Текст книги "King of Hearts"

Автор книги: L. H. Cosway

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Текущая страница: 18 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

My lips grew dry, still not knowing what to say. “Well, I’m just glad you enjoyed the concert.”

“I did. Thank you for taking me there. I know it took a lot of courage.”

He held my foot in his hand, fingers deliciously warm on my skin. I stared, transfixed, as he began to feel his way up my shin. My lips grew drier. In fact, I was dying of thirst right then, and it wasn’t for water. King’s mouth hung open a little as he admired my bare legs, his eyes wandering as far as my thighs before they came to my face. We communicated silently, and seconds later he was pulling me to him, water splashing as he caught me. His hands gripped either side of my neck, and he lowered his mouth to mine.

The kiss was soft at first, maybe even a little hesitant, but then his tongue slid ever so slightly against my own, and I moaned deep in my throat. The sound caused King to let out a quiet grunt as his fingers dug into my skin and the kiss deepened. Every fibre of my being came alive as our tongues tangled, our lips biting, nibbling, seeking, and I felt the spot between my thighs grow wet and needful.

I might have come from the kiss alone, it was that intense. We kissed like our lives depended on it, like we were dying of thirst in the desert, and I would have been embarrassed by my obvious need if he hadn’t matched it with his own. Long minutes passed, but his fingers never wandered from my neck and mine never left the front of his shirt, the material bunched in my fists. The fact that we were barely touching made it so much more feverish. It was only when I moaned a second time, much louder than before, and King gave a deep, masculine growl, that I knew I had to break the kiss. If we didn’t end this, he was going to be inside me soon, and I knew I wouldn’t have the willpower to stop him.

My chest was heaving as I broke away, seeing stars, all of them gold like his hair. We locked gazes, and it was at that very moment that I blurted out, “There’s someone I need you to meet.”

Twenty-One

King didn’t want to stay in his apartment that night, and no matter how much I tried to convince him to give it a try, he was determined to return to the circus. He wanted what was familiar, and his old apartment was foreign to him now.

We shared a cab, and I made him promise to meet me the following day at two, because I wanted to go see the show and introduce him to a friend. What he didn’t know was that the friend wasn’t a friend, but our son. I’d decided that there wasn’t ever going to be a perfect time to tell him, and that showing him would explain things far better than any words.

Elaine had come over for breakfast, and we were currently sitting at the table, drinking coffee and eating pancakes. You always knew I was overcompensating when I made pancakes. Oliver was in the living room, eating a bowl of Cheerios and watching television. He didn’t want the pancakes for some reason and was determined to have cereal. Oh, the whims of a five-year-old.

“I have to tell you something,” I said nervously, and Elaine glanced up from the magazine she’d been browsing. Her naturally pale eyebrows arched in concern as she sensed my apprehension.

“Yes, darling?” she said, giving me a warm, open smile. Did I mention how much I loved that she called me darling? She had this well-bred, upper-class fanciness about her. Sometimes I felt like maybe I could gain some of it by osmosis.

Okay, in for a penny, in for a pound. I didn’t want to beat around the bush, and Elaine wasn’t so vulnerable these days that she couldn’t handle a bit of a shocker.

“I found Oliver.”

She blinked at me in disbelief, her eyes darting to the doorway that led to the living room. “You mean, my Oliver?”

I nodded.

She got up from the table and began fanning herself with her hands as she paced back and forth. I watched tensely, worried that she might have a meltdown. Thankfully, that didn’t happen. Her voice was breathy with emotion and excitement when she finally spoke. “How did you find him? I mean, where is he?”

I told her to sit down and that I’d explain everything. And I did. All about Lille’s letter and how King had a half-sister who owned a circus, how he’d been living with her for years. How sick he’d become and how he was slowly trying to get better. She was wide-eyed and speechless by the time I’d finished recounting it all.

“Do you think he’ll want to see me?” she asked timidly.

“I know he does. He just wants to get better first, make himself presentable.”

She nodded, her eyes watery as she stared over my shoulder, and I knew her mind was elsewhere.

“I’m bringing Oliver to the circus today to introduce them. I can’t hide the fact that we have a son any longer.”

Elaine’s face grew concerned. “Is he ready for that?”

“Yes,” I said, “I think he is.”

