At the Cheval Noir... (4.)

"You're lovely, Theresa," the incredibly sexy deep voice. "You know that, don't you?... So fresh and natural, I smell rose, but I think it's not cologne, --- soap, very good soap...  Are you blushing?  I thought that was a lost art."

   I looked down into my lap. "Are you, Alexandre, you certainly look the part... Are you a count or a duke?" I felt stupid asking, but, I really did want to know.

   He laughed, throwing his head back, even wiping his eyes before he answered.  "You're so refreshing!  I mean that in the most complimentary way.  You're wonderful!"   His eyes told me that he was absolutely sincere.

   "Yes, I'm a Duke. My ancestor Rurik was knighted by Ivan The Terrible. I'm Russian, but I was born thirty three years ago in Poland while my family was visiting there. He laughed again. "I'm not that young!"

   "Thirty three isn't old," I said. "I'm twenty seven."

   "You look much younger. If your hair was  up in a ponytail and you were in a t-shirt and jeans you could pass for sixteen."

   I smiled.. "When I WAS a teen... Well, now I take that as a compliment."

   Alexandre grinned. "It was meant to be. I'm an importer, and you?"

   "Well... "   

   Jean-Henri was back with champagne. He popped the cork, showed the bottle's label to Alexandre who nodded. Jean-Henri poured some for him; Alexandre nodded again, the tip of his tongue licking his upper lip. Jean-Henri poured more for Alexandre, poured me a glass, put the bottle in a silver ice bucket and left. He returned soon with the salad.  

   I picked up my napkin. "...I'm a legal secretary.  I was born in Buffalo.  My Great Grandparents came to the United States right before the World War One to set up a jewelry store in Cleveland, on one hundred and twenty fourth street. My Great, Great Grandmother Grand Duchess Cassia Annamaria Elfrida Von Goele-Von Ruhs had a hissy fit when her only child, her precious son Klaus, wanted to marry the beautiful scandalous adventuress Lisel Bauer. She said, 'no-no-no-no-never!,' but he ignored her and did it anyway. On my father's side we're French Huguenots."

   "How interesting," Alexandre purred.   It almost came out, --- "Haow  intaresting-k."

   I was very aware that he ate in European style, not switching his fork to his right hand after cutting his meat. He took a big swallow of champagne, as I did, --- the delicious zippy tartness on my tongue again.  I was enjoying this evening, immensely.  It sure hadn't  turned out  like I thought!  I thought I'd see a great "Carmen" and go home to bed.

"What's your favorite opera?," he asked.

"Oh, "La Boheme," I said. "Mimi and Rudolpho are so poor, It's awful the way they have to live. They don't have anything. All they've got is their love, and it's a great love.  But, she's so sick and, ---and, then, she dies. By the end of it I'm dripping tears, --- but, somehow I feel just great."

   He smiled. "Intense operas are a purge for many of us. 'La Boheme' is a very sad story. Off hand, I can't think of a single opera that ends happily, but we go to them anyway."

   

   "I adore the singing. It stays with me for days. Especially, when I then play a CD of it, over and over. What's your favorite opera, Alexandre?"

   "Mmmm...  In spite of there being wonderful Russian operas, 'Boris Godunov,' and 'Prince Igor,'  my favorite's "Madame Butterfly'."  He sat back in his chair, entirely at ease. "The lovely geisha Butterfly is only fifteen when she meets Lieutenant Pinkerton. He agrees to marry her, although he never intends to. He leaves and she waits and waits and waits for him, so faithfully. Then, when he finally comes back he brings his wife Katie along! And, Butterfly, again, is so sweet to him. She even agrees give up the child he fathered. But, Lieutenant Pinkerton is a callous user, heartless... Butterfly uses her father's knife to commit sepukku."

   "That's the Japanese word for suicide?"

   Yes, most people think it's 'hara-kiri,' but that's wrong."

   "Oh."

   "Yes, hara-kiri is a crude form of killing, but sepukku is a ritual intended as a means of ending one's life with honor..." He sighed. "The whole thing of 'Madame Butterfly,' gets to me. The beautiful music wrings my heart. I'm usually crying by the end of it too." He shrugged his wide shoulders. I could see  the muscles of his chest move under the thin white silk shirt. He looked down at his big hunk of steak, cutting it again.

   I was moved by how upset he seemed to be by the injustice of the story. After a minute, I raised my champagne in a salute to him, smiling. "Most men wouldn't admit they cried."

