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.“Would you perhaps care for a late lunch or early dinner? There’s a charming place I know of in the Village.From the front it looks like just another storefront, but they have a large patio in back, shaded by trees with a little fountain right in the center.It feels like a bit of Italy transported to New York.And the food is quite good.What do you say?” He waited, barely daring to breathe.If she declined, he would accept it graciously.He would not press.He would not sway her with his witchcraft.“Are we dressed for it?” Anne asked, looking at Paul, who was wearing a black T-shirt and faded blue jeans.“Sure.It’s not a fancy place, not upscale.Just good food.”“That sounds great.” Anne smiled, her left cheek dimpling.Paul resisted his urge to kiss that cheek.He couldn’t help the feeling of hope that stirred inside him.They passed a large crowd near the fountain in the square, small children perched on their fathers’ shoulders straining to see the juggler tossing brightly colored balls in the air.They walked past the bench where he’d first seen her, where he’d first eavesdropped on her funny, sad thoughts.As they walked, Anne asked Paul about his life—what he did for a living, how long he’d been in the States, where he lived—all things she would have asked their first time together had she not been enchanted by his spells to focus solely on their lust.He told her the usual half-truths.While he acknowledged he invested in fine art for several collectors in New York and Europe, he didn’t mention he also invested for himself and had a sizable and very valuable collection of paintings from all over the world.When he admitted to living in the States for the past ten years, he omitted the fact this was far from his first visit.Imagine her surprise if she knew he’d first come to the United States just after the Civil War.“This is lovely,” Anne said as the waiter led them through the dimly lit dining room to the beautiful patio beyond.It was late afternoon—too early for the dinner crowd—and they had the place to themselves.The sunlight dappled through the trees and the splashing fountain and high walls muted the sounds of the city.After they’d scanned the menu, Paul ordered a cheese and fruit platter and a bottle of red wine for them.“And could you please find a vase for the lady’s rose?” he said, nodding toward the flower Anne still held in her hand.They sat across from one another at a small wrought iron table.Anne leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands.As the sun lowered, a glimmer of red-gold shone through the branches, lighting her face like an angel’s.Anne said, “I have to say this one more time and then we can move on.” She took a breath and plunged on, “I’m not the type who usually just falls into bed with a guy I just met.Especially not like this.I don’t know what got into me.You have to believe me.”“Please, don’t waste another moment’s thought on that, Anne.I believe you implicitly.What happened between us was unplanned.I hope you don’t feel compromised by what happened and if you do, I apologize.I have no expectations, I assure you.Though,” he lowered his voice, looking deep into her gray-green eyes, “for me, it was magical.I will cherish our time together all the days of my life, no matter what happens or doesn’t happen going forward.”“Well!” Anne laughed, her cheeks flushed.“You certainly can turn a pretty phrase, Mr.Windsor, I’ll give you that.” Her expression became more serious as she added, “We were rather thoughtless though, in the heat of the moment.I’m not taking any kind of birth control.” She took a breath, her expression worried.Paul felt stricken.“I’m so sorry, Anne.I should have told you.I couldn’t get a woman with child if I wanted to.I’m sterile.” He watched her face until he was certain she accepted this.He could have gotten a woman with child during his first hundred years, but now, though he appeared in a youthful guise, his seed was no longer potent.Anne seemed relieved, though still self-conscious about the sexual intimacy they’d shared.It was clear she didn’t plan on a repeat performance any time soon, at least not without magic, which Paul had promised himself he would not use, not on Anne, not without her knowledge.He couldn’t help think back to that night, Anne lying naked and splendid before him.He had to shift in his chair to hide his erection as he recalled her face twisted in passion as she’d sat astride his hips, impaled on his shaft.How he longed to taste her lush, ripe mouth again, to let his tongue slide down her rounded breasts, teasing the perfect nipples to attention.To taste her musky sweetness and feel her body tremble to his touch before he plunged his manhood into her velvet heat.He leaned toward her, aware his yearning must be apparent on his face.She didn’t pull away as he moved closer.Tentatively he reached out, daring to touch her soft, rounded cheek with his finger, tenderness and lust at war inside of him.Anne’s eyes closed slowly, the smoky lashes grazing her cheeks as she sweetly lifted her face as if for a kiss.The moment was shattered as the waiter reappeared, armed with a huge platter of soft and hard cheeses, fresh summer berries and a crusty warm loaf of bread nestled in a basket covered with a linen napkin
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