“Dad … I won’t explain who North is or what’s between us. I just need your help.”
“If he hurts you—”
“Dad.”
“Fine,” he grumbled. “But this better not mean we’re losing you to Scotland permanently.”
I smiled, staring out my office window at the castle grounds, but I didn’t answer because I was suddenly excited to discover if that was a promise I couldn’t keep.
Twenty-Seven
NORTH
“Cut!”
I blinked, coming back to myself as Blake Forster stepped into the scene. My head throbbed and the stuntman, Dec, I’d been fighting, pulled me to my feet. “Staircase caught you there.” He looked past the cameras to the crew. “Medic.”
“I’m all right.” I dabbed at the shallow cut I’d sustained when Dec had thrown me against the stair banisters on the set.
Blake took in the minor injury. “We’re switching out with your stunt double, so get that looked at.” Then he grinned as he smacked my arm. “That was perfect. Whatever rage you’re channeling, keep it up.”
My “rage” was actual fear manifesting as fury. As soon as I’d sent Aria my journals, an overwhelming terror of rejection and abandonment flooded me. It didn’t take a fucking psychologist to work out where the fear stemmed from.
The result was that I’d been on edge for the last few days, so I’d poured it all into the movie. There was nothing else for it. As soon as I stepped off camera these days, my gut churned as North. But finally, I had tapped into Daniel, and his gut didn’t churn. It was a nice reprieve.
Walking with the medic, we cleared the cameras and I rested my arse against the buffet table so she could reach me to clean my cut.
“It doesn’t look too bad,” she murmured as she sterilized it.
I nodded, my fingers curling into the table as my gaze drifted over her shoulder toward the scene they were resetting for my stunt double, Mick. White beneath the soundstage lights caught my eye.
Aria.
She stood tall in jeans, a white shirt open loose over a black strappy top that clung to her curves. She wore her hair down.
This was sexy, casual Aria that people didn’t get to see often.
I blinked rapidly, cursing that I was actually starting to hallucinate her. But then she turned as if looking for someone, and I saw the security pass hanging around her neck.
Aria was here.
Anticipation rushed through me. “Excuse me,” I muttered distractedly to the medic, gently extricating myself from her to go to Aria.
My movement drew Aria’s attention, and our eyes met across the room. She was here. She was really fucking here. Hope shortened my breath. By the time I reached her, I was practically bloody panting.
Her gorgeous eyes were bright in the dim light as she searched my face as if cataloguing it. “I—I’m so mad at you for mailing something so private. Anyone could have found those journals.”
What?
Okay.
Disappointment crept in. That wasn’t what I’d expected her first words to be. My throat closed.
“So …” She stepped into my personal space, her perfume filling my senses. “I brought them back, personally.”
What did that mean?
My fingers flexed at my sides with the urge to touch her.
At my continued silence, Aria’s brows drew together as if in pain. “North, I am so sorry for pushing you away. And if you still want me … I want to try something real with you.”
Relief and euphoria flooded me, my grin splitting my cheeks. “Aye? Really?”
Aria smiled big, too, so beautiful she made my chest ache. “Really.”
She’d barely said the word when I’d hooked my hand around her nape to crush her mouth to mine. The feel of her lips, her taste … it was right. No woman’s kiss had ever been more right than Aria Howard’s. I kissed her like we’d spent years apart instead of weeks. I kissed her as if we were the only two people in the room, not giving a shit about the cast and crew around us.
When we finally broke for oxygen, I clasped her precious face in my palms. “Can you stay? If it were up to me, we’d walk out of here right now, but we have a few more hours of filming—”
“I can stay,” she assured me, leaning in to press another kiss to my mouth. “I missed you.”
“You have no idea,” I told her gruffly.
“Actually, I do.”
I laughed with self-deprecation. “The journals. Right.”
“I only read the most recent one. I don’t need to know every thought you’ve ever had, North. Some things should just belong to you. But it meant a lot that you trusted me with those.”
This woman.
I wanted to tell her I loved her right there and then, but not with everyone else around. Pressing my forehead to hers, I whispered, “Thank you.”
“Back at you, babe,” she whispered.
I forced myself not to jump all over her as soon as Blake wrapped for the day. It turned out Blake knew who Aria was because Wesley was the one who got her access to the set. I didn’t introduce her as my girlfriend because I wasn’t sure yet how she wanted to play this, but the kiss probably gave us away. Afterward, I escorted Aria to a restaurant for a bite to eat before taking her back to my place. The whole time, my blood thrummed hot with the prospect of getting her alone. It felt like I hadn’t touched her in so long.
We talked over dinner about how we’d make the long-distance thing work while I was filming because now that she wanted to be in a relationship with me, I was wary of any kind of distance between us. Aria seemed certain it was time she started taking back her personal life and not work weekends at the estate, which would free up time to fly out to see me. I wanted to pay for the flights, but she was adamant about paying her own way. Between her savings and trust fund, money was certainly no object for her. I imagined she was worth a lot more than I was.
I didn’t care.
None of it fucking mattered.
All I cared about was getting to see her any chance I could.
We’d make this work.
I’d fight like hell to make this work. And I was starting to believe that Aria would too.
All my thoughts of making leisurely love to her went out the window as soon as we got into my flat and my woman jumped me. Aria pulled at my clothes, her kisses desperate and hot, and I couldn’t have denied her even if I wanted to.
Our clothes scattered through my living space and into my bedroom like a trail of bread crumbs until we were naked and she was riding me like an Amazonian queen, taking what she fucking wanted.
By the time I returned to the bedroom after disposing of the condom, Aria sat up against the pillow, one long leg bent at the knee, her arms flung over her head, olive cheeks dewy from our lovemaking. Her eyes met mine, and she didn’t rush to cover her body. Instead, her gaze invited me to look my fill. She trusted I wanted her. That I found every inch of her spectacular. It made me feel good to make her feel good about herself. God, I loved her.
Blood rushed to my cock, and her eyes lowered as my semi went full mast. “I could stare at you all fucking day, woman.”
She gave me a sultry smile, and I suddenly knew this was who Aria had been before Preston and Lucas got in her head. Confident, sexy, sexual. She’d found her way back. “You too.”