Page 33 of One Weekend in London

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I pop a bit of cobbler into my mouth, nearly coming undone at the explosion of butter, cinnamon, and juicy peach that rolls over my tongue. “Oh God. If this is what sin tastes like, then sign me up for a one-way ticket downstairs.”

Rhys’s eyes track the movement of my lips, making my belly flip. “Careful what you wish for. I might just be tempted to deliver.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?” I can scarcely recognize my own voice, laden with innuendo. For goodness only knows how many times, I’m so far out of familiar territory when it comes to this man. It’s just plain mind-boggling.

His grin is wicked. Knee-quaking. “Both.”

I take a sip of water, trying to cool the fever racing through my veins. It’s a losing battle. Rhys Kensington is a fever I can’t break.

And truly, I don’t think I ever want to.

“So tell me...” The semblance of composure I’ve gained isn’t much, but it’s something. “What’s your favorite dessert? And don’t say anything crude, or I swear I’ll push you overboard.”

He clutches his chest in feigned anguish. I like the possessive, dirty-talking side of him, that’s not even a question. But this playful side? I love it so much my heart feels as though it may burst.

“You wound me.” I know a mocking tone when I hear one. “As if I would ever stoop to such uncouth behavior.”

I shoot him a you-have-to-be-kidding-me look. “Uh-huh. Pull my other leg while you’re at it, handsome. It’s got bells on it after all.”

Again, he laughs, the sound rich and warm, snapping pieces of my broken heart back into place. “As you wish. I confess, I’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth. Always have, ever since I was a lad.”

Quickly standing, he leans across the table and steals a bite of my cobbler, then presses his lips to mine in a soft, lingering kiss that curls my toes, painfully so, before he sits back down, leaving me dumbfounded.

What in the world just happened?

“But I’ve got to say, I think I’ve just found a new favorite. Nothing else quite compares to the taste of sugar on your honeyed lips.”

I blush straight to the roots of my dark hair, my healing heart doing a giddy little flip in my chest. Honestly, it’s a wonder I haven’t self-combusted on the spot like I feared moments ago, on account of the way this man keeps stoking my flames.

“You,” I accuse breathlessly, “are an absolute menace.”

“Guilty as charged. But I suspect you like it.”

Heaven help me, I do.

In comfortable silence, we polish off the rest of the meal, the air between us crackling with anticipation. By the time we’re finished, I’m nearly vibrating out of my flushed skin, every nerve ending alight and attuned to the spellbinding man across from me.

The man who, with every word and touch, is steadily bursting through my fortified walls, even though I never thought such a thing would be possible, especially so quickly.

But it seems fate is hell-bent on proving me wrong.

CHAPTER 13

Sadie

Our plates now clean, Rhys rises.

A devilish glint sparkles in his eyes, making me shift in my seat as he extends his hand. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

More than a little intrigued, I let him pull me up and lead me to the bow of the yacht. The once-in-a-lifetime view is awe-inspiring, leaving me thunderstruck as I stare at London, in all its resplendent glory, stretching out before us, the iconic skyline a glittering jewel against the gray sky.

From where we sail down the Thames, I can see the Tower Bridge in the distance, its majestic towers reaching toward the heavens as the Tower of London stands sentinel, and the gleaming skyscrapers of Canary Wharf pierce the horizon.

Honestly, it’s like a postcard come to life.

“This is...” I struggle to find the words. “Holy crap, it’s breathtaking.”

“It is.” Rhys squeezes my hand, his warmth enveloping me. “Yet, once more, it pales in comparison to you.”

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