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I smiled. The subway had been particularly crowded that day. And the A train had been running very late. Neither of us cared at all, though.
“Then you walked me all the way to the door instead of transferring. Do you remember what I asked you?”
I nodded. My skin prickled with the memory. “You said—” I cleared my throat. I had to. My tongue felt too thick for it. “You told me to kiss you.”
He took another step forward, prompting me to back against the mattress edge. “And did you?”
I closed my eyes. In a second, I was there again. Standing outside his hotel near campus while throngs of other travelers funneled in and out of the building. I had thought I would see him again that night. It was our last night before he was going back to London. And so all day there had been an air of desperation about him. About us. As we tracked through the Guggenheim together. Played in Central Park. Acted like tourists at the planetarium.
We couldn’t keep our hands off each other, but that had been something different.
“Kiss me like your life depends on it,” he’d commanded.
And so I’d jumped up, wrapped my arms and legs completely around him while he held me there on the street, crushed my lips to his, and I’d kissed and kissed and kissed him while he spun us around in circles. We had devoured each other right there on Amsterdam Avenue until we were dizzy and out of breath. Until the city, the streets, the noise—all of it disappeared. But him.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I did.”
“You did.”
He was now only a few inches away. Slowly, slowly, he leaned down, slipping a hand around my back to rest on the bed’s headboard. Trapping me with his dark gaze. His clear intent.
“Xavi, stop,” I breathed when his lips were less than an inch from mine. His salty-sweet scent consumed me. Oh, this was hard.
“Christ,” he muttered, his low voice growling over my collar. “I’m not going anywhere, Ces. I thought we established that tonight.”
But that was just it.
I tipped my head, leaning back to look him in the eye. “Did we? You live on the other side of an ocean. And, as you pointed out earlier, this isn’t really the time, is it?”
With a long sigh, he stood up straight and shook his head. “The restaurant is going ahead. I’ll be here for the next few months at least while it opens, and even after…well, London’s only a few hours away, really. My life isn’t the same as it was four years ago. I’m not going to disappear again. Ever.”
I took a deep breath. My heart was pounding so hard I was surprised he couldn’t hear it. His proximity wasn’t helping. Everything about him—even the parts that were cold and harsh—wasn’t helping. I wanted them all.
I slid out from between him and the bed, taking a safer place near the window looking out to the backyard. “All right. You can meet her.”
Xavier jerked. Immediately, the lust clouding his eyes disappeared. They were bright blue again and crystal clear. “When?”
I swallowed thickly, running over a brief timeline in my head. Mattie was in Italy. I had the house to myself. Maybe that was a bit more dangerous, considering it would open me up to more moments like these with Xavier. But it was better than having my family sticking their noses where they weren’t wanted. Not now.
“Later this week. On one condition.”
Xavier tipped his head, looking a lot like a skeptical raven. “What’s that?”
“I don’t want her to know who you are yet.”
Xavier frowned. “Why the fuck not?”
I took a deep breath. I was pressing my luck. A month ago, I’d been convinced I was going to be destroyed in court by this man. Instead, he had reneged on that particular promise and agreed to do things my way for the sake of Sofia.
But this was for her. I had to stick to my guns.
“In case—in case you don’t like her. Or something.”
His black brows nearly smashed together. “What does that mean—‘or something’?”
I sighed. “Do I really have to spell it out to you?”
He stared at me so hard I honestly thought two holes might appear in my forehead. “Are you suggesting I might be a poor father?”
