Page 134 of Worth Every Risk

Matt stays with me all night, cradling me in his arms, stroking my hair. And in the morning, we make love. Slow and passionate, and with each kiss, with each deliberate thrust of him into me, I feel my broken heart begin to heal. Afterwards, in the shower, I close my eyes and tell my mother I’m going to be all right, because there’s someone holding my hand now.

And then, even through the thrumming of the hot water around me, I swear I hear her whisper, ‘I know’.

EPILOGUE

“Iam not wearing a kilt. Absolutely not.” Matt is standing in the middle of the bedroom, looking devastatingly handsome in his black-tie suit. “It’s too fucking cold outside. I think it’s going to snow tonight.”

“Please?” I hold out the kilt, waggling the hanger. “You’d look so good. Get your legs out. Take your boxers off.”

He shakes his head, lips tightly closed, but his eyes are laughing. “No. Plus Nico wouldn’t be happy if I showed up to his engagement drinks wearing that. I’d upstage him. This is their night, not ours.”

“Fine. Maybe we can use it for dress up, later,” I say, throwing it down onto Matt’s huge bed; the big bed where I now sleep every night, snuggled up next to him after we’ve come so hard and so frequently we’ve exhausted ourselves.

Matt eyes the kilt sceptically. “That doesn’t even look like it would fit. Where did you get it?”

“A charity shop on Earl’s Court Road.”

He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got to get rid of it. It probably has moths. It’ll destroy my suits. My cashmere.”

I begin to laugh.

“I’m serious.” He grabs it from the bed and I laugh harder, wiping tears from my eyes. “Not on the fucking sheets,” he adds, marching the undesirable item into the bathroom where I hear him throw it in the bin.

He comes out slapping his hands, looking delighted with himself.

“You know I’m getting that out later,” I say. “I’ll wash it. But there is no way I’m not getting you into a kilt one day.”

“I’m not Scottish.”

“So?”

He shakes his head at me, his gorgeous mouth splitting to reveal perfect teeth. The motion slows as he appraises me, his gaze scooping upwards from my feet, lingering at my hips, my breasts, my lips, until finally he meets my gaze. I’m tingling everywhere. It’s amazing that even after all these months, he still has this effect without laying a finger on me.

I brush a hand down my green silk evening dress, the fingers of my other hand tangling in my hair, which is all blow-dried and perfect. I’m probably messing up the effect—it’s different… good, even. I’m normally in jeans and a t-shirt, my hair tucked up in a messy bun, so this evening’s attire is a huge change, and from the look on Matt’s face I can tell he appreciates the effort.

He paces towards me, sliding his hands to my hips. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“You too.”

He rolls his eyes. “What every man wants to hear.”

“Shut up.”

He kisses me, slowly, like he wants to experience every second of it fully. I melt in his arms, my body liquefying beneath his touch.

“Do we have time—”

“No.” He cuts me off, and we stare at one another for a few heated seconds. “Fuck,” he groans, shaking his head as though not taking me here and now, in all my evening finery, is a very difficult choice to make. “I don’t want to ruin your hair.”

I laugh, lightly tapping his arm as I move towards the door so we can head out, but he grabs my hand and spins me back into his embrace. “I love you,” he says, his voice deep and sincere. “So, so much.”

Every time he says it, I feel like a field of blossoming flowers as new parts of me open up. “I love you too.”

“Daddy? Ariel?” Lucie’s excited voice comes from outside the bedroom.

We share a glance, knowing that if we let her in, the chance of any fooling around slides to zero. Matt sighs, and I grant him a conciliatory smile as I ease out of his arms to open the door.

Lucie’s mouth falls open as she takes me in. “You look like a real mermaid.” She turns to Matt. “Oh, Daddy. She’s the most beautiful lady in all the whole world.”

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