She stops beneath one of the beech trees and looks down at her boots, and I don’t know if she’s going to answer me.

“I was hurt,” she says after an age.

“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. But where would you have gone?”

“I don’t know.” She turns to face me. “I think it was…how do you say? Instinct. You know, Ylli and Dante…I’ve been running for so long. I was a little crazy.”

“I can’t imagine how terrifying that was for you.” I cringe and close my eyes, thanking all the gods that I got to her in time. “But you can’t run every time we have a problem. Talk to me. Ask me questions. About anything. I’m here. I’ll listen. Argue with me. Shout at me. I’ll argue with you. I’ll shout at you. I’ll get it wrong. You’ll get it wrong. That’s all okay. But to resolve our differences, we have to communicate.”

A fleeting look of anxiety crosses her face.

“Hey.” I tilt her chin up and draw her closer to me. “Don’t look worried. If…if you’re going to live with me…you know. You need to tell me how you feel.”

“Live with you?” she whispers.

“Yeah.”

“Here?”

“Here. And in London. Yes. I want you to live with me.”

“As your cleaner?”

I laugh and shake my head. “No. As my girlfriend. I meant what I said on the landing. Let’s do this.” I hold my breath. My heart is racing. And deep down, I don’t know what choice she has—but I love her. I want her with me. Marriage seems too big a step to throw at her right now. I don’t want her to run again.

Bro, it’s also a big step for you!

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Yes?”

“Yes!”

With a shout of joy, I scoop her up and swing her around. The dogs start barking and jump up at us with tails wagging, eager to join in the fun. She’s giggling, but suddenly she winces.

Shit.

I set her down immediately.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she says, and I take her face between my palms, and she sobers, her eyes shining with love and maybe desire.

Alessia.

Leaning down, I kiss her. And what’s meant to be a gentle I-love-you kiss becomes something…other. She opens up like an exotic flower, kissing me back with a passion that’s staggering and I revel in all she has to give.

Her tongue in my mouth.

Her hands moving over my back and clutching at the material of my coat.

All the stress of this morning—the sight of her with those lowlifes, the fact that I might never have seen her again—all of that vanishes, and I pour my fears and my gratitude that she’s still with me into our kiss. When we come up for air, our breath mingles in a steamy fog in the cold around us, and her fingers are wrapped around the lapels of my coat.

Jensen sticks his muzzle into my thigh. Ignoring him, I lean back to look at Alessia’s dazed expression. “I think Jensen wants to join in.”

Her giggle is breathy, and it speaks directly to my groin.

“I also think we’re wearing too many clothes.” I rest my forehead on hers.

“Do you want to take them off?” She chews on her lip.

“Always.”

“I am warm. Too warm,” she whispers.

What?

I look down at her once more. My remark was flippant and meant to be amusing—not a come-on.

What is she saying?

“Oh, sweetheart, you’ve just been through a terrible ordeal.”

She lifts one shoulder in a “so what?” manner and averts her eyes.

“What are you telling me?” I ask.

“I think you know.”

“You want to go to bed?”

Her broad grin is all the encouragement I need, and against my better judgment I grab her hand. Beaming and giddy, we trot back to the house with the dogs in hot pursuit.

* * *

“This is my room.” Maxim stands aside for Alessia to enter. It’s a few doors down from the blue room where Danny had brought her earlier.

A magnificent four-poster dominates the dark green room. Made of the same highly polished wood as the piano, the bed is just as intricately carved. The flames in the fireplace cast flickering shadows over the carvings. Above the mantelpiece there’s a painting of the house and the surrounding countryside, and at the far end of the room stands an immense wardrobe in the same wood as the bed. On every wall are shelves covered in books and curios, but Alessia’s gaze is drawn to the nightstand where the little dragon night-light sits.

Maxim throws several more logs on the fire until it blazes. “Good. I’m glad someone had the foresight to light the fire.” Returning to stand in front of her, he points to a wicker basket perched on the ottoman at the end of the bed. “I’ve had your stuff brought here from the Hideout. I hope that’s okay.” His voice is low and soft, and his eyes glow. Intense. Growing larger and darker…full of his desire.

