Page 122 of Strange Seduction
She swallowed, eyes shining but no tears spilling. “You don’t have to convince me. I see it. I feel it every day.”
“I don’t want to go back to life before you.”
She pressed her forehead to mine, closing the distance until her breath was mixing with mine again.
“I don’t want to either.”
I kissed her slowly and deliberately.
She’d already rewired something inside me, and no matter what city we were in next week, I wouldn’t be the same man.
When we broke apart, her voice was even softer than before.
“We still have time.”
I nodded. “Then let’s not waste a second of it.”
She curled back into me, her spine fitting the length of my chest like we’d been designed to sleep this way.
I wrapped my arm around her and held her there.
“Jayda left Tyler,” she murmured.
“I know.”
“Should we do something?”
I hesitated, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Nope,” I said finally. “Not this time.”
Because I’d learned my lesson.
I’d gotten involved once—too involved—when Kassandra’s marriage started to fall apart. She told me she was flying out to see me in Italy, said she needed a break, some time to clear her head. I believed her. I thought I was helping when I called herhusband to check in on my niece, just to make sure she was okay while Kass was with me.
Only… she wasn’t with me. Never had been.
And my call tipped everything over.
Her husband found out she’d lied and was actually with another man. That made him hire a lawyer the next day, and file for divorce by the end of the week. Whatever mess they were in before, I made it worse. Kassandra still doesn’t talk to me about it.
So no, I wasn’t about to interfere in Jayda and Tyler’s situation. Not when I knew just how badly good intentions could blow back.
Her breathing slowed, syncing with mine, and I almost let myself drift until a phone buzzed softly on the coffee table. It was hers.
She reached for it, her fingers trembling slightly, and I watched as she answered, her voice soft and careful.
“Hola, Papi,” she said quietly, slipping into a half-sitting position.
I shifted behind her, resting my chin against her shoulder as she held the phone up to her ear.
“Hola, mija. ¿Cómo estás?” He answered weakly. The sound of his voice made me frown slightly. From the pictures I remember Carmen showing me, he was so underweight, pale, but in good spirits. I prayed for a speedy recovery.
“Estoy bien,” she said. “¿Y tú?”
He sighed. “Más o menos.Tired. But…bien. Es un día bueno.”
She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“You sound tired,” she said, switching to English. “You been eating?”
