Insatiable

Chapter Twenty-nine

9:15 A.M. EST, Friday, April 16

15 Union Square West, Penthouse

New York, New York

Meena woke to the smell of frying bacon.

For a few seconds, she thought she was back home in the house in which she’d grown up in New Jersey. That was the last time she could remember waking to the smell of real bacon.

But when Meena opened her eyes, she found herself not in the purple and white bedroom of her youth, surrounded by her childhood Beanie Baby collection, but in Lucien Antonescu’s ultrachic urban penthouse, all soothing tones of gray and brown, with her dog, Jack Bauer, standing on the mattress beside her head, panting anxiously into her face.

“Jack,” Meena said woozily. What had happened last night? “Get down.”

What had happened last night began to return in bits and pieces as Meena lifted the dog and plopped him onto the black tile floor, on which his claws made a hectic skittering sound as he turned and then made a running leap to bound back up onto the bed.

The countess. She had gone to the countess’s apartment with Jon-because he’d made her-and he’d been there…

Lucien, the man from St. George’s Cathedral, the man who’d saved her life. They’d talked and laughed, and afterward, he’d asked if he could join her while she walked Jack Bauer.

And then he’d broken into the Metropolitan Museum of Art. And they’d kissed in front of the portrait of St. Joan. And he’d invited her back to his place. And she’d gone with him.

And then they’d…

They’d…

Oh, God, they’d…

Meena bolted upright in bed, then seized her temples-head rush!-and collapsed back against the pillows.

Had she really made love with Lucien Antonescu all night long?

And was he really-if what she was smelling was any indication-making her breakfast?

A huge smile broke out across Meena’s face. At least until her dog launched himself strategically against her midsection.

“Oof!” Meena said. “Jack! That’s not funny.”

But Jack didn’t seem to be trying to be funny. He was whining and pawing at her-not a pleasant sensation, since Meena was completely naked beneath Lucien’s dark gray sheets-while attempting to shower her face with anxious licks.

Why, out of all the dogs at the New York City ASPCA, had Meena had to bring home the most maladjusted one?

“All right, all right,” she said. “I’m getting up.”

A glance out the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that led to Lucien’s massive terrace showed her that it was a beautiful spring day. The glass seemed to be slightly tinted, but Meena could tell it was already late morning.

And a glance at her cell phone, which she dug out of her bag, sitting at the floor of the bed, confirmed it. She was late to work. Great.

She also, she saw, had seven messages, four of them from Leisha, two from her mother, and one from Jon (probably warning her that their mother had called the apartment looking for her). Meena didn’t really go missing all that often (all right…ever).

But when she did, she did it in a big way.

Meena sat on the edge of the bed and texted I’m fine back to Leisha, whose messages had gotten consecutively more and more frantic as Meena neglected to respond. More than fine. I’ll call you later.

To Jon, all she wrote was, U didn’t tell Mom anything, did u? PS I ‹3 Romania

She wrote nothing back to her mother. She’d have to call her later. Her mother didn’t know how to text.

She wondered what to do about work. What day was it? She couldn’t even remember… Oh, right. Friday. What was happening today? Something about someone reading for something…

“I thought you were up,” a deep voice said from the doorway, startling her. Jumping, Meena turned and saw the most delectable sight she could remember seeing in a long time:

Lucien Antonescu wearing only a pair of gray silk pajama bottoms, holding a crystal champagne flute filled with what appeared to be orange juice.

“Mimosa?” he asked.

Meena would have thought she was still dreaming if Jack Bauer hadn’t chosen that moment to hurl a paw into her kidney.

“Ow,” she said, giving the dog a gentle shove off the bed while holding the gray sheet to her chest. Jack let out a little yelp as he fell onto a tangled pile of Meena’s and Lucien’s clothes. “How thoughtful of you, Lucien. I’d love one.”

Lucien came toward her with a loving-there was no other way to describe it-smile on his face, and Meena was able to observe his half-naked body in the daytime. It was perfect…as perfect as it had seemed the night before, large but without a hint of fat, athletic without seeming muscle-bound, thrillingly masculine. Meena remembered running her fingers down that broad back and circling her arms around that lean waist, trying to hold him more closely. She even recalled-and now the blush grew distinctly deeper-kissing the trail of dark hair along that firm belly.

