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She was also stubborn and wasn't about to admit that maybe she was just a little frightened.
When she didn't answer, he took another step toward her. Her rosy lips parted in protest, but no sound came out. He stepped closer to her. He was close enough that she could touch him, close enough that she could smell his earthy scent. Red trembled with desire.
He reached out and lightly caught a lock of her copper curls between his fingers. Gently, as though lifted by the breeze, he brought her hair to his face and brushed it along his cheek, breathing in her scent. She saw a small ripple go through him, as if someone were trailing her fingertips down his spine. He let her hair fall back to her shoulder.
'So, my little woodland nymph, what shall I call you?'
Breathing deeply, she found her voice.
'Everyone calls me Red.'
'Is that because of the fire in your hair or the fire in your spirit?'
Red couldn't help but smile at this.
'Perhaps a little of both,' she said. 'And what about you? Do you have a name?'
'I do,' he replied with a smile.
Taking the basket from her hand, he asked, 'And what do we have here?'
'Supplies for my grandmother. And I must be going or she'll be angry that I'm late!'
'Then by all means, Little Red, off with you before she becomes angry,' he said as he handed her the basket.
With a last glance over her shoulder, Red hurried down the path that led to her grandmother's house. As she entered, out of breath from running, the grandmother began yelling at her.
'What took you so long, lazy girl? Where have you been?'
Red knew that she couldn't tell her about the strange man. The grandmother continued to yell at her.
'I stopped to rest in the woods. I must have dozed off,' Red lied.
Still angry, the old woman grabbed the basket from Red and told her to prepare dinner. As all of this was taking place, two sparkling emerald eyes watched unnoticed from the window.
The following week, Red was again sent to the village. This time, she was told to bring back the grandmother's cheese and wine.
As she came back from the village, she found the stranger standing in the clearing waiting for her.
'Hello Little Red,' he said.
'Hello,' she smiled.
Red had been thinking about this mysterious man all week. She was having dreams that made her wake up panting and drenched in sweat. She was haunted by those deep green eyes. Worst of all, she was haunted by the fear that she may never look into them again.
'And what do you have in your basket today?'
'The supplies my grandmother asked for, as well as her wine and cheese. I must get home. She'll be angry if I'm late again,' she replied.
'Please don't hurry off, Red. Stay. Have a picnic with me,' he purred in his satin voice.
'But,' she stammered.
He silenced her with a kiss. Softly, he brushed his lips against hers. A feather touch that sent flames scorching through her body and pulsing between her legs.
'Stay with me,' he repeated.
Red let him lead her to the middle of the clearing. They sat down in the lush green grass and he pulled the wine and cheese from the basket. She wanted to protest. She knew the awful fit the old woman would throw, but she couldn't bring herself to deny this man anything he wanted.
The stranger popped the cork from the wine and offered the bottle to Red.
'I've never had wine before,' she said sheepishly.
He smiled and slowly brought the bottle to his lips. Taking a deep drink, he closed his eyes, savoring the flavor. Taking another drink, he leaned forward and kissed Red, letting her drink the wine from his lips.
She moaned her pleasure at the feel of his lips on hers and the taste of wine on his tongue. She kissed him back, years of passion she'd kept hidden suddenly welled to the surface.
He broke the kiss and looked deep into her sapphire eyes.