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"Isn't Zurich gorgeous this time of year!" she whispers breathlessly, moving closer to me.
"I think the whole world is gorgeous around Christmastime, even in countries that don’t believe in Jesus," I reply, wrapping my arms around her. "But not nearly as breathtaking as you."
Tony laughs softly and leans her head on my shoulder, and we stand there together, sharing a quiet moment of connection. The sounds of the bustling city below fade into the background, replaced by the rhythmic beating of my heart in my ear.
At this moment, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the woman in my arms and the promise of a tomorrow that currently feels so far away.
"Shall we head home?" Tony asks after a while, looking up at me with a contented smile.
“I’ll get the car.”
It takes the driver less than ten minutes to respond, but here he is now. The car door closes with a satisfying thud, sealing us in our private cocoon of luxury. The hum of the engine is barely audible as we glide smoothly through Zurich's streets.
I glance at Tony, her eyes wide with wonder as she takes in the city lights that stretch out before us like a river of stars, and wonder if she feels any fear at all. If word gets out that she is helping me, my father will probably want her dead even more than me. There will be no protecting her. Does she know the danger she is rushing toward? The man she is rushing to antagonize killed her father. How do I stop her?
We fall into a comfortable silence, lost in our own thoughts as our chauffeur expertly navigates the bustling streets. The world outside our window becomes a blur of colors and shapes, an ever-changing canvas of light and shadow, but I don’t notice it. I am trapped in the ninth circle of Hell.
"Thank you for making this night so special, Liam," Tony’s voice cuts through my waking nightmare, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I will never forget it."
"Neither will I, Tony," I respond, my heart beating erratically. The truth is, I can’t keep her here against her will. She has a life of her own, complete with her own aspirations. She is going back to school in a fortnight or so. I can’t lock her up in a bubble.We just have to figure this whole mess out.
In a voice that sounds like distant drums to me, I say, "You deserve all the happiness in the world, and I promise to spend the rest of my life trying to give it to you."
As we pull up to the front of the house, I am glad to see the party—organizing company I hired this afternoon was able to bring my vision to life. Back at the restaurant, I had managed to sneak Anja a text telling her to wait ten minutes, then light the candles and hang the flowers as we waited for the driver to arrive.
We approach now, and I am filled with a sense of wonder as I take in the magical scene before us. The pathway leading to the door is lined with softly glowing candles and fairy lights, casting an ethereal glow on the surrounding area. The soft melodies of Tony's favorite songs drift through the air, pulling us towards the entrance.
"Wow, Liam," Tony murmurs, her eyes wide with amazement. "You really went all out."
"For you, my love," I reply, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as we approach the door. “I keep thinking, if I do enough . . . if I reach a certain threshold, you will not go back to Miami . . . you will stay.”
“Ohhh,baby.” She responds, and I catch a glint of an escaping tear in the candlelight. “That would make us both very happy, but it would be short-lived or create a whole new set of other problems. Zurich is beautiful, honey, but it is not home. We can’t hide out here forever. You can’t go, my love, so I must.”
“I hate that you are right,” I say sullenly.
We walk hand in hand, following the trail of scented candles as they guide us through the enchanting atmosphere. As soon as we step inside, the aroma of Tony's favorite flowers fills the air, making her smile even brighter.
"Welcome home," I say with a warm smile, closing the door behind us.
We begin to undress each other slowly, sensuously, the minute we enter the bedroom, taking our time to appreciate and admire each other's forms. As I slip my fingers beneath the strap of her dress, Tony reaches for my shirt, deftly unbuttoning it and sliding it off my shoulders. With each item of clothing that falls to the floor, our connection deepens, the vulnerability between us giving way to an all-consuming desire.
"Your touch sets my soul on fire," I confess in a raw voice that leaves nothing to the imagination as to which brain is controlling me now as my hands roam over the curvature of her hips, the suppleness of her derriere, and the smoothness of her thighs.
"This afternoon, you gave me the time of my life, my darling," Tony says with orbs of fire shooting out of her eyes, her gaze locked firmly onto mine. "It is my turn now."
“All I’ve ever wanted is to please you and to take care of you. I’m not keeping score.”
“But I am. I can’t be just a taker and not a giver. That is not a balanced relationship. Let me give you a taste of your own medicine.”
“I’ve never known that saying to have a positive connotation, my baby . . . show me.”
And she does. Her lips latch on mine, and the world around us seems to fade into the background, lost in the intense connection bubbling between us. Time has lost all meaning, and we are lost in each other's embrace, lost in the intoxicating world of passion and raw desire.
Our mouths are now fused together, locked in an intimate dance of exploration and sweet surrender. Tony's tongue delves into the recesses of my mouth—areas I didn’t even know I had nerve endings in.
Just as I’m beginning to think I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen, Tony draws back from our passionate kiss and starts her descent down, trailing feather-light kisses down my neck—each one leaving a smoldering imprint everywhere she goes.
Her heated breath fans over the wet trail she's carved out with her lips before she continues downwards, her nimble fingers trailblazing a journey across the planes of my chest as they ignite a fiery path on every patch of bare skin she touches.