Her blush deepened.

“Good morning,” he said, leaning down to kiss her as he handed her the champagne.

“Is that bacon I smell?” Meena asked, trying to change the subject…of her own sinful thoughts.

“It is indeed,” he said. “You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

“I should be,” Meena said, sipping the drink he’d brought her. The oranges had been freshly squeezed. “Being an animal lover and all. But I’m just a hypocrite, instead.”

“I like a girl who eats,” he said, running a finger along her cheekbone. “I’m making eggs, too. How do you like yours?”

Meena could not recall any man ever asking her this in her entire life, including her own father.

“Um,” she said, “scrambled?” She smiled up at him, relishing his touch and trying to ignore her dog, who was growling from the opposite side of the bed.

“Then they’ll be ready when you are,” Lucien said. “I thought maybe you’d like a hot bath. I’ve run one for you in there.” He pointed toward a doorway opposite the one through which he’d just entered. Meena noticed for the first time that white curls of steam were wafting from it.

“Oh,” she said, stunned. “You did? That’s so sweet. Really, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“No,” Lucien said. “Really. I did.”

He cupped her face, leaned down, and kissed her deeply. Meena was reminded of how much kissing they’d done the night before. Her lips felt a little bruised by it all. In fact, all of her felt a little bruised. In a good way.

Jack Bauer, from the pile of clothes he’d fallen into, gave a low growl.

“Oh,” Lucien said, breaking the kiss and throwing the dog an inscrutable look. “And I’ve walked your dog.”

Meena raised both eyebrows. This was too good to be true. “You have?”

“Well,” Lucien said, “perhaps I should have said I’ve had him walked. He seemed to want to go out, and the doorman was happy to take him. In any case, you needn’t worry about him. Now go.” He pointed a little imperiously at the bathroom door. “Before you distract me even more than you have already.”

Meena laughed. It was kind of fun to be bossed around by a handsome man in a pair of gray silk pajama bottoms.

Especially one who had done the things to her last night that Lucien had done.

So, gathering the sheet to herself, she popped off the bed and headed into the large, brown marble bathroom, Jack Bauer trotting at her heels. What she saw in the vast mirrors there reassured her. She didn’t look like a total train wreck. She actually looked sort of…good. Maybe because for the first time in a long time she’d had a good night’s sleep? Well, what little sleep she’d gotten had been good.

And for once, Meena had actually woken up happy. She hadn’t even missed her night guard. She didn’t think she’d ground her teeth once during the night.

The huge Jacuzzi tub was half filled with steaming hot water. She wondered what Romanians considered a comfortable bathing temperature and turned on some cold water to even it out, then sank into the deep water when it felt just right.

Bliss. Except for Jack Bauer, nervously sitting beside the tub. She could see the tips of his ears, just over the side, tilted toward her alertly. She tried to ignore him and bathe in peace.

But his anxious, foxlike little face peering up at her when she stepped out and reached for one of the thick fluffy white robes she’d found hanging on the back of the bathroom door made her feel guilty. Where had Jack Bauer spent the night? Had she really locked him into this bathroom? At least the bath mat was as thick and fluffy as the robes and had probably served as a comfy bed.

That was it, though. She’d been a horrible pet owner. She was going to have to give him a good, long walk to make up for her bad behavior…

She slipped into the robe-it was so big on her, she had to roll up the sleeves to keep her hands from being lost inside them-then rinsed with some mouthwash she found. She had some makeup in her purse. She put some on, but her cheeks and mouth were so red from the chafing they’d endured at the assault of Lucien’s lips that she needed only a little mascara and eyeliner.

She discovered her dress slung over a black leather ottoman and her underthings strewn across the floor. She pulled them on, thinking about how later, after work, she’d have to do the walk of shame in front of her doorman. Would whoever was on duty realize she was wearing the same clothes she’d left in the night before? She prayed Pradip wouldn’t be there when she got home. Not that she cared what her doormen thought of her.

But what if she ran into Mary Lou in the elevator? Not what if. She would run into Mary Lou in the elevator.

But maybe, given what had happened last night, her luck was finally starting to change.

She refused to think about whether or not Lucien was going to ask her out for tonight. Friday night. She wouldn’t mention it, either. No game playing. They were both too old for that. He was in town on business. She wasn’t going to seem needy…

“Are you free tonight?” Lucien called from the kitchen, where the smell of bacon, now joined by coffee, was stronger than ever.

