“It’s from the first print run. I think it might have been rebound at some point, but everything else is original. I figured you could use a book to start your fancy library with.”
I hear his voice, but I barely absorb what he’s saying while I leaf through the book. It’s so beautiful. “Gavin...” I flip to the title page. 1865. He’s not kidding. It must be worth a fortune. “This is amazing, but I can’t take it. It’s too much. And where did you get it?” As soon as I ask, I remember the helicopter. “Wait, this is what the helicopter was here for? You airlifted a book for me?”
“And the flowers. I wasn’t exactly going to find what I was looking for between the postcards and the fridge magnets in the gift shop.” His voice is smug, like what else would you do if you’re trapped at sea and need a grand gesture? It doesn’t hurt that he knows he nailed the gift just about perfectly.
Shaking, I carefully put the book back in its box and set it on the table next to the roses. “I’m afraid to touch it.” I turn to face him and find him a lot closer than I expect. He looks like the cat that got the canary. “What if I break it?”
“Then we’ll get another book, but you won’t. Who else will take as good care of it?” Reaching out, he puts his finger under my chin and lifts, forcing me to look into his eyes. Suddenly, I’m out of breath, my heart thundering in my chest. He leans closer. “It’s just paper. What are you afraid of?”
I tear away from him, turning my back. It’s surprising how hard I find it. “Gavin, that paper is probably worth more than I am.”
“Impossible.” His breath is hot against the back of my neck. “What are you really afraid of?”
“You,” I whisper. “You can’t accuse me of using you to get things, and then give me things to fix it. How do I know you won’t use it against me?”
“I guess you don’t.” His frank answer throws me off. “Forgive me or don’t. I want you to have the book, either way. It’s not a trade. I can’t imagine that it could possibly be in any better hands than yours, and a trip as crazy as this one deserves something special as a reminder.”
His hands close around my upper arms. “I can’t stop thinking about you, babe, and I hope you’re as sick of denying this thing between us as I am. I hope you like the book, but personally I couldn’t give a fuck about it. What I was really hoping was that it would get your attention long enough for you to accept my apology, because that’s what I need more than anything else right now. You’re what I need more than anything else right now.”
This whole setup is like out of a movie written specifically to make me fall in love with him. It’s almost too perfect, and a little bit of the bitch slips out, trying to hurt him and make him show his true colors. “Run out of girls to pass your time with?”
His fingers go tight around my arms. “I didn’t touch them. Not a single one. If you want to push me away, you’re going to have to try harder than that. I don’t expect you to trust me right away, but tell me what to do to fix this, and I will.” He holds me closer. “All I can think about is you.”
I want to believe him. No, I do believe that he means it, now, but what about tomorrow? Next week? How can this work? “What about our parents?” I’m running out of reasons not to give in.
“What about them?”
“Don’t you think it would be kind of awkward, Bro?”
There’s a quiet pause before he laughs. “I called Dad, you know. To tell him about the money.”
I’d assumed, but it was good to know. “What did he say?”
“That I’m an idiot, more or less. And that I could do a hell of a lot worse than you. To be honest, I kind of got the feeling he’d rather have you as a daughter than me as a son, but I’ll try not to hold that against you.” Gavin laughs humorlessly. “You’re right, that would be awkward. But as far as not wanting us together? Be more afraid of him trying to lock you in before you can get away.”
I let out a short giggle. “I’m not, you know.”
“Hm?”
“Trying to get away.”
He pulls me close, holding me tight against him. “Like you have a fucking choice. You’re mine.”
The intensity in his voice sends shivers down my spine. “So you think you’ve won, do you? What if I change my mind?” From the way heat is pooling between my legs at his firm touch, I realize the question is very, very hypothetical.
He growls into my ear, “I really don’t like to lose.”