Page 23 of Unconditionally With Me
“And it’s only just beginning,” he promises as he takes a quick bite himself.
Chapter 9
~Julian~
Elle’s calling, “Bye!” to our driver, who’s beaming at her like she’s just plucked the winning lottery numbers from the evening sky instead of handing him a to-go order of the meal he mentioned being his favorite. But I recognize there’s something different about her here as she spins around in a circle before she dances into my arms, laughter ringing out. “Tonight was wonderful, Jules.”
“That it was.” I can’t stop myself from leaning down to capture her lips, to drink of the essence that’s bubbling up from inside her. I taste the spicy meal we shared and the exoticness that is pure Elle.
But even as I pull back, she leaps into my arms and wraps her legs around my waist, forgetting her earlier worries about staying at the Fairmont. She wraps her arms around my neck and demands, “Carry on.”
“Is that literally or figuratively?”
“Take your pick, love.”
Boosting her higher, I stride for the opening of the door, ignoring the pointed stares we’re receiving. I’m enjoying vacation Elle. “We should have done this years ago,” I proclaim as I push the button for the elevator to take us to our room.
Her eyes dart around before she leans forward and whispers wickedly, “If you’ll remember, we did. In the elevator of my apartment.”
I groan. “How could I ever forget? You ruined me for anyone else.” Ever.
She lifts herself, rubbing lightly against me. Damn, she’ll pay for that sweet move when we’re behind the closed doors of our room. Then her playful expression fades. Her legs drop to the floor, but her body presses even closer to mine. Her eyes flash with fear before love chases it away. “And that was the night I knew my love for you was unconditional, Julian. My body, my heart, my soul? They were all yours.”
Just then the doors open behind us. I back her into the elevator, before selecting our floor. When I face her again, there’s a serenity encapsulating her, replacing the siren.
Will I ever know all the sides of Elle? Do I need to for me to know there will never be another woman who can compare with her? No. I don’t. The weight of the item I have in my jacket pocket weighs heavily on my mind.
Tonight. Otherwise, I’m never going to feel relief from the terror encasing my heart.
But by the time we navigate our way back to our room, Elle’s exuberance has faded. She’s yawning in between every word. “Is.”Yawn. “It.”Yawn.“The.”Yawn.“Wine?”
“Maybe. Or the jet lag.” I strip her cardigan off her shoulders, leaving her in a flimsy maxi dress and boots. With a wry smile, I tuck away my fantasy of making love to her in just her boots for another night.
Her eyes, highlighted by the deepening shadows beneath them, widen a fraction. “We just flew in this afternoon!”
“And it’s close to 2:00 a.m. New York time.”
“Why aren’t you tired?” Elle grumbles. She hops on one foot to yank off a boot, then, after flinging it across the room, does the same with the other.
God, I want a lifetime of nights just like this—her getting ready for bed when she’s so sleepy she can barely see. The urge to force the issue while she’s so drowsy she can hardly think rides me hard, but that’s not right. I want Elle functioning if she gives me the answer I need.
Stripping off my jacket, I carefully hang it in the closet, before removing my shirt, for which she immediately holds out her hand. My lips quirk as she drops her dress where she stands and pulls on my shirt to wrap herself in to sleep. Dropping my slacks, I toe off my shoes and yank back the covers.
Elle immediately face-plants onto the bed. She pats the space next to her invitingly.
I don’t refuse such a perfect invitation.
Crawling in next to her, I press a kiss to her pouty lips before the soft sounds she makes when she settles. Not long after, I follow her escape into dreamland.
Then again, maybe this whole trip is that—an escape.
* * *
The next morning,we wake up in each other’s arms. After making slow, languid love to one another, Elle presses her body against mine before asking, “What do you want to do today?”
I hate to rain on her parade, but, “Shouldn’t you contact the lawyer to see when he can fit us in?”
She makes a face down at me. “Did you wake up with your practical chip turned on high? I was thinking along the line of breakfast.”