A tingle runs down Alessia’s spine.

“It’s okay,” she whispers.

“You’ve had a rough day.”

“I want to go to bed.” She remembers their kiss on the stairs. She would have taken his clothes off then and there if she’d had the nerve.

He strokes her face. “Maybe you’re still in shock.”

“I am,” she whispers. “I am shocked that you love me.”

“With all my heart,” Maxim says with real sincerity, but then he smiles and puts his arm around her. “And with this.” He tilts his pelvis forward so she can feel his erection against her hip. His eyes alive with carnal humor. She returns his smile as the fire in her belly ignites. She’s been longing to touch him—after all, he’s touched her everywhere, with his hands…with his lips…with his tongue, just as he promised. Her gaze moves to his mouth, his skilled and sensual mouth, and the flames in her belly lick higher.

“What do you want, beautiful?” The backs of his fingers stroke her face, and his eyes sear her soul. She’s wanted him since he said he loved her.

“I want you.” The words are barely audible.

He groans. “You never cease to surprise me.”

“Do you like surprises?”

“From you, very much.”

Alessia tugs at his white shirt until it slips out of the waistband of his jeans. “Are you going to undress me?” Maxim’s voice is hoarse, like he’s stopped breathing.

She eyes him from beneath her lashes. “Yes.” She can do this. And with brave but trembling fingers, she undoes the lowest of his shirt buttons. She glances up at him.

“Go on,” he coaxes, his tone soft and seductive.

Alessia hears the burgeoning excitement in his voice. It feeds her desire. She undoes the next one up, revealing the top button of his jeans and the line of hair that points to his lean abs. The next button reveals his navel and his honed stomach muscles. Maxim’s breathing alters. Rising. More rapid. The sound excites her, and her fingers fly up his shirt, unfastening it until it’s hanging loose and open, revealing his sun-kissed chest. She longs to lean forward and place her lips against his flesh.

“What now, Alessia?” He’s waiting. “Whatever you want,” he says, arousing her. She leans forward and presses her lips against the warmth of his chest, where his heart thunders beneath his skin.

* * *

I am itching to touch her. But I can’t. This is the most audacious she’s been with me since we first made love. My body is straining. How can her innocent touch be so erotic? She’s driving me wild. She eases my shirt over my shoulders and tugs it down to my elbows. I present her with my wrists. “Cuffs.”

She flashes me a grin and undoes each one in turn, then drags my shirt off and drapes it over the armchair in front of the fire.

* * *

“Now what are you going to do?” he says. Alessia steps back to admire his fine, toned physique in the dancing light of the fire. The gold in his hair glints, and his eyes are a luminous green. They watch her, full of promise as he stares.

Emboldened by his gaze, she reaches down and peels off her sweater, then tugs her football shirt over her head and shakes her hair loose. But her courage fails at the last minute, and she hesitates, holding the top to her breasts. Maxim steps forward and gently takes it from her. “You’re lovely. I like looking at you. You won’t be needing this.” He tosses it on top of his shirt, then takes a strand of her hair and winds it around his finger. Bringing it to his lips, he kisses it. “You are so brave. In so many ways. And I’ve fallen for you. All of you. Madly. Passionately.” His words heat her blood, and he tugs the lock, drawing her into his arms. He angles her head and kisses her like his life depends on it. “I could have lost you,” he whispers.

His skin is warm against hers, and the desire within her burns brighter. She wants him. All of him. Greedily, she kisses him, her tongue twisting with his. Her hands rest on the back of his head, drawing him closer. His lips move to her jaw, her throat. And her hands travel down his body to the waistband of his jeans.

She wants to touch him. Every inch of him. But she stops. She doesn’t know what to do. Maxim holds her chin tenderly between his fingers. “Alessia,” he growls against her ear. “I want you to touch me.” The need in his voice is arousing.

“I want to.”

He grazes her earlobe with his teeth.