  "They're silly," he stated, frankly. 

   I smiled. "I'm a beginner at opera, Alexandre. Do ANY of them have happy endings?"

   He raised an eyebrow. "The Marriage Of Figaro," and "The Magic Flute," both by Mozart do. Ummm... Do you like ballet, Theresa?"

  "I've never seen one."

  "What? That's a tragedy! I adore ballet. It's very big in Russia."

   "I know, the Bolshoi."

   "Indeed, 'Bolshoi' means 'supreme'. My brother Nikolai was a Premier Dancer with the Bolshoi."  

  

   "Wow!"

   "Yes... He was very gifted." Alexandre frowned. "So..."  He wiped his mouth, gestured with his fork to my throat and ears, "You like beautiful jewelry."

   That got me to tell him the story of my Great Grandma Lisel and the rope of pink pearls, her nude photo, --- especially, since we kept getting bottles and bottles of the exquisite champagne.  Alexandre kept pouring for me, and himself. I was really starting to feel it. He looked at me with great interest as I told the pink pearl story, his black eyes almost glowing.  When I finished he was quiet for a minute, considering me.

   "What a story, Theresa! Pearls are my favorite gem, even  though men can't today, really wear them.  Back in the time of King Henry the Eighth men wore them magnificently, but not now. The pearl's become a feminine gem. They flatter almost every woman, no matter what her complexion."

   He leaned far back in his chair, and I could tell that the champagne was effecting him too. "I admit I'm especially drawn to you partly because you're wearing such exquisite pearls, because you wear them so well, your simmering blond coloring, your cream-colored satin gown, so like the color of a pearl.  The string of pearls at your throat and your pearl ring with rubies are the only real jewels you have on, am I right?"  His deep voice had become dreamy. (Did I imagine it, that his tone got emphasized when he said, "ON"? Those warm feelings between my legs were making serious flicks now, and I could feel my heart pounding, pounding.)

  I touched my neck and the pearls, feeling the pulse beating there.  My voice trembled slightly as I spoke. "Yes, you're right, Alexandre." (I was pronouncing his name like he did, --- as 'Alex-ondre,' with a long 'a'.) His beautiful European name seemed to hang in the air between us.

   Alexandre fixed me with his penetrating eyes like a child eyeing a hot fudge sundae. It was a weird thing to think; he was a full grown man, but it flashed to my mind as he stared, unblinking, at me. All I wanted to do at the the moment was kiss him, kiss him, KISS HIM on that plush pink curving mouth!!!... And, then I imagined Alexandre as a vampire snacking on me. If he kissed my neck, and then my lips, deeply, passionately, I'd probably faint. Then, he could catch me. He was more than strong enough to hold me, almost forever, carry me unconscious in his arms to... Or, he could flip me over his broad shoulder and walk away with me... 

   Damn, the man could do ANYTHING, ANYTHING to me, --- and I knew I'd LET him! I WANTED HIM! GOD, I WANTED HIM! I wanted his lips, his hands all over me. I wondered what he'd feel like, --- REALLY, REALLY feel like... And, his skin, that smooth looking skin, if, if his body was stretched, trembling against me, that long sexy body, taut and straining, naked in my arms... He was so much bigger than me. I could jump at him; he'd catch my butt. I'd wrap my arms and legs around him, tight, oh, so tight. And, he'd love it; he'd love carrying me like that...

   I WAS wearing Great Grandma's necklace tonight, and her jewelry was lucky, especially since it was the ONLY piece that was real gems!!! I'm a hopeless romantic; I admit it. But, I KNOW that I'll find a great love SOMEDAY. I KNOW IT. And, maybe Alexandre was the one. Sure, I knew he wasn't perfect: nobody is. BUT, still... 

   I put my napkin to my mouth, giggling and giggling, --- the champagne, all that scrumptious champagne! It was a LOT of champagne.  Alexander's thick lashes swept his eyes again; this time when he looked up he swallowed. The Adam's apple in his muscular throat moved up, and then down. I watched fascinated, and I couldn't help wiggling a little on the seat of my chair.  

   

    "Are you alright, Theresa?." he asked. 

   "Yes," I said. "I'm, --- I'm a-alright, Alexandre. Really, I am."

   He looked at me strangely, raised an eyebrow. Then, he shrugged, and smiled, laughed. On top of everything, Alexandre has a delightful free-sounding laugh, as musical as his voice.

   --- Copyright 2021, by Antoinette Beard.