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She turned and showed him the lace-up back. So many laces. She grinned over her shoulder, though her eyes were too dark, the shadows beneath them too heavy. “A wicked angel.”
Frowning, he stepped forward. Something was wrong. “What’s the matter?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t lie to me. I know you better than that.” He stroked her cheek and his heart turned over as she pressed her face into his palm. “What is it?”
“We’re going to be late.”
“I don’t care.” He took off his coat and set it aside to prove how serious he was. “Talk to me.”
She shook her head so hard he worried she’d dislodge something. “I can’t do it.”
“You can. It’s just me, Vic.”
Then she was in his arms, and hell if he knew how she’d gotten there. But God, it felt good. Right.
So fucking right.
It was only when she eased back that he realized she was crying. “I’m sorry. We don’t have…this.” She waved between them while he shut the door. “You’re not my boyfriend. Not my any—”
He gathered her up and carried her into the living room, then settled her on his lap. “Shh. Stop.”
“Look at you carrying me. All romance hero-y.”
Her sniffle cut off his laugh. “Just call me Swashbuckling Manflesh and be done with it.”
“What is it with you and pirates?”
“After that castrating statement, I am now behooved to say something dickish to get back my romance hero cred. I hereby demand you get on your knees and suck me off.” He nudged her shoulder. “Now, wench.”
She peeked up at him from under tear-starred lashes. “Can I give you an IOU?”
He ran a fingertip down her nose. “I’ll collect.”
“Good.”
She gave a watery laugh and tucked her wet face into his throat. “I’m sorry. I know we should get going, but…I need you tonight.”
He half expected a choking sensation to seize his throat at the mere implication of her needing him for more than sex. Instead, contentment washed over him as surely as her soft body draping over his.
He took a steadying breath and forced the words out. “I need you, too.”
They sat for a long time in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. Holding her like this felt as natural as breathing. He only wondered why he hadn’t made a move on her before, back before they’d had the drama of a fake relationship and too many lies between them.
Oh yeah, because they were complete polar opposites—who somehow found a way to meet in the middle when it mattered most.
“I went to see my mother today,” she finally said.
He remembered Victoria had said she’d seen her mother after she’d left the family, but he didn’t know how often. “She’s nearby?”
“Yes. She’s in Rillings.”
Rillings. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “Okay.” She trembled and he drew her closer, willing some of his warmth to transfer to her. Times like this, he realized how delicate she was.
She lifted her gaze to his. “It’s a group facility for people with mental problems.”
And then she reminded him of her strength. More than he’d ever guessed.