***

“Where are we going, Mummy?” Oliver asked from the back seat of the car. I’d dressed him in his Sunday best, a little navy blue shirt and grey corduroy pants. His hair was neatly brushed to the side, and as I glanced at him through my overhead mirror, I felt my chest constrict. He looked so fucking adorable. There was just something about little people dressed like big people that got me every time. But more than that, he looked so much like his dad.

“We’re going to the circus,” I answered before concentrating back on the road.

“The circus!” he screeched with sheer excitement. This was the reason I’d held back on telling him. I knew he’d get all hyper and would be impossible to control. He bounced up and down in his seat, a gigantic smile on his face. “Mummy, you sneak! You kept this under wraps.” I burst out laughing at his turn of phrase.

“That I did.” I grinned at him.

“Will there be elephants?”

“Yup.”

“Oh, my God!” he exclaimed, putting his hands to his cheeks like he simply couldn’t contain himself. He bounced with more vigour now, his giddiness amping itself up to eleven. Jesus, I loved him. I parked along the street leading up to the circus and felt my heart begin to thrum. My entire body was full to the brim with nervous tension, and I felt a bit like I was walking on air. Or about to vomit.

Glancing at the clock on the dash, I saw it was five to two. We’d be meeting King in five minutes. In five minutes’ time, King was going to meet his son.

I took Oliver’s hand and led him down the street. All the while, my skin was breaking out into a cold sweat. When we arrived at the circus, I went and bought two tickets, but as soon as I let go of Oliver’s hand, he ran off ahead of me to the side of the tent, where there was a large cage containing two male lions.

“Liiiiiooooons!” he yelled giddily, waving his hands in the air. I hurried to catch up with him, swung my arm around his body, and lifted him into the air.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” I warned him. “You stick with me. You don’t go running off like that again, do you hear?”

He pouted. “Yes, Mummy.”

I let him down and then heard someone clear their throat from behind me. Jay and Jack stood a couple of feet away, both staring at Oliver with wide eyes. Oliver saw the two men and became uncharacteristically shy, grabbing my hand and hiding behind my leg.

“Is this…?” Jay began, and I nodded.

“Uh-huh.”

“Does King know?” Jack asked.

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, shit.”

Jay whacked him on the shoulder. “Hey! Language around the kid, bro.”

Jack slid his hands in his pockets and shot me a sheepish look. “Sorry.”

I blinked at him, hardly hearing what they were saying because I was still drowning in nerves. Oliver was staring up at them both like they were another species. Other than my dad, he wasn’t around men very often, and especially not men who looked like this.

“Alexis,” I heard a voice call from nearby, and had to close my eyes. What was I doing? This was way too soon. I silently wished I could teleport us right out of there, but I couldn’t. I had no other choice but to face the music. Footsteps sounded as King approached, and I forced myself to open my eyes. He wore a T-shirt, jeans, and boots. It was startling to see him in short sleeves when usually he wore several layers even in the blistering heat.

“Hi,” I said, hardly recognising my own voice. I glanced at Jay in panic, and he nodded his head in encouragement, as if to say, You can do this.

I could do this. I could.

King was still focused on me, a frown taking shape as he observed my nervous posture. Several beats of silence passed while my heart thumped loudly in my ears. It felt like the moment lasted an eternity, and then boom. King suddenly glanced down and saw Oliver. His glacial blue eyes returned to mine, a question in them.

“Your friend?” he asked, his voice a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

I swallowed thickly and summoned my courage before blurting out, “This is my son.”

“Hello,” said Oliver, waving, entirely oblivious to the momentous occasion. His voice brought King’s attention back to him, and I saw him take in his every feature, from his blue eyes to his blond hair, to the face that was almost a carbon copy of his own. They say that you resemble one parent more at different times in your life. Well, right then Oliver resembled his dad far more than his mother.

King’s jaw moved and he swallowed thickly, his eyes not leaving Oliver as he asked, “How old is he?”

“Five,” I answered, voice wavering even though I’d only uttered one syllable.

King ran both hands through his hair and looked away, a strain marking his form. I knew exactly what was happening; his mind was piecing together the information, doing the maths. When he looked back to me, his eyes were wet, and I felt the weight of everything he was feeling like a blow to the chest. Our gazes locked, the atmosphere heavy with unanswered questions. Finally, Oliver interrupted by tugging on my hand.

“Mummy, I want to go inside now.”

