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I take the seat on the longer side of the car, and Gio slides into his usual spot by the door. He runs his hand down his face, adjusts his cuffs and meets my gaze. The air in the car thickens with pent-up, unresolved emotions, but also with primal need.
My body reacts to his presence as if he was the only mate for me on this planet. It’s visceral, overpowering, and completely untimely, but as I catch his chest heaving, I’m unreasonably pleased I’m not the only one feeling it.
His scorching gaze eats me up, communicating without words as we try to reconcile the reaction that swept us both. I swallow hard and count to ten. Then I’ll surrender. My heart. My soul. My body. To a man who might put more conditions in place.
Ten. Nine. Eight.His jaw ticks, the beautiful sharp edge of his chin covered in two days’ worth of stubble I long to kiss.
Seven. Six. Five. He looks away for a moment, adjusting his cuffs again. The chiseled arms bulging in his bespoke suit.
Four. Three. Two. I smile in the bitter-sweet moment before I surrender.
One.
He opens his mouth, but I stop him with my hand.
“I accept.” The words rip through the tense air between us like the sharpest blade.
Gio jerks his head and frowns. “What?”
“I accept your proposal.” The words barely pass the lump lodged in my throat. “I guess I’m saying yes.” I try to chuckle, but it comes out like a desperate squeal.
Gio’s eyes tighten at the edges as he opens and closes his mouth a few times, no words coming out. He licks his upper lip and assesses me with a cold, calculated look.
I push my hands under my thighs, because I’m trembling under his scrutiny. “Please say something.” I think of Annie, Aidan and Ellery upstairs, and decide I’ll beg if I have to.
“Why?” He shakes his head.
“Aidan needs a private school, and our rent just went up, and I…” I blurt and inhale and tell him about all my financial issues. Months of medications I put on my credit cards, jobs I never got paid for, medical bills, Annie’s debt from before I arrived, and all the other fucked-up realities of my life.
Somewhere in the middle of my babbling I realize these issues are not what I should have led with, but he would find out soon enough. He’d believe any other reason was made up to make it all look better. So I don’t stop and give him all the gory details of my life. Problems he can solve easily.
His gaze hardens, his jaw sets in that expression of indifference he carries around like a mask. I can almost pinpoint when I lost him. When he filed my motivation along with all the other gold-diggers. So I don’t tell him more.
I don’t tell him how much I miss him. How he completes me in the most wonderful, unexpected ways. I don’t tell him I regretted walking out on him, and that the woman who walked out was the old Mila who still harbored issues from her previous relationship.
I don’t tell him I missed his tender care. His rare laughter. His unyielding dominance. His refusal to accept normal and then grasp at it with abandon like he did in St. Martin, or even before in Santa Barbara.
I don’t tell him any of it, because I see he’s retreated to his cave of solitude, ruled by contracts and well-defined arrangements where he can protect himself. He wouldn’t hear it or believe it anyway. So I stop talking.
I don’t tell him I’m falling for him. It doesn’t matter, because at this moment I know ours can’t be a happy ending. With my financial needs, I lost him.
Chapter21
Gio
“Okay, Portia, let’s move ahead with the proposal.” I make a note on my phone. “Is there anything else?”
“The Wing project is rolling nicely. If things continue the way they are, we’ll be able to off-load the chain with a nice profit.” She turns her tablet toward me. “I’m not sure you’ve seen the latest projections.”
I glance at the numbers. So, at the end, the retail acquisition worked out. I should be happy. I should call Conrad and rub it in his face. Instead, I think of the Wing as a venture associated with my week in California. With Mila.
Fuck me. I need to get rid of that chain as soon as possible. I don’t want to have good, sappy memories attacking me. It’s not like any of it was real. She played me well.
“It looks good.” I nod.
“Maybe I can move the project to one of my senior directors and focus more on other strategic leads?” Portia fidgets in her chair.
“You don’t need to ask me,” I growl. “It’s your department to manage.” I miss Marnie.
