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Gold(44)

By:Terry Bolryder


“That was…” Dante said, lacking for words for the first time since she’d known him.

“Amazing? Wonderful? Incredible? Take your pick,” Ella replied, satisfied she was able to obtain her goal and, in the process, see the sexiest thing she’d ever seen in her entire life.

“Beyond anything I ever imagined,” he said. “Though you didn’t need to do anything for me.”

“I did,” she said, stroking wet hair out of his face. “Because I wanted to.”

“Thank you,” he said. His stare on her was intense. What on earth was he thinking?

“I know we haven’t gone all the way yet,” she said, running her finger down his chest. “And I appreciate you being patient with me.”

“Of course,” he said. “I love you.”

They both froze. She bit her lip. Had he really just meant to say that?

He blinked, gold lashes tipped with tiny droplets of water. “Wait. I meant I love being patient with you.”

She cocked her head. “Really?”

He looked around for an escape or maybe a towel and then reluctantly lifted himself out of the tub. He grabbed a towel and rubbed it over himself quickly to dry off, then wrapped it around his waist and grabbed another for Ella.

“Come here,” he said. “Let’s get you dried off.”

What had just happened between them?





Fourteen





Great job, Dante. She thanks you for taking it slow and you confess your love for her.

It wasn’t his fault. He blamed the dress and the tub and her hands and her mouth and her eyes and her wonderful personality and—dammit. It was his fault.

Because he was in love with her, and he was no good at hiding his feelings.

And for some reason, she looked terribly nervous as she dried off with the towel, avoiding his gaze. She went ahead of him into the bedroom and began to change.

He visually checked to make sure the door was locked and the window shut and then remembered he’d made sure of both before the bath.

It had been even more amazing than he’d imagined it would be.

But what was he going to do now? Everything had been going swimmingly, literally, and now he had to explain his weird statement.

“Don’t you think that’s an odd thing to say?” she asked, now wearing soft flannel pajamas that matched top and bottom as she towel-dried her hair.

“Not if I mean it,” he said, sitting beside her.

“You barely know me,” she said, looking up at him. “I’m not… I told you I wasn’t looking for anything. That we were keeping this strictly business. And we should have, and now—”

He took her shoulders gently. “Why are you freaking out on me? Why does it matter if I say that? I’m still willing to go slow with you.”

“How?” she asked. “Don’t you know that puts pressure on me?” She put her head in her hands.

“I’m… sorry?” he asked.

“No, I’m sorry, Dante,” she said. “Look, I meant what I said before. I really had given up. I thought I didn’t need that in my life. Now we’re home for my family’s wedding, and I’m getting caught up in this make-believe romance with a guy that I hired.” She ran a hand through her hair and let out a sigh of aggravation. “I mean, what am I doing? Did lust make me totally lose my mind?”

“Was it only lust?” he asked. “Haven’t we hung out together, played games with your family together? Haven’t I defended you, and haven’t we argued? If you ask me, we’re more than lust.”

She nodded. “I know that. Mentally. But for some reason, it was easier for my brain to accept this whole thing when you weren’t claiming to love me.” She shook her head. “Love doesn’t happen in a week, Dante. It takes longer.”

“Who says?” he asked. “You’ve had your whole life to fall in love, and you haven’t. So obviously, time isn’t the answer either. Are you going to say you don’t love me? Because I felt you did in my arms.”

“I don’t know what love is,” she said, throwing her arms up. “I’m damaged, Dante. More than I should be. But after a life of bullying and name-calling and feeling ugly, plus things that made me feel ugly and made me want to close off and hide, it’s not easy for me to believe you could love me.”

“Then why are you letting me make love to you?”

“Because I don’t feel like your eyes could lie,” she said. “The more I looked into them, the more I believed you found me attractive. That’s why I said I could start by giving you my body, but not more.” She looked up at him. “Maybe my heart is too broken.”