“Hey, buddy,” Jay said, stepping forward. “You wanna see something cool?”

Oliver nodded, and Jay pulled a deck of cards from his pocket, doing an impressive shuffle. Oliver let go of my hand and stepped forward, staring at the cards in fascination.

“Do it again!” he exclaimed with delight.

“I will, but first, do you want to come see the elephants before the show starts?”

Oliver nodded profusely, and I wordlessly let Jay take him, knowing King and I needed to talk. A moment later they were gone and we both stood there, people passing us by, wading through the ocean of questions that lay between us.

“I don’t understand,” he said, confounded.

I looked to the ground, shoving my hands in my pockets and muttering, “It’s not that complicated.”

King stepped forward hastily, his expression frantic and his voice airy. “He’s mine, isn’t he? Fucking hell, you only have to look at him to know he’s mine.” He turned away, staring at the people walking by, his mind clearly racing. Vaudeville fair music began to play through the speakers at the entrance to the circus, like a stark exclamation point at the end of his statement.

“He’s yours,” I breathed.

King rubbed at his jaw, where an attractive bit of stubble had started to grow. And then, just like that, he turned and walked away. Jesus. My shoes felt like they were stuck in a tub of cement as I stood there, not knowing what to do. When I finally regained my senses, I hurried after him. He’d rounded the tent and was making his way toward the camper vans when I got close enough to grab his elbow.

“Wait, don’t be angry with me, please,” I begged. He stopped walking and turned around, his features contorted in anguish. His eyes flickered between mine, his voice coming out strained and raspy.

“Christ, Alexis, I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself.”

“Why? You had no clue I was pregnant. Hell, I didn’t even figure it out until months after you’d disappeared.”

He huffed out a breath, hands frantically running through his hair again. “Yes, but I’ve been hiding for years, burying my head in the sand, and all the while you were out there, alone with a child that was mine. It just…it makes me feel worthless.”

I moved closer and lifted his hands from his hair, like I had to before when he was tugging it to the point where he was almost tearing it out. Sliding my fingers through his, I held both of his hands in mine and looked him in the eye. “You are not worthless, King. You’re the strongest person I know right now. I mean, look at you, look at how far you’ve come since I found you. Don’t you dare think for one second that I blame you for not being there. I had help. I had Karla and my parents, and your mum, too. The only thing I regret are the years you’ve missed, but I’m not going to dwell on them, and I won’t let you, either. He’s still young, King, and there are more years ahead of us than there are behind.”

Tears streamed down his face as he stared at me. “He’s so…perfect.” He paused, brought his hands to my face to cup my cheeks. “He’s like this perfect little human that we made together, and I don’t even know him.”

I reached up and placed my hands over his. “You’ll get to know him. And I wouldn’t go throwing around the word ‘perfect’ just yet,” I joked. “When he’s having a tantrum or coming into the house with dirt all over himself, he’s far from perfect, believe me.”

King let out a quiet, sad laugh and gripped me tighter. The quiet was punctuated by the pounding of my pulse, which I was sure he could feel. A long silence fell between us as we simply stood there, communicating without words. Finally, I spoke.

“Come on, let’s go back so that you can meet him properly.”

Indecision clouding his expression, he drew in a deep breath and wiped the tears from his eyes. There was something so heartachingly beautiful about the moment, and I wondered why I’d ever been scared to tell him. If anything, the discovery had brought more of the colour back into his eyes, and I was determined to replace every last bit.

We walked hand in hand to where the elephants were being kept, and found Jay with Oliver up on his shoulders so that he could reach out and pet one of their trunks.

“Hey!” I called, and he twisted around to see me.

“Mummy, I’m petting the elephant. Look!” he called back, and reached out again to touch it.

“I can see that, baby. Come here, there’s someone I want you to meet.” I could feel King’s intense stare on me when I spoke to our son, and then I saw his attention go to Oliver as Jay let him down off his shoulders. He came running at me and I caught him, lifting him up into my arms. He was getting taller by the week, his long legs dangling down from my hold.

I turned him to face King and said, “This is my friend. His name is Oliver.”

Oliver made a face. “But my name is Oliver.”

“That’s right. You’re both named Oliver.”

He let out a cute laugh. “That’s crazy.”

