“I’m sorry.”
He reaches over and sets his palm on my thigh, the warmth from his hand sinking into my flesh. “Don’t be. I understand that this started off as us doing each other a favor, and now it’s turned into something very real. Take all the time you need, I’ll still be here when you’re ready.”
“Aren’t you scared?”
“No.”
“Not even if I don’t share your feelings?”
He puts his car in park in front of my building. “You feel the same way, I can see it in your eyes when you look at me. I’m a patient man, Mia. I’m not going anywhere while you take the time you need to figure it out.”
I’m a bit dazed while I watch him get out of the car and walk around to my door. He opens it while I fumble with the seatbelt. I take his hand and allow him to help me out of the seat.
The next thing I know, he’s closed the door and has his arm wrapped around my back. His fingers slide through the hair at the nape of my neck and tilt my head back until our eyes meet. My eyes drift down to his lips. I want him to kiss me.
And he does.
The second our lips collide, I feel the ground move beneath my feet. The tenderness with which he worships my mouth sends a seismic shockwave through my psyche. Every glide of his tongue against mine is a promise. He pulls my hair, gently angling my head for better access to my mouth. I whimper into the kiss as he nips my lip. The world bleeds into nothing but a kaleidoscope of color and sound around us until he breaks the kiss.
“Good night, Mia.”
“Good night,” I say, dazed.
I walk into the lobby and press the elevator call button. My lips still tingle from his, and as I turn to look out the lobby doors, I see him leaning back against his car, watching me. He gives me a little wave that I return. I step back onto the elevator, our eyes holding until the doors slide closed.
My mind spins with the events of the past few hours.
Ian Jameson wants me. Not just in his bed but in a relationship. Why is it so hard to wrap my head around that when I could fully understand us as a fake relationship?
I’m the same me who stood beside him in his living room among the members of his board. That made sense, though, but he and I in a real relationship feels like a fairytale. Our connection is deeper than physical, it’s intellectual and emotional. I’ve opened up more to him than I ever have to any other man.
The understanding that our relationship wasn’t real gave me a security blanket to be the most authentic version of myself. Maybe that’s what has me feeling so unsteady. He’s seen me for who I really am with my guards down. And he still wants me.
We’re so different, though. He’s wealthy beyond any measure I’m even capable of conceiving. It’s intimidating to think of joining that world when I’m from such a different world. It’s different for Nico in terms of being married to Stella, he earned a scholarship that put him in school with people of power. I went to a public school with metal detectors at every entrance.
I strip out of my clothes and stumble right into bed. Thoughts and questions wrestle in my restless mind until it begins to throb. I break down and grab two Advil PMs, succumbing to a deep, dreamless sleep.
“You look like shit,” Mason says as I walk into the gallery.
“Thanks, love,” I retort sarcastically. “Feel about as great as I look, too.”
“Are you ill?” Sylvia drops everything to come over and check on me.
“No. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”
“What’s going on?” Mason asks.
“I have a lot on my mind.” I set my purse inside the drawer at the front desk.
“Spill,” Sylvia drops her forearms on the counter. “Is it about Ian?”
“Yes.” She’s too observant for her own good.
Mason’s ears perk immediately. He’s nosey as fuck but always so supportive. “I’ll get us coffees.”
“I went out to dinner with him last night, under the impression it was a fake dinner date with someone he needs to impress from the board of directors.”
“Wait.” Mason holds up a hand after rejoining us. “Fake dinner date?”