Page 38 of The Image of You

I had found it the first day I was in Indonesia, waiting for transport. I had spotted it as I wandered through the market, the significance of the nightingale bird hanging from the silver links too perfect to pass up. The tiny sapphire in its chest was the best part—the clear blue reminded me of her eyes. I sent it to her via courier, paying an exorbitant fee to get it to her fast, wanting her to have a reminder of me while I was gone.

She kept clutching it because I had sent it to her, and she was seeking our connection, even when we were apart. I was correct. She needed me as well.

One word came back to me.

Please.

I stood, typing as I left, heading for the terrace at the back of the room. I knew she was watching me.

Tell them you have a headache. Go get some fresh air. Come to me.

I was anxious, waiting on the terrace for her to join me. Time seemed to drag on, but when I checked my watch, I saw it had only been five minutes.

I heard the door open behind me and turned, relief flooding through me at seeing her. She looked around, hesitating. I stepped away from the shadows, and seconds later, she was in my arms. Holding her, I moved behind the decorative shrubs.

“You’re safe.” She pressed her lips to my neck. “Thank God, you’re safe.”

I kissed her head. “I’m fine. I’m right here.”

“Your head?”

“Fully recovered.” I didn’t tell her I removed the stitches myself. I didn’t need a doctor to do that.

“Good. But why are you here tonight?”

“I missed you. I couldn’t wait.”

“I missed you too. So much, Adam.”

I held her close, overwhelmed by the feelings coursing through me.

“I want you alone. I want you at my place.”

She gripped me tighter. “I’d like that.”

“How did you settle into my heart so fast, Ally?” I murmured into her hair.

She tilted her head back, her eyes bright. “You did the same.”

Light caught the heavy silver of the chain around her neck. “You got my gift.”

Her finger caressed the metal. “I love it.”

I ghosted my fingers along hers on the surface of the chain. “I saw you touching it tonight.”

“Yes, because I knew your hand was on it. It made me feel closer to you.”

I inhaled sharply. “I need to kiss you.”

“Yes, please.”

My mouth covered her full lips. She tasted of the red wine I’d watched her sip and cinnamon. She always tasted like cinnamon. I groaned as our tongues slid together, exploring and reacquainting themselves. Her hands clutched my waist, and when she shivered, I opened my jacket, wrapping her inside, never breaking away from her lips. I was like a dying man in the desert, and her mouth was the sweet nectar of lifesaving water. Deeper and deeper, we drowned, lost to the world around us. It was only the click of the door opening that startled us out of our haze. I stepped farther back into the shadows, taking her with me, cradling her face into my chest.

“Shh,” I whispered into her ear.

“Alexandra?” a male voice called out.

She stiffened in my arms, pressing herself closer to my chest, tightening her hands on my waist.