I laughed, too, and saw King smile. I could tell that he was still struggling with his emotions, but was making an effort to hold it together. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, little man,” he said, and reached out to take his hand and shake it. Oliver was quiet as he studied King, trying to suss him out. It was kind of adorable. I gave him a little nudge.

“What do you say back?”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too.”

King’s smile grew larger, and I felt like my heart was about to burst. I’d visualised this moment for years, imagined it happening in so many different ways, but now that it was actually here, there was no comparison. It was like a little piece of me that was broken was finally being healed. And if the look on King’s face was anything to go by, he was feeling exactly the same way.

“Oh, I know what we can do,” Oliver announced suddenly. “I can be Oliver 1 and you can be Oliver 2.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” King chuckled, the tenderness in his voice as he interacted with our son causing a deep, feminine part of me to ache.

I really wanted to tell him he could call him Daddy, but it was too soon. Oliver was an open, accepting sort of kid, but still, I knew I had to ease him into the idea that King was his father. Letting him down from my arms, we headed inside the tent for the start of the show. I bought Oliver some candy floss, so he was quiet as a mouse as he concentrated on stuffing his face. King seemed at a bit of a loss for how to act, but I just squeezed his hand to let him know he was doing fine. When we found some seats and King sat down, Oliver made his way over and unceremoniously began to climb onto his lap.

“I’ll sit here,” he said without preamble. I laughed. King stared at him, a mixture of amused and perplexed. This was typical Oliver behaviour, though; he befriended quickly. I shrugged and took the seat beside King as our son sat on his lap, happily eating away at his candy floss like he hadn’t a care in the world.

I looked at King then and whispered, “You okay?”

He swallowed and blinked a few times before clearing his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

I smiled and shot a glance in Oliver’s direction as he watched a few stage hands set up the props for the start of the show. “I think he’s decided you’re both going to be friends. Not sure you get a say in the matter. Sorry.”

King laughed gently. “That’s fine by me.”

“Thank you for being so cool about this,” I went on, voice soft.

“Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve fully comprehended what’s happening yet.”

His bemused tone made me chuckle, because I completely got where he was coming from. If I had been in King’s shoes right then, I’d probably be freaking the hell out.

Oliver twisted in his lap and practically shoved the candy floss in King’s face. “Want some?”

“Uh, sure,” he said, and picked off a piece.

“Oh, yeah, don’t bother to offer me any,” I mock-complained, and then the candy floss was being shoved in my face. I picked off a larger piece.

“Don’t eat it all,” Oliver whined before looking to King. “She always eats it all.”

King chuckled, his eyes alight and fascinated by every little thing that came out of Oliver’s mouth. A second later, the lights were dimmed and the start of the show was being announced. It turned out that Marina was the ringmaster, and she walked out wearing a long red coat and a top hat. Her capuchin monkey sat on her shoulder, and, just as I’d imagined when I first saw it, Oliver almost lost his shit.

“She has a monkey! Look, Mummy, she has a monkey!” He bounced on King’s lap, who bent down to tell him,

“That’s my sister Marina. Her monkey’s name is Pierre.”

Oliver looked up at him, a massive grin on his face and bits of pink candy floss stuck to his cheeks. “Can I meet him?”

King smiled at him, and again it made my heart go whoosh. “I’m sure I can arrange it.”

“You’re the best,” Oliver declared, and without warning reached up and threw his little arms around King’s neck for a hug. He seemed startled at first, but then his eyes came to mine and I saw the emotion in them. He squeezed him back, and somehow I knew in that moment that everything was going to be all right. I had to look away for a second and clear my throat to keep from getting all weepy.

The show began with Marina announcing the elephants.

“That’s the one I got to pet,” Oliver shouted, pointing to one of the large creatures.

He was mesmerised by the entire show, in particular Jay’s part, which even had my jaw hanging open in slack-jawed amazement. After Jay came Jack, but Oliver didn’t like this bit so much. In fact, all the fire frightened him, and he turned in King’s lap, shoving his face into his chest because he didn’t want to watch. King startled, hands in the air like he didn’t know what to do. I gave him an encouraging look and gestured to his hands. Finally he got the hint and wrapped his arms around Oliver as though protecting him from what scared him.

Unlike my son, I wasn’t scared by Jack’s act at all. On the contrary, I was a smidge titillated, especially since the man wore jeans and no shirt. I caught King shooting me an arch look, so I shrugged and mouthed a what? at him. He only grinned and shook his head, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was jealous. The thought made me oddly giddy.

