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Deciding that the impending conversation called for something more sobering than wine, she took time to prepare a pot of coffee with slices of banana cake to accompany it. While the coffee brewed, Vectra thought about Will Lloyd. Not surprisingly, though, her thoughts kept drifting to Qasim’s parting words.
He loved her? Did he mean that, or was it just a flip tack-on he’d decided to use instead of goodbye? The pot beeped, and she smiled, going to see to the fresh brew.
She’d known Qasim long enough to know that the man didn’t do flip. He’d left the gallery without waiting for her to reciprocate the confession, and she’d wanted to. She’d very much wanted to. But was she supposed to squeeze that in before or after they talked about Will?
The doorbell saved her from having to come up with an answer to that one.
Vectra left off preparing the coffee tray and sprinted toward the front of the house. She pulled open the door to a glowering Qasim.
“Does vineyard living mean you don’t have to ask who’s at the door?”
Taking no offense to the question, Vectra grabbed his jacket sleeve and pulled him inside. “It doesn’t mean that, but sometimes it means you have the luxury of pretty good security.” She pushed the door closed and gave a wave. “Come on in. I just made some coffee.”
He caught the hem of her tee before she got too far. “It’ll keep.”
“We need to talk.”
Qasim crowded her suddenly. Drawing her close, he tipped back her chin to deliberately probe her eyes with his. “I love you, Vectra, I meant that.”
“How—” Her breath caught, yet she fought to speak through it. “How can you be sure? We haven’t been seeing each other that long.”
“We’ve known each other over two years. If you think I enjoyed being your friend because I was in business with your dad, you’re very mistaken.”
“You did stop enjoying it after a while,” she pointed out.
Qasim acknowledged the fact with a smile. “I’ve never been any good at lying to myself. I said it so you’d know where I was coming from. You’re it for me.”
“Sim.” His name was hushed on her lips, and she gave a start over the tears that suddenly blurred her eyes.
He grinned. “Is it that bad?”
Vectra gave a watery laugh. “It’s not bad at all. But I’m no expert at this, and I’m terrified I’ll mess it up. My last serious involvement didn’t turn out so well, you know?”
Temper flared in his deep stare. “You had nothing to do with the way that turned out.”
She smiled. “I had quite a bit to do with it, though. It takes two to make a relationship.”
“Stop.”
“No, Sim, I need you to understand that I played a part.”
Instead of telling her to shut up, Qasim merely lifted her high. His hands provided a firm cradle for her bottom, and he punished her with a branding kiss.
At least, Vectra thought, it was a punishing kiss for even daring to take any part of the blame for the abuse she suffered. He was right. Hell, yes, he was right. She knew that, but it didn’t diminish the fact that she was terrified of repeating mistakes that had led to some pretty nasty situations.
The branding kiss was hot, wet and deep. Vectra met it with her own manner of claiming, using the act to tell Qasim that she wanted all he had to give.
If only the little reminder warning would cease its shrill chiming inside her head. She didn’t want to talk or do anything that didn’t involve the two of them exclusively, but she’d put this off long enough.
“Um—” she tensed, working up just a hint of resistance “—we need to talk.” Her voice wouldn’t shed its moaning intensity.
“Not interested,” he growled. With that, he carried her deeper into the house, taking the previous path he’d charted to her bedroom.
“Coffee...” she weakly offered, feeling his laughter vibrate from his chest through hers. In that moment, she couldn’t resist laughing at herself. After all, she certainly hadn’t dressed for serious conversation, had she?
“Not interested in coffee, either,” he said.
Fevered kisses resumed, stopping only when Qasim broke stride to trap Vectra along one side of the stairway banisters. There, he released his hold on her bottom and moved it once again to the hem of her tee. He quickly jerked the garment over her head and left it on the stairs.
Qasim lost himself in the fullness of her breasts, which had been bare beneath the cotton top. Cupping both caramel globes, he eased his tongue between them and then circled his nose about her nipples until they marbled and strained for his attention.
