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Aziz looked at her tenderly and smiled. “I wanted your service as a designer because you are good. You are an untapped talent, and it gratifies me to know that you have finally accepted this. But…” He swallowed and tented his brows. “When the renovations were underway, I wanted you to stay because…”

“Aziz—”

“No, Laine, please. I wanted you to stay—I needed you—because I adore you. I love your beauty and your strength. I wanted more time. I could never have enough time with you,” Aziz vowed.

Laine closed the distance between them and touched his shoulder. He gazed up at her as if he were taking in the stars themselves, and she blushed deeply.

“What am I supposed to do? Come back home with you?” Laine asked, squeezing his shoulder gently.

“I could throw you over my shoulder and take you,” Aziz suggested. “But after the bruises I saw on Amin, I wonder if you would go quietly.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t,” Laine teased with a smile.

“Does this mean that you would consider…?” Aziz took her hand and kissed it. “Allowing me to…?”

“I think I’ve allowed you enough.” Laine closed her eyes for a moment. “I have missed you, though. I thought you must have found yourself another live-in fling by now.”

“No one can replace you. I’m utterly taken by you, Laine. I cannot help but beg you to forgive my failures.” He reached for her face, and she came down to sit beside him. “I knew what you were asking of me. I simply struggled to admit I wanted something more than temporary.”

Laine lifted their hands up, their fingers woven together, and looked into his big hazel-green eyes. How she’d missed them and the sound of his voice and the scent of him. How she’d missed his humor.

“I did too,” she murmured. “I never could believe that you wanted more than what you’d already taken.”

“Please believe me, Laine. Please let me show you how dearly I love you. Give me this chance to truly make a fool of myself.” Aziz cupped her face and searched her eyes before pressing an inquiring kiss to her lips.

Laine felt her heart pounding in her chest. She’d changed so much of her life. Could she still fit him into it? Could she refuse what she felt for him, either way? Did she even want to, anymore?

“Let’s be real,” Laine said. “We’re both going to do that.”

Aziz laughed and pulled her close to him. Laine touched Aziz’s cheek. In spite of her doubts, she had to believe him now. For all his odd ways, he’d never been cavalier about the word “love.” She caressed a hand over his thick, luxuriant hair and then met his lips with a gentle, inviting kiss. Aziz’s hand pressed against the small of her back. He returned her kiss vigorously, as if to prove his feelings through their physical connection.

But Laine was convinced. Now, she wanted to convince him. She wanted him to understand that this risk he was taking, admitting his feelings to her, was much wiser than he seemed to believe. She curved her leg against his and scratched her nails lightly down the back of his neck.

“Ah!” Aziz grabbed Laine’s ass and pulled her into his arms. “My tiger!”

“Yes,” Laine gasped, arching her back and wrapping her arms around Aziz’s shoulders. “Yours,” she vowed.

With a grunt, Aziz laid her back on the sofa, kissing her neck as she exposed it for him. Laine rolled her hips forward, eliciting a guttural noise from Aziz. He rubbed his erection against her thigh and squeezed just under the curve of her behind.

“Are you still on the pill?” he whispered.

Laine nodded, cupping his face between both of her hands. She kissed him fiercely, with a heat born of the denial they had suffered from their time apart. Even being this close was not enough. She needed to touch him, to be pressed flesh to flesh, to have him inside her as one body.

“My shirt!” She laughed when Aziz pulled her blouse open effortlessly. He slipped off her bra and rolled his tongue around her sensitive nipple as he squeezed her side. As always, her body was his to worship. Mewling sounds came from her as he teased one breast and then the other, and she began to quiver, her body wanting more of him all the time.

When Aziz pulled away, Laine moaned from the loss of him, but he was only stripping off his pants and soon returned to her with apologetic kisses. He positioned one strong arm underneath her ass, lifting her up until she could hitch a leg over his shoulder. Her head rested against the arm of the couch and she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

“I was so afraid to let myself want this,” Laine admitted.

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