Page 98 of Worth Every Risk

“I don’t deserve you. I know that. I don’t want to marry you. I don’t want to marry anyone, ever again, because marriage is a bullshit load of paperwork and heartache that made my life a whole lot worse. But I should never have shouted at you. Never. You’re the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. I can’t believe you exist at all, let alone that you might want to be with me. I’m pinching myself the whole fucking time. And I really like having sex with you too. I really fucking love it. But it’s not just sex. I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry.” He cups a hand over his mouth, but there’s a hesitancy in his gaze, like he thinks he might not win me over this time.

“I knew from that first night that this was something more, and it scared the shit out of me. It still does. I love how you call me on all my bullshit, always asking the hard questions, pushing me to places I'd otherwise refuse to go.” He takes a long, shuddering breath, before he speaks again.

“I want to be better than this, Aries. I want to be better, for you, so we can see how far this thing between us can run. We can tell the kids about us at the end of the summer, if that’s whatyou want. You can fucking resign and I’ll get a new nanny. We’ll tell the kids in October. Let’s just wait until then, okay? First of October. We’ll break it to them then.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say ‘if we last that long’, but I don’t want to ruin the moment, because I have the most devastatingly handsome man in the world on his knees for me, and I’m savouring it for as long as I can.

“I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,” he continues. “If this is as far as we go, then I’ll thank God for every second I had you in my life, and I’ll walk away. I want you to know that I’m sorry. And I swear, I will never raise my voice to you again. Even if you never fucking listen to me and you ignore every rule I’ve put in place.”

I laugh, sniffling a little, wiping my nose on the back of my hand. I don’t know if I’m crying or my nose is running or what. “You’re allowed to be angry. But it’s the way you handle it that matters.”

Matt’s lips tip up, a little tension leaving his shoulders. “Do you forgive me?”

I do an exaggerated eye-roll. Of course I forgive him, but I’ll make him wait for it. Just a wee bit longer.

From his knees, voice church-sermon serious, he says, “If you don’t, how can we have more of that great sex we’ve been having?”

I laugh. “How could I not forgive you? Ireallylike having sex with you. More than with anyone else,ever. And you’re on your knees on the beach.”And I think I love you, you grumpy bastard.

He smiles. “So that’s a yes? Because there are stones down here. It’s killing my patellas.”

“Get up, you idiot.”

He stands up, holding both my hands in his. “Thank fuck, because I…” His voice drops away, like whatever he was going to say plunged off a cliff.

My heart hammers. “Because you?”

“Like you. I like you.”

“God, you are just so English. Save me from your stuffy English charm.” A smile pulls at my lips against my will, and Matt’s eyes light up as he notices. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I say, referencing his obvious relief. “We need to add to the list of things you can’t do.”

He squeezes my hands in his, his eyes bright and eager to please. “Okay.”

“You can’t swear at me, or shout unreasonably. Oh, and you need to move me into a bigger bedroom.”

He chuckles. “That’s in hand. All your things will be moved by the crew by the time we get back on board.”

“And the rest?”

“I’ll try. I have a bad temper. It’s stress. It’s—”

“It’s you. Don’t make excuses. Those are your emotions. Don’t throw them at me unless it’s really warranted. Unless it’s reallymethat’s made you angry. No random swearing because you’re frustrated by your son or your brothers or whatever. If it’s because I’ve done something wrong, I’ll take it. But otherwise, no. It’s not acceptable.”

Charlie pops into my mind, pleading with me not to tell his dad about his bruises.Do I even have a right to demand this of Matt, when I’m concealing things from him about his son’s welfare?

“Okay,” he says, and I believe he means it. His heated gaze strays from my eyes to my lips. “Can I kiss you now?” He looks at the time on his watch. “It’s been at least five hours and that’s far too long.”

He leans in, and I put one hand to his hard, firm chest, holding him off. “October first?”

He gives a lop-sided smile, and he looks so handsome that longing shoots straight through my belly. “October first,” he agrees. “It’s a date.”

And then his lips are on me, and everything around me blurs as I lose myself in his kiss.

28

MATT

The holiday was a great success. Ten days of heat and sun and the sea, and sweltering afternoons and ice cream and balmy evenings. And the kids, laughing. Even Charlie loosened up by the last few days.

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