by Lane, Nina
I break away from Dean so fast the back of my head thunks against the wall. He moves in front of me, all effortless composure, and turns to greet Allie.
“Hey, Allie.”
“Well, well.” Allie’s voice brightens. “I didn’t know you were back, Dean.”
“Just for a few days.”
Allie introduces Dean to her father, which gives me a chance to regain my own composure before I emerge from behind Dean’s shoulder. Dean steps forward to talk to Max, as Allie approaches me with a sly grin.
“Sorry,” I mutter with embarrassment.
“No worries,” she replies, her eyes twinkling behind her glasses. “There’s a reason I call him Professor Hottie, you know.”
I pull Dean away from Max so I can give him a tour of the building and tell him all of our plans. He is gratifyingly impressed and supportive, though he doesn’t offer any ideas of his own. On purpose, I know. He’ll keep his word and stay out of it.
“It’s fantastic, Liv,” he tells me. “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.”
“We’re trying.” I hesitate. “But I’ve been worried about us having enough working capital. I mentioned it to Kelsey this afternoon, and she offered to partner with us.”
“That’s great.”
“You’re okay with that?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Because I turned you down when you offered financial help. But a business partnership with Kelsey is different from me taking your money.”
“Liv, you wouldn’t be taking my money. Everything I own is yours too.”
“But this is a business. I need to treat it like one. Which means partnership agreements and budgeting, and not taking money out of our personal accounts just because it would be the easiest thing to do.”
Dean studies me for a second, then nods.
“Okay,” he says. “I get it.”
My slight anxiety eases. “Good. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.” He shakes his head, faint amusement flashing in his eyes. “You’re the one going into business with a pit viper.”
I smile. “More like a pit bull, don’t you think?”
“That too.”
After we return downstairs, Dean and Max, to neither Allie’s nor my surprise, begin talking about the history of architecture from the Coliseum to Frank Lloyd Wright. Their conversation then turns to the findings of the Altopascio dig, major-league spring training, a recent state senate bill, and finally this awesome bacon burger Max had at a new restaurant in Rainwood.
“How cute,” Allie whispers to me, nodding to where Dean and Max are standing by the front counter. “They’re BFFs already.”
It is pretty cute watching these two tall, handsome men discussing manly things. I think it’s kind of hot, too, though I don’t tell Allie that.
After another half hour, I walk with Dean back out to his car so he can head to Forest Grove.
He opens the car door, then turns to kiss me. His mouth, warm and firm, lingers on mine as he cups the side of my face in his palm. Before I can lose myself in his kiss again, he eases away to look at me.
“Six,” he murmurs, his eyes darkening with heat. “Be ready for me.”
“I am ready for you,” I breathe, as shivers shoot through my veins and settle between my legs.
“Be more ready.” He brushes his fingers across my cheek and turns to get into his car.
I watch him go, thinking all those medieval knights had nothing compared to the intense, sexy chivalry of Dean West.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Olivia
hen I get home, there’s a box wrapped in brown paper outside the front door. The name Mrs. Olivia West is scrawled in Dean’s familiar handwriting. With a smile, I bring the box inside and lift off the lid to reveal a clutter of puzzle pieces.
I dump the pieces onto the floor and start putting the puzzle together. Halfway to completion, I know what it is. An upwelling of love and emotion fills me.
I lock the last piece of the puzzle into place and stare at the photograph of me and Dean on our honeymoon in front of the Saint-Chapelle chapel in Paris. I grab my phone to call him, but his voicemail picks up. A text message from him buzzes a few seconds later.
Forty-five minutes.
I hurry to shower and dress in a purple, flower-print bra and matching hiphuggers under a fitted slip. I zip myself into a black sheath dress with a lace overlay, taking extra care with my hair and makeup.
I open the front door when I hear the foyer door snap closed. I step onto the landing just as Dean looks up.
