This was how Cassius had evaded Stephen all those years ago. That man had stolen everything that was sacred in Cassius’s life. He’d even stolen the joy of this maze. We could reclaim it, here, now, together. If only my guide felt ready to open his heart completely to this, to me, to all the possibilities that surrounded us.
“Ready?” Cassius reached into another hedge, and his hand disappeared into the leaves.
We entered what had to be the center with four walls of green shrubbery. A secret hideout. He didn’t have to tell me this was the exact location where he’d sheltered all those years ago. Where he’d remained silent and waited for those evil men to give up and search elsewhere. That all those years ago it had saved his life.
Pulling the blanket off my shoulders, I laid it down in the center, tugging on the corners to make it a square. Cassius studied me carefully.
“You’re not leaving,” I said firmly.
His back stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“This is me kidnapping you.”
He looked amused. “Sure you want to go there?”
“Play along.” I motioned with a sweep of my hand.
He hesitated and went to say something, seemingly searching for the words his soul couldn’t say. His expression was full of wonder.
I knelt onto the blanket and tapped the fabric. “Down.”
He knew what this was. He also knew why I was doing it. Why it had to be here. Like this . . .
Cassius’s long fingers caressed his jaw thoughtfully. There was conflict in his eyes as he weighed what was being asked.
“This is not a request,” I said darkly.
He was at his most beautiful when his brows met, and his eyes softened, as though that final wall of his was coming down, the final wall of the maze.
The final puzzle was him.
Getting to know Cassius had been just as complex as this place, heading down one way and having to turn and find another pathway to get to this man’s soul. Discovering his depths, pushing beyond his darkness and seeing what lay at the center, a light that reflected so much love but had been hidden for too long.
Whether he saw it as a game or just did it to placate me, I didn’t care. He finally relented and lay on the blanket, his feet hanging off the end because he was so tall.
Leaning over him, my fingers trailed down his buttoned shirt, undoing one at a time, tugging the material open to reveal the fine hairs on his chest. Tracing a path over his toned chest, I admired the curves and the tautness of him. Tugging at his shirt, I helped him shrug out of the sleeves, leaving him bare-chested.
His hand came down on mine. “Careful, I might fall for you .”
My skin tingled with his touch. “Do you want to?”
He exhaled sharply. “Anya.”
His hold slipped from mine in a way to say he was surrendering.
He kicked off his shoes, one and then the other. Helping peel off his socks, I threw him a shy smile.
Moving onto his zipper, I lowered it and dragged his pants down over his hips, taking my time to strip him naked as I pulled down his boxers. A tall, exquisite form of a man lay exposed before me.
“Aren’t you going to take off yours?” he asked curiously.
“This isn’t about me.”
This wasn’t revenge for what he’d almost done to me in The Pontchartrain Hotel. This was him being totally vulnerable to me. This was me showing him how I felt about him. This was what I had needed more than the air itself. This yearning would destroy me if I couldn’t have him like this.
My craving for him intensified.
I traced a pattern with my fingertip over each tattoo, the compass design on his chest, the heart that had to mean family, and that sun on his wrist—the first tattoo I’d glimpsed when he’d knelt before me that time while I had hidden in the closet.
Now look at us, all fear gone and understanding left in its place.
“What does this one mean?” I asked of the compass.
He shrugged. “At the time, it was meant to represent not losing my way with myself. But clearly . . .”
“I found you,” I said wistfully.
“Actually, I found you.”
“No, I’m talking about the real Cassius, the one . . .”
His expression softened revealing he knew what I’d been about to confess, a word that terrified me, and surely scared him, too. Maybe showing him how I felt was safer for now.
Tenderly, I kissed along his jawline up to his mouth, softly at first and then nipping. He opened his lips further, and I used his movement to my advantage, dominating with pressure and making it mine. Tongues lashing each other’s, searching, claiming, a frenzied attack that turned tender.
Lavishing him with affection, I pulled my mouth away and made a new path with my lips.