She called, “Uh, I think so,” and followed the sound of his voice. Lucien had set the glass and steel dining-room table with one place. One dark gray cloth napkin, one set of silverware, one cup of coffee, one glass of orange juice, one everything.

Lucien, noticing her curious gaze from the other side of the pass-through, said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I had mine earlier. I went for a run and I was famished after. I didn’t want to wake you…you were sleeping so sweetly. Like an angel.” He winked at her.

Meena said, “Oh, no. That’s fine.”

That’s just weird, she thought.

She slipped onto the chair behind the table setting just as he came out of the kitchen holding a plate. He presented it to her with a flourish. On it sat three curls of perfectly cooked bacon, two eggs scrambled to a golden yellow, a slice of delicately toasted whole wheat toast with apricot jam, a few paper-thin slices of orange, and a plump, perfectly ripe strawberry.

Meena stared down at it with her mouth hanging open.

Lucien pulled out the chair beside hers. “I wasn’t sure how you take your coffee. There’s sugar and cream on the table.”

“Thanks,” Meena murmured when the ability of speech finally returned.

He’s a prince, she told herself. This isn’t so unusual. All princes probably do this to impress their girlfriends the first time they spend the night.

Maybe, she thought, lifting her fork and idly admiring how his biceps looked in the daytime, the thing about his going running already isn’t so weird either. He has to work out to stay looking so nice. I should start working out, too. We could work out together. Before he goes back to Romania, I mean.

“I thought tonight we could go to the symphony,” he said. “If you’re free. I have tickets for the Philharmonic. Masur is conducting Beethoven. I don’t think you’ll hate it too much.”

Meena looked at him primly over a forkful of eggs. “I won’t hate it at all. I happen to like Beethoven.” She wondered how long it would take for him to catch on that she had no idea who Masur was. She supposed she could use the time during the concert to think up some good dialogue for the new vampire-hunter proposal she was going to pitch to Sy.

“Excellent,” he said. “Unfortunately I have an early dinner engagement with a colleague. Shall I meet you by the fountain at Lincoln Center at seven thirty?”

“I’ll be there,” Meena said. “And without him.” She shot Jack Bauer a meaningful look since he was sitting beneath the table, alternately growling at Lucien and looking up at her beseechingly for any crumbs of food she might spill.

“He’s a very loyal companion,” Lucien observed mildly.

“Yeah,” Meena said, taking a sip of coffee. “Something like that. How long do symphonies usually last?”

“If you’re asking because you want to know how long it will be before I once again rend off all your clothing and perform the kind of indecent sexual acts upon your body that I performed last night and that would horrify your mother were she ever to find out, we could do that right now,” Lucien offered.

Meena, who’d been staring at him with cheeks growing ever more deeply crimson as he went on, said, as she pushed herself away from the table, “I can’t. I mean, I-I’d like to. But I’m already late for work. So I…I better go. I’ll see you at seven thirty.”

Lucien laughed and, rising from the table as well, caught her up in his arms. “Did I mention how much I enjoy seeing you blush?”

“Well, that’s good,” Meena said to the center of his chest, since she couldn’t seem to raise her gaze any higher than that. “Since it’s all I seem to be able to do around you. See you tonight?”

“Don’t forget your coat.”

He got it for her from the closet, helped her into it, then walked her to the elevator-it was the kind that came straight up into the apartment. When it arrived, he caught her up around the waist again and pulled her against him, then kissed her deeply, not seeming to mind that she must have tasted of toast and coffee.

“Seven thirty,” he said when he released her. “Don’t be late.”

He smiled as she wandered onto the elevator like a woman in a daze. Jack Bauer, however, strutted stiff-legged onto it, clearly delighted at seeing what he thought to be the last of Lucien Antonescu. The dog turned and gave him a parting warning yip.

“And the same to you, my friend,” Lucien said just as the doors shut.

Meena, alone in the elevator, watched as the numbers above her sank lower and lower. With each one, she felt, sanity returned. When the doors finally opened to the lobby and she and Jack Bauer stepped out of the luxury building’s entrance and into the sunshine of the bright spring day, reality finally sank in.

And with it, the full impact of what she had just done.