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I do as he says and once we’re comfortable, I reach forward and turn the taps on to refill the tub with some hot water. After we’re suitably warm again, I sink back into his arms and he rests his lips against my temple.
“Isn’t this nice?” he says, and I decide it’s the way he’s being silly—it’s making me afraid. I’m terrified he won’t ever be able to truly open up to me. He’s not a serious person. I always knew that. I like his playfulness and I love the performer, but sometimes…
We haven’t talked enough about his father, nor his mother.
Hell, I’d like to talk about my own family as well, eventually.
“We’re opposite, you and I,” I breathe.
“I know that.” He threads and unthreads his fingers through mine.
“I love how fun you are, but right now, I don’t want fun.”
“Hmm.” He leans his chin on my shoulder. “What do you want?”
“I want to know how badly you want me, how viciously you’ve wanted to clear the path to get to me… all that sort of stuff.”
He rubs his nose in my damp hair. “I told you I love you and that one day you’ll be my wife. All in the same day. Give me a break, sweetheart.”
I laugh it off. He’s right. I’m being imbecilic, not living in the moment. That’s always been my problem.
He squeezes me inside his arms and groans, “If it’s any consolation, for the past six months, every time I’ve come it’s been to thoughts of you.”
“God. Really?”
“Yep.”
“How come?” I ask, giggling.
“Remember that concert in Copenhagen?”
“Hmm.” How could I forget? He had dozens of women throwing themselves at him at that one. “I saw you with one of the security, flirting backstage, and this furious pang of jealousy threatened to rip a hole right through me. You didn’t see me observing, thank fuck.”
“Shit.” I still remember that security bloke. Six-five and beefy. I had been sorely tempted actually. The guy was gorgeous and clearly huge.
“I’d felt it but not admitted it before then. I wanted to smash the bloke’s face in and then some.”
“Golly.”
He squeezes both hands around my breasts and pecks my cheek. “We’ve got a rapport, baby. Haven’t we?”
“I think so.” I can’t deny we’ve always got along, even with all the drama.
“And you’ve looked after me. It might not always have seemed like it, but I am much better than I ever was before. Because of you. I don’t think I’ve ever looked at another woman the way I look at you.”
I shift in his arms to stare up at him. “Then we have that in common.”
“What?” His brows bunch.
“Neither of us has loved anyone else before.”
At that, he appears genuinely touched and leans down to kiss me softly.
Though, eventually, he groans at the seriousness and pulls away with a dark look in his eyes. “What have you done to me, woman?”
“Not as much as I’d like to have done already, but there’s plenty of time yet.”
He raises one eyebrow and licks his bottom lip. “Now, that’s more like it.”