A sizzle of energy arcs between us. My pulse zings through my veins at the sight of him—tall and handsome in a navy suit beneath his black coat. His hair gleams in the foyer lights, and a smile curves his mouth as he walks up the stairs to me, extending a bouquet of a dozen perfect red roses.
“Thank you.” I take the bouquet, the flowers’ perfume filling the air.
“If I’d thought about it earlier, I’d have recited a poem or something too.” Dean stops in front of me, his gaze filled with appreciation. “You’re so damned beautiful.”
“That’s all the poetry I need.” I stand on tiptoe to press my lips against his cheek. The scent of him slides into my blood—a hint of spicy aftershave mingling with the crisp night air.
“I love the puzzle,” I tell him.
“Good. One day soon I’ll take you to Paris again.” He tilts his head toward the street. “Ready?”
“Let me put the flowers in water and get my coat.” I gesture for him to come inside, while I go into the kitchen to find a vase.
After arranging the roses, I bring the bouquet into the living room. Dean is standing by the window, his hands in his pockets. The sight of him back in our apartment, right where he belongs, warms me down to my toes. With the town lights shining behind him, he’s so breathtakingly handsome that my heart does a little flip of happiness at the knowledge that he’s mine. All mine.
I set the vase on the coffee table and fuss a little more with the arrangement of the roses.
“Your peace lily bloomed,” Dean says.
“What?” I glance up.
“Your peace lily.” He tilts his head toward the open flower. “It’s pretty.”
I smile, pleased that he noticed. “It’s the same kind of plant I gave you that first time I went to your place for dinner.”
“I remember.” Warmth brews in his eyes as he returns his gaze to me. “That plant thrived because you took care of it the whole year.”
“And I thrived because you took care of me the whole year.”
Dean looks at me for a minute, then shakes his head. “Ah, Liv…”
I go to slide my arms around his waist, loving the hard press of his body against mine. He takes my hips in his hands, a murmur of pleasure rumbling from his chest as our lips meet.
“Let’s go, beauty,” he whispers, trailing his lips to my neck. “If we don’t leave now, my plan will be shot to hell.”
I laugh and untangle myself from him. We get our coats and walk to his car, and I’m so caught up in being with him again, breathing the same air, feeling the warmth of his presence beside me, that it’s a good half hour before I realize we’re heading out of Mirror Lake and up into the mountains.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“You’ll see.”
It’s a cloudy, crisp evening with reddish clouds skimming the mountaintops. Dean guides the car over a narrow road toward a domed building sitting on the crest of a ridge.
“The observatory?” I don’t quite get it. “What are we doing here?”
“Dating.” He winks at me and offers me his arm.
With a smile, I slide my hand into the crook of his elbow as we walk toward the entrance to the building. There’s a truck parked nearby, though I can’t see the
lettering on the side of it. Dean holds the door open for me, and we walk into the hushed silence of the lobby.
He pulls open the auditorium door, and all the breath escapes my lungs at the sight of the silent room lit by a million brilliant stars spread over the arched ceiling. Soft music plays from hidden speakers. It’s a singular, private universe, the stars and planets contained within this space, and for this moment, it’s all ours.
“How did you manage this?” I ask as Dean takes my hand and leads me to a cloth-covered table set up on the stage.
“Pulled a few strings,” he replies. “Closest I could get to giving you the universe.”
I smile. “Good one.”
“Wait here.”
A bouquet of spring flowers blooms on the table, which is set with china plates and wineglasses. A candle flickers, but the light can’t compete with the illumination of the stars. Dean returns a few minutes later with two delicious-smelling filet mignon dinners from the catering truck parked outside.
And under the dome of our own private universe, we spend a lovely hour eating and talking. My eyes keep straying to Dean’s mouth, the curve of his hand around his fork, the way the starlight glows off his hair.