During the intermission, Oliver was a chatty cat, as per usual. And he was more than fascinated by King.

“Why have you got long hair?”

King gave me a devious smile before replying, “Your mum likes it like this.”

Oliver turned to me, all inquisitive. “Why do you like his hair long, Mummy?”

I shot King an annoyed scowl, trying not to smile back, but my effort was useless. “Because it’s pretty and blond just like yours.”

By the look on his face, he didn’t like the sound of that. “I’m a boy. I’m not pretty. I’m handsome.”

His response made me laugh, and I was staring at King when I answered, “Sometimes boys can be pretty and handsome.”

“Granny Elaine tells me I’m handsome all the time,” Oliver preened.

A pained look crossed King’s face at the mention of his mother, and I knew exactly what I had left to do. I had to get him to go see her. The show came to an end, and Oliver wouldn’t hear a word about going home until he’d gotten to meet the monkey. King led us backstage, and Marina was more than happy to introduce Oliver to her furry companion. I even saw a bit of a shine in her eyes as she took in my boy. She kept looking between him and King, noting the similarities. I thought she might well up at one point, but she managed to hold it together.

“Do you want to come home with us for dinner?” I asked King quietly as Oliver giggled excitedly while Pierre stuck his monkey hands in my son’s shirt and trouser pockets, searching for loot.

King breathed deeply, standing close enough for me to feel his breath hit my skin. “Yes, I’d like that, Alexis.”

There was something intense in the way he said my name. It caused the tiny hairs on my arms to stand on end and my breathing to turn shallow. I started remembering our kiss from the night before, his tongue hot and wet in my mouth and his cock hard and ready in his pants. I blinked and looked away, trying to clear the images. I had no business thinking those sorts of thoughts right then.

A few minutes later, I finally managed to pull Oliver away from Pierre. Suddenly, all he could talk about was getting a pet monkey. We made our way to where I’d parked the car, and Oliver asked King to sit in the back with him so that they could talk. By the time we arrived at the house, he’d told him all about his friends at Montessori and how he was going to be starting at the big school in September.

Every once in a while my gaze would lock with King’s through the overhead mirror, and every time it happened, my skin tingled. He was here, in our lives, talking to our son like it was the most normal thing in the world. Feeling dizzy with happiness, I got out of the car and went around to let Oliver out. King exited from the other side and stood in our small garden, surveying the house in front of him.

“This is a nice place,” he said as I gestured for him to follow me inside.

“Thanks. It felt like it took me forever to save for the down payment. I’d put aside a bunch of money from my modelling work, but then when the agency took off, I could finally afford it.” I stopped talking when I realised I was rambling

“You like living here?” he asked.

“I love it,” I answered simply. “It’s home.”

Slipping my shoes off in the hallway, I padded barefoot into the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out the ingredients for dinner. I planned on making roast pork with potatoes and apple sauce. King took a stool by the counter and watched, while Oliver situated himself in the living room to play. He had this set of toy cars that he was currently obsessed with. All I’d hear was various renditions of vroom vroooom out of him for hours on end.

“It’s a good look for you,” King said randomly as I peeled potatoes.

“What is?”

“This place. I like how happy you seem here.”

“Well, like I said, I kind of have you to thank for it. You always used to big me up, tell me I could do whatever I wanted once I set my mind to it. And owning a home of my own has always been a big dream for me.”

His stare grew thoughtful. He didn’t say anything in response, and I suddenly felt awkward. It was probably because of the way he was looking at me so intently. I fingered the collar of my shirt, bashful, and his eyes wandered to the movement. His breath escaped him all at once before he blurted, “Is it strange to feel like I love him already, and I’ve only just met him?”

My heart gave a single hard thump, and I knew instantly he was talking about Oliver. His words caused my pulse to accelerate as I shook my head. “It’s not strange at all. I loved him from the moment I saw him.”

Now he frowned as he reached forward and clasped my hand. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for the birth. That’s not something you should have had to go through without me.”

I stared at him. “It is what it is. We can’t change the past. You’re here now, though. That’s all that matters.”

