had I, while taking his weight on his strong, sinewy arms.
Basking in the afterglow of an orgasm that tingled from my toes, almost blasting me away, I turned around and looked at the mess of a man before me. I laughed.
His serious expression ironed out slightly, and a tiny smile touched his lips.
“What?”
“Nothing. That was so intense and amazing.”
His eyes remained dark and serious. “You’re mine, Penelope.”
I didn’t even flinch at that statement of ownership. He could have me. Totally. “As long as you’re mine,” I said with a sigh.
I fell into those deep-blue pools of complexity. One side of his mouth lifted, which I supposed was as good as a yes.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
Although his swift change of mood jolted me out of our romantic bubble, I responded with an emphatic, “Yes. I’m starving.”
He left for the bathroom and returned with a towel, which he handed to me. “How about if I get Maria to whip up some pasta?”
“Yum. Maria’s a legend.”
“That she is. Italian food’s always been one of my weaknesses,” he said, zipping up his pants.
“One of your weaknesses?” I lifted an eyebrow.
“Well.” He grinned as he came toward me and brushed back my hair. “Girls with long dark hair and big brown eyes and…” His hands fondled my breasts.
“You’re insatiable.” I giggled.
“You’re my weakness, Penelope.”
“That may not be a good thing.”
“Enough deep stuff for one night. Huh?” He tilted his handsome head and made me smile. “I’ll go and see what Maria’s been cooking.”
“Great.” I tightened the tie of his cozy bathrobe.
Just as he was about to leave, Blake paused. “There’s something you could do for me, if you don’t mind.”
“What’s that?”
“Call Lilly and find out what’s happened to James.”
“You want me to be your spy?”
“I need to find him. He’s not returning my calls, which is very unlike him.”
I nodded pensively. “Sure. I’ll see what I can find out.”
When I finally got through to Lilly, she told me that James was fine and even described their most recent sexual escapade. It was another girl-on-girl encounter, but this time, she said, “He got in on the action.”
I cringed at how normal she made that seem, and steered the conversation away from her sexual escapades. “Tell me about James and Dylan Fox at the masked ball.”
“Not much to say, only that they seemed chummy. Why?”
It sickened me hearing that James was chummy with Blake’s enemy. I ignored her question. “Did you hang close? I mean, did you hear what they talked about?”
“I didn’t hear anything. But come to think of it, James was kind of upset afterward.”
“That Dylan Fox is a really bad guy.”
“It was just that one time at the ball. He had an icky vibe about him, I have to admit. Creepy eyes.”
I recalled how my bones had chilled from his creepy and undressing stare.
* * *
AFTER TWO DAYS OF hard work, I’d completed my essays. Inspired by Blake’s unwavering belief in me, I put my head down and voilà, I finished.
Blake left me alone to work, while he met with designers for his new spa, which I couldn’t wait to visit. I even found some time to sketch by the charming pond at the bottom of the hotel where we stayed.
Blake had missed his calling as an editor. He made excellent suggestions and pointed out repetitions, ambiguities, and grammatical errors. I kept shaking my head, and he’d respond with a questioning frown. The man just didn’t accept compliments. He didn’t have a vain bone in that beautiful body.
On the downside, my sheet clawing while Blake slept had darkened an otherwise perfect weekend. He’d warned me. His writhing and gut-wrenching cries not only kept me awake but turned me into a quivering wreck as well.
By morning, instead of making love, Blake sat at the end of the bed, shirtless, with his head in his hands. Looking raw, he looked up at me with those apologetic big blue eyes.
I wanted him more. His vulnerability brought him closer, even if he hated himself for it.
“Blake, you need help,” I murmured gently, trying to bring him back. But he’d retreated into a solitary wilderness. His silence wedged a gap between us.
When we drove back home, I broached the subject of his violent nightmare with careful pauses. His hand reached out to mine, and without turning to look at me, keeping his eyes on the road, he murmured, “I’ll continue to seek help.”
“That means everything to me.” I chose my words carefully, for it felt like a breakthrough