I’m reminded anew of our very first date, which included our first kiss. Even now, my body tingles at the memory of the heat filling Dean’s eyes as he’d taken my face so gently in his hands.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he’d whispered, a second before our lips touched in a kiss that spun me into a whirlwind of knowing I could love this man.
That one day… I would.
Never before had I been so certain of my own instincts, and that knowledge has brought us to now.
After dinner, Dean spreads out a blanket on the stage and we lie back to look up at the stars sprinkled like sugar across the sky. Dean points out all the constellations and starts talking about medieval cosmology and philosophy. His deep voice flows over me, and I ease closer to him so our bodies touch.
“I wish it could be like this forever,” I whisper. “Just us and the stars.”
A faint apprehension ripples between us because we know it can’t be. Not with the threat to his career looming over us like smoke obscuring the sky.
But none of that can touch us here. It can’t obscure the beauty of our reunion.
Dean pushes to his feet, extending a hand to help me up. A little shudder runs through me at the heat in his eyes. We gather our things and return to the parking lot.
“Now.” Dean bends to nuzzle my neck right before opening the car door for me. “Come back with me. Be mine all over again.”
There is nothing in the universe I want more. Everything inside me lights with anticipation as we return to the Wildwood Inn.
When the cottage door closes behind us, my heartbeat intensifies. It’s been weeks of fraught, tense longing, our sexy phone calls no comparison to what we can create when we’re in the same room. Arousal blooms inside me, filling my veins with fire.
Dean leans against the door, his gold-flecked eyes sweeping over me in a slow, easy appraisal that makes my breath catch. I’m half-expecting him to stalk toward me with all that restrained lust uncoiling, to grab me in a wild fervor… but instead he gestures for me to come to him.
“Come here, beauty,” he says, his voice husky. “Give me what I’ve missed so much.”
My pulse pounds as I approach him. He lifts his hands and settles them against the back of my neck, his fingers sliding into my hair. The gentle way he holds my head, his gaze never leaving mine, wraps me in the knowledge of how precious I am to him. Everything inside me softens as I look at the lines of his cheekbones, his black eyebrows, the way his eyelashes frame his eyes, the shape of his mouth.
He lowers his head, his lips touching mine in a kiss of infinite warmth and tenderness, and then we’re both home again, back in the place of Liv and Dean, sparks lighting the air as we fall into the spiral of us.
Dean shifts his hands, angling my head so that he can settle his mouth securely against mine, parting my lips with his. My blood surges with a love that will never fade and a desire that has been denied too long. I slip my arms around his waist, feeling the heat of him through the material of his suit and my dress.
He murmurs something low in his throat, caressing the arch of my back and down to my hips. I nestle closer, light glowing inside me like a million fireflies as our kiss deepens. My heart pounds against his. It’s everything we’ve both craved all these weeks—the movement of our lips pressed together, the grip of his hands on my hips, my breasts rubbing against his chest.
Dean lifts one hand to my neck again, pushing my hair aside so he can unzip my dress. I let the material slither over my shoulders and fall in a puddle at my feet. I’m wearing a fitted satin slip over my lingerie, and Dean’s breath escapes in a rush as he slides his gaze over my body again.
“Beauty, you make me want to stop time so I can look at you forever,” he whispers as he pulls me closer.
He cups my breasts, his thumbs flicking over my hardening nipples, and my sex clenches with growing urgency. I lift my face to his again, desperate for more of his exhilarating kisses, and then he tucks his arm beneath my legs and lifts me against him. I twine my arms around his neck, bringing our mouths together again as he takes a few strides to the bed and lowers me onto the feather-soft quilt.
For all our pent-up longing and sexy talk, for all my expectations that we would fall on each other in a crash of frenzied heat… a lovely sense of restraint winds through us both. Dean eases on top of me, our lips still locked together.
The weight of my husband’s body, combined with the deliciousness of his kiss, envelops me in a warm, protective shelter. I run my hands over his back and part my legs so he can settle between them. His erection presses against my thigh, the sensation eliciting a new wave of lust.
