Page 102 of Driving Him Wild

We Mortimers have an addiction problem.

Yours is emotional addiction.

Wean yourself off it or you’ll be nothing but a disappointment.

You already are to me, and I suspect to your brothers.

I’m not coming back, Graciela.

One day you’ll see it’s for the best. You might even thank me for it.

I held it out to him. ‘Do you want to read it?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t need to. Whatever it says in there, it’s not true. Very soon, you’ll

believe it too.’

With quick strides, he went into the kitchen and returned with a large ceramic bowl and a box of

matches. Heart in my throat, I dropped the paper into the bowl. He handed me the matches, and when

my fingers shook too badly, he cupped my hand, steadied me.

When I struck it, he released me.

I held the flame to one corner of the paper, my heart in my throat as it immediately caught fire. In less than a minute it was gone.

He gently cupped my face, dropped a reverent kiss on my lips before catching me in his arms once

more. I refused to look into the bowl.

Couldn’t mourn a mother I’d never really had.

With each step away from the blackened remains of words that had weighed me down all my life,

the tightness in my chest eased, smothered hope breaking through the fog of doubt.

A clock chimed somewhere within the apartment as he walked us back into his bedroom. This time

he set me down next to the bed, his face lighting up in a smile.

‘It’s Christmas Day and I would very much love to unwrap you.’

My heart hammered hard enough to power up a small city, yet I still managed to raise my chin, to

stare him down despite our height difference.

‘I may just allow you to, but only if you address me the way you crave to.’

I’d bared myself to him, admitted that I wasn’t sure how capable I was of returning the feelings he craved from me. ButthisI could give him. He dropped to his knees, and I was awed all over again by how magnificently comfortable he was in that position. How magnificent he was, full stop.

With reverent hands, he took my clothes off and then, at my nod, he undressed himself, pulled back

the coverlet and helped me into bed.

Sliding between my thighs, he wrapped his arms around me. ‘Jeg elsker dig.I love you.’ He dropped a long kiss on my lips. ‘Merry Christmas, my heart.Min elskerinde.’

‘Merry Christmas, Jensen.’

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