He cradles the back of my head in one hand and presses me closer. “It doesn’t sound stupid. Fear makes us do odd things.”
“The shelter encouraged me to contact my parents. When I did, they came straight down.” My voice grows thick. “They never once judged me. They didn’t rub it in my face. They just…loved me. I got the restraining order, signed the lease on my new apartment, and then my parents took me to Maine for a week.”
Another shudder creeps down my spine, stronger than the last.
“We got a call on the third day that a neighbor had reported a man lurking about. Brett made parole and followed us to Maine. When the police picked him up, they found a gun in his car, along with duct tape and rope.”
Aiden leans back, holding me by my shoulders. His earthy eyes are burning with anger.
“If he ever gets out, I will make sure he never touches a single hair on your head or harms anyone you love.”
I believe him. What a wonderful thing to be able to do, I think with a small smile.
“Thank you. He still has years before he’s up for parole.”
“I don’t care.” He cups my face in his hands. “I will not let him hurt you.”
I stare up at him, at this man I used to think had no heart. But here he is, swearing a lifetime of protection for me, his secretary. He listened to my entire story and is still standing in front of me. No disgust, no turning away.
“After all that,” he murmurs, “do you still want marriage? Kids?”
I nod. “I do. I’ve wanted it for a long time. I’m nervous about dating, whether my past will be a sore point. But I’m not going to let him ruin that for me.”
Although sharing what happened, receiving this kind of support, has left me feeling lighter than I have in years. I’ve talked things through with my counselor several times. My parents, too, although I glossed over some of the details to spare them any further pain. Jessica knows some of what happened, but Aiden is the first person I’ve shared everything with.
“Any man who doesn’t want to date you because of what happened is an idiot.” Aiden’s voice whips out, harsh and guttural. “They wouldn’t deserve you.”
My eyes drop down to his mouth. With the tension gone, my desire is returning tenfold. Suddenly all I can think about is the way his arms wrapped about my waist, how he kissed me, how he responded to my teasing and showed me just how much he wanted me.
“Aiden.”
His eyes darken as his nostrils flare. He leans down. Anticipation builds as my body hums to life, ready to be kissed again the way he kissed me back in New York.
And then he stops. I can see the indecision on his face, the struggle.
Guilt floods me. What am I doing? Tempting my boss when he made it clear he wanted to keep our arrangement in name only? That crossing that boundary would violate his own ethics?
“I’m sorry.” I step out of his arms. “I…sorry. Just a lot of emotions and I—”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“Yes, I do.” I rub a hand over my face. “Let’s forget about it, okay? I’ll grab dessert—”
I’m suddenly spun around and tugged against Aiden’s muscular chest.
“Do you really think I can forget the way you tasted? The way you felt in my arms?” He pulls me against him and I gasp as I feel him again, hard and pressing against me. “And then you look at me like that after sharing…” He shakes his head. “How can I possibly take what you’re offering after that?” Hurt, I try to pull back, but he keeps me in his grip. “I don’t want the first time I take you to be for any reason except that you want me.”
Before I can answer that, he kisses me. Gentle at first, his lips so light on mine. Then, gradually, he deepens it, one hand sliding around to the back of my neck as the other skims up my waist and gently strokes the side of my breast.
I moan. He opens his mouth and inhales my sounds, stokes the fire burning between us with every intimate stroke of his tongue against mine. He tugs my shirt out of my shorts. His fingers skim over my stomach, tug down one cup of the bikini I put on underneath my shirt. When his palm cups my bare breast, I cry out.
Aiden lifts his head. His breathing is ragged, his jaw tight as he stares down at me.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking I don’t want you, Seraphina.”
He pulls the bikini top back into place, pulls my shirt down. Then with one last sexy, angry look, he turns and heads for the bridge. A few moments later I hear the grinding of the anchor being pulled up, followed by the hum of the engine as it kicks on.
I grab my glass of champagne and walk around to the bow. The relief I felt in sharing my story with Aiden, followed by his kissing me like I was his last breath, unlocked something inside me. I didn’t even realize how much guilt and humiliation I’ve continued to carry.
