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"Yeah, you said that already." His breath was a whisper on my cheek.
"You can't just seduce me."
"Who said anything about seducing you? I'm just standing here, willing you to stay. Willing you to be mine. What's your answer?"
Even before I'd gotten on the Tube to come here, even as the past two weeks had droned on with the pain of losing him never numbing, I’d known this moment would come. So I said the only thing that I could.
"Yes."
CHAPTER 51
KAYA
I wokeenveloped in Jasper’s arms, the heat of him surrounding me like a furnace.
I attempted to get out of bed, but he drew me back and leaned into my neck, the scruff of his beard igniting my skin. He growled, “Where are you going?”
His voice was a deep rumble that made my pussy clench. "I'm going to get water.”
“I’ll get it.”
He moved to get up, but I stopped him. “No. I’m already up.”
He rubbed his hips against me. “So am I.”
I laughed. “Oh my God, Jasper Saint!”
His chuckle was low. “What? I am up.”
“You stay, I have to pee anyway.”
“Fine. If you insist. But hurry back, or I’ll come looking for you. And whatever room we end up in, I’m going to get creative.”
“This is supposed to make me hurry back, right?”
“Oh, you dirty girl. If you end up in the kitchen, I will get creative with oil.”
I flushed deep. “Oh my gosh, yes, I hear you. Maybe I will get lost in the kitchen.”
He lifted his brow. “Woman, you’re going to kill me. I mean, I’m willing, more than willing to satisfy. But you are going to kill me.”
“I know. Now can I please get up?”
He grumbled and groaned but finally rolled over, letting the morning air cool my naked skin.
“I’ll be right back. Stop sulking.”
He made an adorable pout, sticking out his bottom lip, and I couldn’t resist leaning in to nip it. “Why are you so damn good-looking?”
He threw an arm over his head. The sheet hung low on his waist, abs on full display, tattoos on his pecs, all tempting me. He grinned. “It’s a curse, I swear."
I shoved at him, and this time climbed out of the bed.
When I was done in the bathroom, I meandered my way down to the kitchen, not bothering with clothes. Saint had started keeping the temperature warmer in the flat after he'd seen me shivering in my sweats one day. I got my glass of water, and as I drank it, I eyed my mother's box dubiously.
As I drank, I lifted it with my left hand, holding it up to the light. The only way into this thing was a saw. But if we did that, the internal mechanism might lock forever. It could not be broken into. Absentmindedly, my fingers played over it as I started to hum the lullaby I'd heard in Croatia and tried to find a way into the puzzle.
I had run my fingers all over this thing. Yelled at it, clutched it with both hands, even Harry Pottered that shit, but nothing worked. Not a damn thing. But as I looked at it in the light, something strange happened. I kept humming, and it almost felt like the box was heating up. I frowned and tried again, using both hands this time, moving this way and that, assessing it, trying to break my way in. When I stopped humming, the boxcooled. When I hummed again, that strange heat was back and it felt like it wasvibrating.
