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“And you dealt with it for two years?”
He shrugged. “I had other things to focus on at the time. And it’s not like everything in New York fits either. I do miss my flat in London. I had everything designed to accommodate. The bath, the counters, the ceilings. Everything is tall enough.” He sighed. “Bliss.”
“Like Julia Child?”
For that, I received a flick on my shoulder.
“Ow!”
“That’s what you get for being cheeky.”
He tipped my chin up and delivered a kiss—also apparently retribution. What started quick, however, morphed into something slower, languid. People said a lot of things about Xavier Parker, but the man knew how to take his time and do a job right.
By the time he was done, though, another thought had entered my mind. One I couldn’t quite shake.
“So, you’ll go back, then?” I asked. “To London.”
“I…well, I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I thought I’d stay here for a bit. If the restaurant does well, it would make a bit of sense to open a few more up and down the East Coast. I could make New York my base of operations.”
“What about your other restaurants? Your estate? Your whole life back there?” Something told me that the history with his father and uncle wasn’t finished.
“I’ve access to a plane, haven’t I? I can run a bloody empire from anywhere.”
Any further protestations were interrupted by another thorough kiss.
“Ces,” he murmured.
“Mmm?”
“Shut up. I’m staying.”
Relief washed through me before I could stop it. Slowly, my lips curved into a smile against his.
“You going to say something?” he mumbled.
“You told me to shut up.”
Now his smile matched my own. “I’m glad you’re finally listening.”
After another brief but equally thorough kiss as the last, Xavier rolled me carefully into the corner of the bed, then reached his arms overhead, took hold of my headboard and gave an almighty stretch before curling up in a motion that made every bricked muscle of his abdomen stand out in high relief. I watched with overt appreciation as he stood, unabashed in his nakedness while he located his clothes.
“Stop staring,” he said without even looking.
“Can’t,” I said. “You take up the whole room.”
There was an audible snort. “Coffee? Or at least tea?”
“English breakfast, of course.” I shoved out of bed and grabbed my robe off the hook on the wall. “Give me five minutes, I’ll bring you a cup.”
I grabbed my phone to send Kate a quick text while I jogged downstairs to make us both some tea and hopefully locate something else in the pantry that wouldn’t completely earn Xavier’s disgust. Before I could even put on the kettle, however, my phone chimed.
“Xavi?” I called absently, walking back up the stairs as I flipped open my messages.
“What d’you need, babe?” He popped out of the bathroom dressed only from the waist down, hair slightly wet.
“Do you take cream or sug—what the hell?”
I couldn’t get out the question before my legs turned to noodles in complete and total shock.
