“What are you thinking?”
I looked up to see Nick watching me intently, as if he could pry loose my secrets using nothing but his eyes. The two of us stared for a moment, before a feeling of overwhelming affection welled up inside me—warming my cheeks, before settling in my eyes.
“I was thinking about how you said this was only the first course...”
Without another word, he pushed back his chair and circled around the table. A second later, he’d scooped me up in his arms, and was carrying me gracefully up the stairs.
The two of us made love that night. We didn’t fuck. We didn’t challenge, torment, or tease each other with the wiles of our bodies. We made love.
It was tender. It was soft. And it was unbelievably sweet.
This is what I want, I thought, as I curled up sleepily in his arms. His eyes were closed, and judging by the slow rise and fall of his chest, he’d already drifted away. Not the world’s wealthiest bachelor. Not the international sex symbol and celebrity. This. Right here.
I want the man who hums Sinatra and carries me up to bed...
Chapter 12
WHEN I OPENED MY EYES the next morning, Nick was already gone. I wasn’t surprised. He had missed his run the previous morning, and the man got restless when he wasn’t in a state of constant activity. At this point, I was surprised he didn’t walk around in his sleep.
It was the day of the engagement party—a party we needed to arrive at no later than noon. And yet, despite the insane amount of stress that came with such an event, despite the overwhelming pressure—every moment of which was sure to be documented by the press—I felt a strange sense of calm.
Maybe it was the fact that in my sleep, I’d curled around Nick’s pillow. Maybe it was the fact that I knew he was going to be by my side every step of the way. Maybe it was just the fact that I was planning on gorging myself on leftover cassoulet for breakfast.
The elevator dinged open somewhere beneath me, and before I could even pull myself out of bed—Nick was thundering up the stairs.
“Well look who’s finally awake!”
With a mighty leap, he landed in the center of the bed—running shoes and all.
I covered my eyes with a little groan, as if somehow, the pre-sunrise exercise might rub off on me. “You know, I’ve always hated how cheerful you are in the morning.”
He bounced the mattress with a little grin.
“Blame it on boarding school. I never fully got off English time.”
I pressed a pillow over my face, mumbling sleepily all the while.
“I blame it on you...”
A second later, the pillow disappeared. Two sets of fingers clamped down over my wrists, and the next thing I knew, Nick was slinging me over his shoulder—carrying me off to the shower for his post-run rinse.
“Hey!” I pounded on his lower back, still trying to wake up enough to understand why I was suddenly hanging upside-down. His shirt was damp with sweat, and a delicious sandalwood aroma was drifting off his skin. “Not everyone has to do things according to your damn schedule, Hunter—has anyone ever told you that! It’s six in the fucking morning! I’ll shower when I’m good and ready.”
He completely ignored me, going about his morning routine with only one hand. Heating up the shower. Brushing his teeth. Every now and then, he would slap my ass for good measure.
“Hey!” I shrieked again, trying to control my giggling. “This is not funny, Nick! I’m serious—put me down!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he spat out a mouth of peppermint foam, straightening up to grin at me in the mirror, “in just one second.”
Exactly one second later, he started heading for the shower.
My muscles stiffened up and I clung to him like some kind of deranged monkey, trying to keep my balance, while trying to break away at the same time.
“You better not put me in there!” I warned. He didn’t stop moving. “Nick—I’m not kidding! I’m still in my clothes!”
He opened up the glass door and gave my legs a little squeeze.
“Don’t worry—so am I.”