Page 102 of Savage Obsession

“Here.” I reach the ornate box from the bedside cabinet and pass it to her. She helps herself to a handful of tissues and cleans herself up as best she can. “I must look a mess.”

“You look magnificent.”

She responds with an unladylike snort. “Yeah, right.” She makes a few more dabs at her face. “Did you mean it? What you said?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand. You never said it before…”

“I should have.”

“But, why now?”

“I thought I’d lost you.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d even care. Oh yes, you’d care about Lily, but once she was safe…”

“I love you,” I repeat, for the avoidance of doubt, and just because I like the taste of the words on my lips. “I’ve been an idiot. I wouldn’t blame you if you?—”

“I didn’t mean it. What I said.”

“Julia?”

“I don’t hate you. I never hated you, I never could.”

My lip quirks. “That’s a relief. I thought I might need to spend months, years, even, convincing you to give me another chance.”

“You convinced me of that when you came to Poland, to help me find Lily.”

“You knew I would.”

“Did I?” She hesitates, then, “Maybe I did. Or, I hoped, perhaps… So, what now? Where do we go from here?” The blanket drops from one slender shoulder, revealing a tantalising vision of one creamy breast.

“My vote would be we stay right where we are, for the next little while, at least.”

“What about Lily?”

“She’s in safe hands.” I cup her chin. “I love you, Julia Bartosz. I need you. I want you.”

“I don’t think…”

I release her. What the fuck was I thinking, pawing at her like some sort of animal, insensitive brute that I am? “I’m sorry. It’s too soon.”

“I meant, I don’t think I can manage to lie down,” she adds with a smile. “I’ll need to be on top.”

CHAPTER 25

Julia

If there was an Olympic medal for getting rid of your clothes fast, Baz would win it. Solid gold. His shirt and trousers join my discarded clothes on the floor. He kicks the heap to one side, losing his shoes at the same time, and peels off his shorts.

I watch the display with interest. My husband was always a fine man, ridiculously handsome, but never more so than at this moment. Chiselled pectorals, washboard abdomen, his rugged good looks accentuated by two days of stubble. His dark ebony-coloured hair has grown out since he moved to Tenerife, lending him a less austere appearance that’s further heightened by his dazzling smile as he approaches the bed.

My gaze drops to take in his cock, standing proud and solid, ready for me.

“Were you always so attractive?” I whisper.

“Were you always so beautiful?” His hands frame my face, the tip of his nose brushing mine. “I love you, Julia mine. I never stopped loving you, but I lost sight of it for a while. I’m an idiot.”

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