Dean moves his lips across my cheek, his breath a hot trail to my ear. Tension rolls through his body as he tangles his fingers into the straps of my slip and pulls them off my shoulders. I shift to help him, thrilled by the way his gaze darkens as he stares at my breasts clad in the flowered purple bra.
He growls low in his throat with appreciation before moving to press his mouth against the swells of my breasts, tugging the slip down around my waist. The touch of his lips and hands on my bare skin fires my whole body with heat.
I spear my hands into his thick hair as he tugs at the top edges of my bra to expose my breasts. He groans and takes one nipple between his teeth, rolling his tongue around the areola. Sparks rain through my blood. With a gasp, I shift and arch to rub against his erection.
“Oh, Dean… Touch me, please…”
His response is muffled against my skin as he moves to kiss my neck, the hollow of my throat where my pulse beats. He tugs the slip off me and tosses it to the floor. When he eases his forefinger beneath my panties and into my slit, my body flames.
“Ah, fuck, Liv…” His voice is hoarse with desire. “Want you so bad…”
He shifts to lower his mouth to mine again. His cock is rock-hard, pushing against the front of his trousers. Desperate need floods me as he slides two fingers into my body and circles my clit with his thumb.
“Come on, beauty,” he whispers against my mouth, his teeth closing gently on my lower lip.
I’m lost in the swirling, beautiful pleasure of his intoxicating kisses, his body pressed against mine, his fingers stroking me. I tighten my hands on his shirt, letting my head fall back as he eases another finger inside me. One more stroke and sensation bursts through me in an explosion of light, wrenching a cry from my throat.
Dean’s voice is a low rumble against my ear, his muscles taut as he pulls at my panties and unhooks my bra. When I’m naked, his hot gaze moves over my body like the most fervent of touches. He lowers his head, and then he’s kissing me everywhere, his lips gentle on my breasts, dow
n to my belly, his tongue circling my navel as his hands glide over the curves of my waist and hips.
I melt, closing my eyes as sensation washes over my skin. I feel like flowers are blooming inside me, velvety petals stretching and spreading open in the golden warmth of the sun. I tangle one hand into Dean’s hair, brushing it back from his forehead as he moves to press kisses against my other palm, over the pulse beating at my wrist, and up my arm to my shoulder. By the time he reaches my lips again, I’m tingling all over with fresh desire.
“Your turn,” I whisper, pressing on his shoulders to urge him to lie back.
My heart races as I straddle his waist and unfasten his tie, pulling it off with one tug. I yank at his shirt, buttons popping off in my sudden haste to get him naked.
When his shirt is fully open, I sit back and drink in the sight of him, all the gorgeous details I’ve only seen in my dreams for the past few weeks—the slopes of his hard pecs, the ridges of his torso, the line of hair arrowing down and disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers.
His eyes are hot as he watches me spread my hands over his chest, his muscles rippling with the force of his breath. I trace all the lines of his abdomen, back up to his chest and over his shoulders, reacquainting myself with the map of my husband’s body.
When my core begins to throb again, I move back on his thighs to unfasten his belt and trousers, releasing his thick, erect cock. I close my hand around his smooth shaft, running my fingers over the pulsing veins.
With a groan, Dean grasps my wrist. “Need to be inside you.”
I ease back up the length of his body, pressing my fingers between my thighs, shivering as another explosion rocks my insides. He sheds his clothes and rolls me onto my back again.
“I need you inside me,” I gasp and arch toward him. “Do you have a—”
A faint relief curls through me when he reaches for a condom from his wallet. I want us back again before we leave things up to chance, and I want us both to go into our future knowing exactly what we’re doing.
The air around us loosens, releases, as if all the pain of recent months has been a messy, snarled ball of knots that is now, finally, unraveling into silken threads of lust and love. Wrapping us in our own personal intimacy, the place where everything is right.