“El,” I whimper.
“I know, baby.” He kisses me with his eyes closed. The emotion between us is palpable. A tangible force that we no longer control.
This is special. He is special.
Elliot Miles is everything I never knew I needed, and regardless of our differences I can’t deny it.
I am utterly and irrevocably in love with him.
ELLIOT
I lean on my elbow as I watch her sleep.
Her hair is splayed across the pillow as she lies on her side facing me, her bare breasts falling across her chest. I lean in and kiss her temple softly, the need to be closer to her almost primal.
We crossed a boundary tonight, broke through some kind of invisible barrier.
My heart is freefalling from my chest and I have no way of stopping it. Nor would I want to.
What’s happening?
I’ve never felt like this before.
There’s no border between us; the separation of the two of us is blurred. She’s like an extension of my body . . . only, in a better way.
She stirs and puts her hand out for me. “El,” she whispers.
“I’m here, baby,” I whisper as I snuggle in closer, put my head on her chest.
She smiles softly with her eyes closed and falls back to sleep.
In the darkness, in her arms, I listen to her heartbeat.
And I lose sight of mine.
“Good morning, girls,” I say as I walk through reception.
They look up from their tasks. “Good morning, Mr. Miles.”
Christopher is standing at his office door. “Hey.”
“Lovely day, isn’t it?” I smile.
He frowns. “Not really.”
“Oh.” I look out of the window and shrug. “Ah, but it’s not snowing, is it?”
“Who are you and what have you done with my grumpy prick of a brother?” Christopher replies dryly. “It’s like the fucking Sound of Music around here.”
The girls laugh and I walk into my office and unpack my computer as amusement fills me.
“What’s going on?” I look up to see Christopher watching me as he leans on the doorjamb.
“Nothing, why?”
“Well, you’re up, you’re down, furious, then quiet, you’re like a one-man fucking circus.”
I log into my computer. “A good night’s sleep is all we needed. I mean me,” I correct myself. “I slept well.”
He walks in, suddenly interested. “No, you said ‘we.’”
“I meant me.”
“No, you didn’t.” He sits on the side of my desk. “You’re seeing someone aren’t you?”
I type in my email login.
“Who is she?”
“None of your business. Get out.”
Knock, knock: I glance up to see Kate standing at the door.
Shit.
“Morning, Kathryn,” I say, my eyes roaming down to her toes and back up to her face. Her fair hair is down and tucked behind one ear and her smile instantly lights up the room. She’s wearing a black, fitted pencil skirt and a cream, silk blouse; her top button is undone with just a hint of what’s underneath—perfection.