Page 140 of One Wealthy Wedding

“Holy shit,” she pants. “Holy shit, Theo.”

I flop onto the lounger next to her, my heart thumping, my breath sawing in and out.

“I know.” I pull her into my side. “I know.”

42

Cat

I’m drifting in the afterglow while Theo strokes my arm lazily. The sun is bright even through my closed lids, and the heat is perfect.

“That was good,” I say dreamily. “Why haven’t we been doing that the whole time?”

“Because we swore we wouldn’t,” Theo says. “Or did you forget?”

I wave a hand in the air. “We were fools.”

Theo snorts.

“I’m glad we waited,” he says softly, after a minute of silence.

I lever myself up on one elbow so I can see his face. He’s relaxed and boyishly handsome like this, his hair mussed, his eyes half-shut.

“You are?”

“My track record isn’t the best,” he says dryly. “You deserve more than a drunk fuck with the lights off.”

“I wouldn’t have minded that.” I’m not sure that’s the truth, if I’m being perfectly honest with myself.

“Yeah, well, I would have.” He pushes off the lounger and stalks to the bow. He’s magnificent in his nakedness, proud and masculine—long lines, lean hips, those divots at his back before the curve of his butt.

“Are you okay?”

“I hate that the spectre of every other woman is in bed with us,” he says, turning to me with burning eyes. “Don’t say you haven’t thought about it.”

“Well, you are the perfect man to help with the list,” I say lightly.

He shuts his eyes briefly. “I hate that.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” I frown. “I’ve never resented you for enjoying yourself. It would be pretty hypocritical of me, since I created a bucket list of sex items. Besides, you could have a relationship if you wanted to.”

He snorts disbelievingly. Realization crawls through me, ugly and black. “You don’t think you could.”

“I never have before.” His gaze is stark. “Every woman who’s slept with me has walked away.”

Theo’s told me this before, but I didn’t realize how much it affected him. The look in his eyes looks a hell of a lot like self-loathing.

“Is that why you only do one night stands? Push people away before they can push you away?”

“It’s not a rule. Not like Jonah had. But sure, if you want to get psychoanalytical about it.” He shrugs. “There’s something broken in me. Some piece missing. I’m not a settling down kind of guy.” He looks back out over the railing, his profile lonely and stark against the blue water and the bright blue sky.

I stand. Theo’s been trying to fill that missing piece with wild nights for years. I slip my arms around his stomach, press my cheek to the sun-warmed skin of his back, my palms close to his heart and his lungs, right over the essence of this man who is so much more than he realizes.

“Nothing is broken,” I tell him.

I feel his hard swallow under my cheek. “Feels like it is.”

“I think you might surprise yourself,” I say. “You have hidden depths. I’ve seen them.”

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