Page 81 of Everything We Left Behind

His gaze catches hers. “I know.”

They watch each other for a moment until Natalya’s attention dips to a spot on the teakwood floor. She undoes the bun, and damp hair spills over her shoulder. James sucks in a quiet breath at her natural beauty.

“Do you miss her?” There’s a hitch in her voice.

“Yes.”

“Do you still love her?”

He nods.

Natalya rolls her lips inward and stares at her glossy coral toenails. “How was your talk with Julian?”

He blinks at the subject change. He wants to tell her Aimee had let him go, that she moved on, and that every day, every single waking moment, he’s trying to do the same. To build a new life from the rubble of his previous life. But now is probably not the best time. He’s still working through his emotions.

“We had a good talk. He got a lot off his chest. We both did.”

Natalya twists her hair. Her hands shake and her lips pull into a contorted smile. “Okay, then ... um ... I guess you’ve got everything under control with the boys, after all.” She angles her head at the door. “Unless you need to use your room right now, I have some work to do.” She turns to leave.

James frowns, not at all liking her mood change.

“Oh.” She snaps her fingers, stopping in the doorway. “I saw the steaks you picked up. I can help with dinner, unless you’ve got that under control, too.”

“I’d like your help,” he says, standing. He takes two steps toward her. “Natalya, what’s wrong?”

Her lower lip quivers and she raises a hand, stopping him. “I have to get to work,” she whispers harshly before leaving.

He hears the thump of her feet bounding down the hall, then the slide of the glass door opening to the lanai. She hadn’t gone to the office where he’d slept last night. Instead, she raced outside and away from him.

CHAPTER 24

CARLOS

Three Years Ago

July 11

Puerto Escondido, Mexico

The sky was a patchy blue. Outside, shadows came and went, while inside, the interior light held an even brightness throughout the studio. Perfect for mixing colors. I added cerulean blue and emerald green to my palette and mixed the two colors with a touch of titanium white to soften the tone. I inhaled deeply. Pigment fumes, a pungent blend of octane, damp earth, and magnolia flowers, filled my sinuses. The odor sent a rush through my head.

Painter’s high,I thought, smirking.

The color wasn’t exactly right, so I added a fingernail size of cerulean blue. A satisfied warmth moved over me as I watched the color blend into the hue I’d set out to achieve.

Slender hands curved around my waist, glided up my ribs to my chest. Long, delicate fingers undid a button, and then another. They dived under the edge of my shirt and caressed my skin. My heart pounded under those wandering fingers. Blood pulsed to my center and my breath left in an abbreviated rush. I groaned.

Lips pressed between my shoulder blades. The heat of her breath warm through my shirt. I turned in her arms and looked down into a set of eyes that matched the color on my palette.

“Aimee.”

“Kiss me,” she asked, and I did.

She finished unbuttoning my shirt and I unzipped her dress. Clothes fell to the floor and we followed. I rolled onto my back, pulling her on top. She kissed her way down my chest, tracing the hairline past my navel. My head fell back and eyes closed.God, her mouth feels so damn good.

That was all I could think, all I could feel. And I wanted to watch.

Lifting my head, I opened my eyes. Aimee was gone and I was no longer in the studio at our house.

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