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“Why’d you knock?” she asked.
“Because my hands are kind of full.” I eased into the room and took the tray over to the table between the two wingbacks, and—
I stumbled over a ripple in the area rug and nearly tumbled to the floor, tray in tow. The stainless steel domes over the plates clattered to the floor, and the steak, salmon, and an array of sides wound up in a mountain of mess on my Turkish rug.
I steadied my stance and looked down at the mess. “Seriously?” I mumbled.
But then, in the midst of my worry, anger, and frustration, a beautiful sound emerged.
Laughter.
Zee was laughing.
And I thought maybe I’d get through this night after all.
7
Zee
I couldn’t help myself. Reid Wolfe, usually so perfectly pressed in his designer clothing, his hair just so, had dropped the tray of food.
In that moment, I loved him even more, if that was possible.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It isn’t funny. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he replied. “And it is funny. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard you laugh like that before.”
“Haven’t I? I guess there hasn’t been much to laugh about since we met.”
He turned to me and met my gaze. “Zee, if that makes you laugh, I’ll gladly drop all the food in the place. In the whole city of New York!”
A smile split my face. This, right here, was why I loved him. I hadn’t meant to fall in love, but he’d taken such amazing care of me since I’d met him in Las Vegas. He was a good man.
Reid Wolfe was not his father.
“I’ll help you clean up,” I said.
“I have people to do that.”
I shook my head. “I want to. Let me. Please.”
“Zee, I don’t even know where the cleaning supplies are.”
I bent down, picked up the plates, and scooped as much of the food onto them as I could. “I can at least help a little.” I got it picked up as best I could without a shop vac or cleaning products.
“That’s good. I’ll just call Lydia.” He walked over to the intercom. “Why don’t you stay in one of the guestrooms tonight? I don’t want you to have to smell steak all night.”
“I don’t mind.”
“You said you weren’t hungry.”
As if in response, my stomach let out a hungry growl. “Seems I am now.”
“Well”—he picked up the bottle of unopened champagne that had made it through the ordeal unscathed—“I don’t dare open this right now, or we’ll have an eruption on our hands. If you’re hungry, we’ll go out, like I originally planned. That will give the staff time to clean the rest of this up.”
“I’m sorry. For the waste.”
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t trip me. I tripped myself.”
“I know. But you had your chef make such a lovely meal—”
“Which you didn’t want.”
“I’m sorry.” I looked down. “I’m just…”
He tipped my chin, bringing my gaze back to his. “Just what?”
“I don’t know. This was all so sudden, and…” I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t tell him how much I loved him. How much he’d come to mean to me in so little time. For the first time since I fell for him, I asked myself the inevitable question. Was this really love? Or was it just me getting taken care of for the first time in my life?
“And…” he prompted me.
“And…nothing. It’s just all a lot to process.”
“I know it is.” He grabbed me by the elbow and planted a kiss on my mouth.
I opened instinctively, and he deepened the kiss.
What his body did to mine. But my heart was involved now. My heart…and my soul. I was so in love with Reid Wolfe—a feeling I never thought I’d know in this lifetime.
Without meaning to, I sighed softly into him, melting into his lips covering mine, his tongue dancing with mine.
A low growl vibrated from his chest into mine, bursting through me like electric sparks.
He broke the kiss then and met my gaze, his own eyes on fire. “I need to make a call.”
“Okay,” I gulped.
His gaze didn’t stray, though, and in another second his lips were on mine again, and this time the kiss was raw and passionate.
My husband. I was kissing my husband.
Reid Wolfe. My husband who I loved more than anything.
My nipples were so hard, and my core throbbing with heat. I was wet. I could feel it already. So wet, and so ready.
Please, make love to me. Please, Reid.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, slid my fingers through his silky hair. As we kissed, I touched his cheeks, his jawline, memorizing the contours of his face. Then I slid my hands over his broad shoulders, his muscular upper arms.
I wanted to touch every inch of him. Memorize it, because this would end sooner rather than later, and I needed to know every part of him before I was forced back into my old life.