He squeezed my hand once before letting go, and I returned to preparing dinner. It was sort of disconcerting how he simply sat there and watched. Well, disconcerting and sexually frustrating, because the way he looked at me felt sensual. It always had. King had this intense way of studying people that was guaranteed to get any woman hot under the collar. Speaking of which, I was tugging on mine again, and he seemed to notice.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just a bit warm in here with the oven on. I think I’ll go upstairs and change into something lighter.”

King nodded. “Is it okay if I use your bathroom?”

“Sure, come and I’ll show you where it is.”

He followed me up the stairs, and I indicated the bathroom door on the right. Then I slipped inside my room and opened a drawer, searching for one of my light cotton T-shirts. Finding it, I slipped off my top and pulled the T-shirt on over my head. I heard the toilet flush, and a few moments later, King stepped out of the bathroom, the floor creaking under his step. The house felt so silent then, save for the low volume of the TV playing downstairs. My skin prickled to have him there, so close to my bed. I heard him pause on the landing, not making his way back downstairs yet.

“King?” I called softly.

As though my voice was an invitation, he stepped inside my room. His eyes travelled around the small space, wandering momentarily to my bed, where a couple of my things lay unsorted. Mostly underwear. It added a new tension to the moment, and I stood frozen to the spot, unsure how to act. Sad though it was to admit, I’d never had a man in this room before, and his presence made the place feel smaller.

He frowned and turned away. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I came in here.”

“You came in because I called you. Is everything all right?” I felt like I was always asking him this, but I couldn’t seem to help it. I constantly wanted to make sure he was feeling okay and not overwhelmed at all. He finally lifted his eyes to mine, and my tension ratcheted up a notch, a heavy thickness settling in my throat. The weight of the atmosphere between us was almost unbearable.

“You named him after me,” he whispered.

All I could do was nod, mouth falling open slightly, heart squeezing with so many different feelings all at once.

He breathed in and out, then took a step forward. I gripped the shirt I’d just taken off tightly in my hands and couldn’t help admiring his form. His T-shirt fit nicely around his broad shoulders, his hair hanging slightly forward to shield his face. Even before, I’d rarely seen him in jeans, but they hugged his slim waist attractively, accentuated by a simple brown leather belt. He looked so earthy and, well, just plain manly. It was hard to imagine a time when he’d donned designer suits and had his hair styled in a top London barber’s.

He continued moving toward me, and I started to back away. I wasn’t sure why, but I enjoyed the feeling of being trapped. Before I knew it, my back hit the wall, and he was right there, eyes holding me captive. The shirt fell from my hands as I sucked in a sharp breath. His chest met mine, and then he leaned his entire weight on me until I was flat against the wall. His weight wasn’t unpleasant – in fact, it felt nice. I savoured how our bodies aligned themselves together, and my breathing increased in speed.

“I like your bedroom,” said King, voice low and seductive. I couldn’t believe how confident he was being, how he so aggressively took the lead. Yet still, there was a tenderness, a certain level of hesitancy, as though he wasn’t quite sure if I’d allow him to get close. Right then, he couldn’t have gotten any closer.

“Thanks.”

His head dipped forward, his chin at my temple and his nose and lips in my hair. He inhaled deeply, and a shudder ran through me. He felt it, leaning on me even harder then. I was so wound up I thought I might melt into the wall. The way his body felt was causing my heart to race and my head to fill with images. My bed was right there. How easy would it be for him to throw me down on it and take me?

In that moment, I wanted to be taken.

“I keep thinking about last night and kissing you,” he murmured. I gasped sharply when he took my earlobe into his mouth and gently sucked. His tongue slid along the shell of my ear, and tingles radiated down my spine.

“Oh, God.”

He continued tonguing my ear, then shifted his body so I could feel his hardness pressing on my stomach. I wanted to moan, but bit down on my lip to keep it in. Oliver was just downstairs, and I didn’t want him to hear.

“I want you so badly. I wanted you from the very moment you walked up to me that day in the circus.” His words provoked the memory of him standing abruptly from his chair and walking towards me like I was the only thing he saw. How he’d touched me almost reverently, his fingers tracing my features like he didn’t believe I was real.

I moved a little, squeezing my thighs together to dull the ache he’d created. He noticed, and his lips began to curve into a smile. “What’s wrong, love?”

I stared at his throat. “Dinner. I need to go down and check on the food.”

“The food is fine.”

“It could burn.”

“It won’t. I want to touch you.”

I lifted my gaze, meeting his fierce eyes, and whispered, “Then touch me.”