.

”Spilled booze, puke and bodies, baby, all baked in the sun,” Noc had explained the smell. ”In other words, the aroma of a really f.u.c.kin' good time.”