Page 181 of Knot Happening Again

"Would you like to see your new place?" I ask softly, not wanting to break the spell of the moment but eager to show her the home I've prepared for her.

She nods, a mix of excitement and nervousness in her eyes. "Lead the way."

Hand in hand, we make our way down the cobblestone streets. The city is quieter now, most of its inhabitants tucked away for the night. Our footsteps echo off the ancient buildings, and I can't help but imagine a life here with Ophelia. Lazy Sunday mornings in bed, exploring the city's hidden treasures, making love on the balcony as the sun sets...

I shake my head, forcing myself back to the present.

One step at a time, Leon.

We round a corner, and there it is—a beautiful townhouse overlooking the canal. I fish the keys out of my pocket, holding them out to Ophelia.

"It's yours," I say softly. "If you want it."

She takes the keys, turning them over in her hand. For a moment, I think she might cry. But then she's moving, pressing me back against the door, her lips finding mine in a searing kiss.

I groan, my hands settling on her hips as I pull her closer. The keys clatter to the ground, forgotten.

"Don't you want the tour first?" I ask when we come up for air, my voice rough with desire.

Ophelia's eyes are dark, hungry. "Bedroom," she growls. "Now."

A thrill runs through me at her command. I snatch the keys off the ground and then scoop her up in my arms. She lets out a surprised squeak, her arms wrapping around my neck.

"Your wish is my command," I murmur, fumbling with the lock.

The door swings open, and I carry Ophelia over the threshold. The house is beautiful—all high ceilings and classic French architecture—but I barely notice as I navigate the stairs, too focused on the woman in my arms.

I find the master bedroom easily enough, kicking the door open with perhaps a bit more force than necessary. Ophelia giggles at my eagerness, the sound sending a jolt of heat straight to my core.

"Careful, I'll have to invoice you for that," she teases, her arms draped around my neck.

"Worth it," I tell her.

I set her down gently on the bed, taking a moment to drink in the sight of her. Her hair is mussed, lips swollen from our kisses. Her dress has ridden up, revealing a tantalizing expanse of creamy thigh.

"You're beautiful," I breathe, unable to keep the awe from my voice.

Ophelia reaches for me, pulling me down onto the bed with her. "Show me," she whispers against my lips.

I don't need to be told twice. My hands roam her body, relearning every curve, every dip. I unzip her dress slowly, savoring each inch of skin revealed.

As I slide the garment off her shoulders, I pause, overcome with emotion. This is really happening. After all these years, all the pain and regret, Ophelia is here in my arms again.

"Leon?" Her voice is soft, questioning. "What's wrong?"

I shake my head, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. "Nothing's wrong," I murmur against her skin. "Everything's perfect. I just... I can't believe this is real. Thatyou'rereal. You don't know how many times you haven't been." When I see the way she's looking at me, I clarify. "How many times you've haunted mydreams. How many times I thought I saw your face in a crowd and chased you, thinking…" I trail off, shaking my head. "But it wasn't you. It never was."

Ophelia's gaze softens with understanding I don't deserve. Her hand comes up to cup my cheek, guiding my face to hers. The look in her eyes takes my breath away—there's desire there, yes, but also understanding.

Forgiveness.

Holy shit.

"It's real," she says softly. "I'm here.We'rehere."

I capture her lips in a tender kiss, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude I feel into it. She responds eagerly, her body arching into mine.

My hands slide down her sides, fingertips tracing the lace of her bra. "May I?" I ask, tugging gently at the fabric.

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