his eyes are
closed.
“Yes. Hea一ven,” he says softly. “I meant what I said.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to let you go.”
“I don’t want to go.”
He smiles and it’s this new, shy smile that dissolves
everything in its path. Boy, it’s powerful.
“Good,” he says simply, and he visibly relaxes.
I drive into the parking lot half a block from SIP.
“I’ll walk you to work. Taylor will take me from
there,” Christian offers. I clamber out of the car, restricted
by my pencil skirt while Christian climbs out gracefully, at
ease with his body or giving the impression of someone at
ease with his body. Hmm . . . someone who can’t bear to
be touched can’t be that at ease. I frown at my errant
thought.
“Don’t forget we’re seeing Flynn at seven this
evening,” he says as he holds his hand out to me. I press
the remote door lock and take his hand.
“I won’t forget. I’ll compile a list of questions for him.”
“Questions? About me?”
I nod.
“I can answer any questions you ha一ve about me.”
Christian looks affronted.
I smile at him. “Yes, but I want the unbiased,
expensive charlatan’s opinion.”
He frowns and suddenly pulls me into his embrace,
holding both my hands tightly behind my back.
“Is this a good idea?” he says, his voice low and
husky. I lean back to see the anxiety looming large and
wide in his eyes. It tears at my soul.
“If you don’t want me to, I won’t.” I stare at him,
blinking, wanting to caress the concern out of his face. I
tug on one of my hands and he frees it. I touch his cheek
tenderly—it’s smooth from sha一ving this morning.
“What are you worried about?” I ask, my voice soft
and soothing.
“That you’ll go.”
“Christian, how many times do I ha一ve to tell you—I’m
not going anywhere. You’ve already told me the worst.
I’m not lea一ving you.”
“Then why ha一ven’t you answered me?”
“Answered you?” I murmur disingenuously.
“You know what I’m talking about, Ana.”
I sigh. “I want to know that I’m enough for you,
Christian. That’s all.”
“And you won’t take my word for it?” he says
exasperated, re
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