Page 57 of Crimson Love

“Not really. There were men who got handsy with me at times. But nothing more than that.” My gaze drops to the side. “Experience on the other hand...”

His fingers tense on me. “You got on that boat when you were only nineteen. If no one touched you since then...”

My gaze is slow to meet his. “I was a virgin when I got on that boat. Is that what you want to know?”

His heated stare burns into me. His hand slides from my side to my abs and goes straight north where it stops between my breasts directly over my beating heart.

And my heart is strumming so hard I can hear my pulse thrum in my ears.

His tone lowers. “That’s exactly what I wanted to know.”

I pull my lip between my teeth because there’s not much more for me to say.

His big hand splays over my heart and presses in harder. “Because I need to know how careful to be with you. Can I say I fucking hate what you went through, but the fact you came through the way you did is a miracle. And now you’re standing right here in front of me untouched.”

I bite my lip. “Six years. Sometimes it feels like I lived in a time capsule. The world moved on, but not me. I was left behind.”

He shakes his head. “No. You’re here now. And you’re fucking perfect.” He still hasn’t taken his hand off my heart and presses in harder. His touch flirts with my breasts. I force myself to stand still. “Not to be presumptuous, but if this goes where I want it to, I’ll take care of you in that way too.”

“Jett,” I murmur. “Did you forget the part that I’m not breakable? I did take you down the first time we met.”

His gaze narrows, and he slides his hand over my heart to wrap around the back of my neck. “Way to kick a man when he’s down. I was fresh out of surgery.”

“Well, now you know everything. Are you happy?”

“I’ll be happier when we get Andrei behind bars. By this time tomorrow, he’ll be walking right into our hands. You’ll be a free woman in every sense of the word.”

“I hope.”

“There’s no hope about it. Petrov’s freedom is a ticking time bomb. When he blows, we explore this.”

I lean into him. “I want that.”

His dark eyes heat and his words are like a warm embrace. “Good.”

Yes, I want that.

I have six years to make up for.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

SHATTERING

Lennon

“D id you know that penguin poop is basically laughing gas?” Harold sits in a faded recliner holding his iced tea in one hand and the other resting on his belly.

Felicity doesn’t look up from where she’s knitting. “It’s true. We learned it on NatGeo.”

I’m squished in the middle of Felicity and Jett on their floral sofa. This isn’t unlike any other night that I’ve had dinner here other than the addition of Jett and a heart-healthy meal.

Dinner around a table and an evening of wholesome TV. It’s as American as apple pie and chicken fried steak—which we had none of tonight. Still, this is the life of Harold and Felicity Fahnestock, and when you’re invited to their home, you do what they do.

Again ... normalcy. I’ve been in Winslet for a while, but I crave this new weekly ritual like it’s been engrained in me for a lifetime.

I barely remember my mother, and my father sure didn’t eat dinner with me, let alone at the same table. And there was nothing wholesome about what was on our television.

We’re not watching NatGeo tonight. Harold turned on the Smithsonian Channel. We’re watching a show on cruise ships in Antarctica. We already finished one show and are well into the second. The camera panned by a penguin, so of course Harold started talking about their poop.