can only do so much. It can’t completely hide the scars of all that has happened.
I stare around the room. It’s all glass, with a few comfy chairs, and a couple of tables. Flowers, and plants decorate every corner. It’s light and airy, nothing like the writing cave I remember him in. He must sense my surprise because he says, “I write here most days.”
“That’s unusual,” I remark.
“I can write better here. It’s still enclosed but I can see out.”
I glance outside. His grounds are a place of beauty. “It’s very bright.” I recall how he never had the blinds up, how he would never let any light in.
“It suits me these days.” He walks towards me and my body starts to cheer. Cells jumping like pre-schoolers at play. My heart swoons all over again as he takes my hand in his big strong one, lifting it to his lips and pressing his lips against it. A shaky breath falls from my lips, as if I’ve run out of air. I’d hoped he’d have kept that distance between us, because I can’t take so much of this, so soon.
His aura, powerful and overwhelming, and his presence, commanding and strong are enough to unnerve me. I had schooled myself into toughness the entire journey here, and yet, here I am, weak and vulnerable, and all he had to do was kiss my hand.
His eyes are dark and dangerous, but our gazes lock steadily and I feel the warmth that emanates from them. His lips curl up into a smile and my heart floats away. This is intoxicating, him still holding my hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it while his gaze burns into me. “How have you been?” he asks.
“Oh, you know, getting by.”
“You can do better than getting by.”
“It’s not always that easy,” I shoot back. It has been a struggle.
“I know.” His thumb on my skin is comforting, and a reminder of the good times we’ve shared.
“I’ve missed you, Mari. I’ve been looking out for you every day.”
I try to swallow, but can’t, because my muscles have gone on strike. “Every day?” I manage to say, finally.
“Every day.”
He holds my gaze, that look alone making me shake and throb with excitement. I had forgotten how strong it could be, the electric sizzle that rolls in the air whenever he and I meet; how much desire and yearning can co-exist in the few inches between us. He kisses my hand again. “I couldn’t be happier to see you.”
“I needed to see you,” I tell him, my stomach sinking then rising, as if it’s on choppy seas, with no sign of land in sight.
“Needed?” He dips his head, amusement twinkling in his eyes, as if this makes him happy.
I can’t remember what I was supposed to say to him. I’d been working on my lines all the way here, hoping to come across all casual and unaffected as if I had strolled by all the way from Chicago to New Orleans.
“Needed, Mari?” he asks again, as if he needs to know. There’s an intensity in his voice that I pick up on.
“Needed,” I confess. “I tried to forget you but I couldn’t. I tried so hard to shut you out of my thoughts, but you always crept back in.”
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I wasn’t planning to do what I always do, to tell him how I feel, to state my feelings first. I’d hoped I would be stronger, more together, but Ward has unravelled me. He did that right from the start and nothing is going to change that.
My gaze falls to his lips, then up to his eyes, then to his broad, broad shoulders. I’m a goner. The space between my legs, the part that belongs only to him, aches with lust.
He smiles, and my heart is in danger of bursting through my chest and flying right out of his floor-to-ceiling glass walls.
“You’re in my thoughts every moment, Mari. I never stopped thinking about you and I could never forget you.”
“But you waited for me to come to you?” I protest. “What if I hadn’t, then what?
“I had plans to return to Chicago and write the next book. I was going to ask for my trusty housekeeper to come back and work for me.”
“Trusty?” I wonder how he can use that word after what happened.
“Trusty, sexy, caring.” He slides his hands around my waist. “I love you.”
My need for this man intensifies exponentially. My