“Do you?” I ask, unwilling to be the bad guy. “You work more hours than I do.”
“But I would make time for this, Sylvia. I would give up everything else before surrendering this.” He’s so adamant that I believe him. “It’s about priorities.”
Is the danger of Mike his ability to make me believe that everything is possible?
Just the idea of reaching for something I want, without any guarantees, chills me and I shiver. He grabs another of Merrie’s towels and wraps it around my shoulders, his brows drawn together, then braces his hands on the wall on either side of my shoulders.
“Just sex is what you want. Fair enough.” I open my mouthto argue, but I get another bone-melting kiss instead. When Mike lifts his head, his eyes are so very blue that I could drown in them. “But here’s what I want, just for the record. I want to be with you. I want a future, not just a past or even a present. I want to start over, with you, and make it work this time.”
“I’m not sure,” I say and he smiles sadly.
“I know. And I don’t want to be together unless you are. So, you tell me what you want and when you want it, and we’ll work from there.”
“And you?”
He doesn’t answer the question. “Tell me, Sylvia.”
What do I want? I want to be that girl again, the one who believed in fairy tales and forever. I want the crack in my heart to mend. I want to trust him as completely as I did a long time ago. I want to make love like this all the time, every day and every night.
I want it all and I want it from him.
But I’m afraid. Afraid to trust the man who hurt me so badly. Afraid to lose Sierra. Afraid to lose whatever dignity I still have. But that’s not even the worst of it.
I’m afraid that when Mike has to choose, he’ll choose the Cavendishes. He’ll choose the family he was born into, not any family he’s created himself. Patrick Cavendish himself explained it to me and even though I know that Mr. Cavendish is toxic, his words haven’t faded away.
Mike will have to choose one day. His father will make sure of it. I hate his father, because I remember every cruel word he said to me. But his loyal son would never believe me if I told him, and that hurts so much.
I look down at the floor, unable to confess any of that aloud, even when Mike gives me a long steady look.
“It could just be like this,” I say finally and he shakes his head hard before I hear Merrieon the stairs.
Mike hears her, too, because he claims a towel and wraps it around his waist before she appears in the doorway.
Her gaze flicks over him and she pouts, just a little, then she looks at me. “I thought I made it understood that I was to be invited to all orgies.”
“Just the two of us. Not much of a crowd,” Mike says briskly.
She eyes him again, probably noticing his tone. “I’ve got to buy smaller towels.”
He ignores her comment and gestures to the room. “We tried to not make a mess.”
Mike could be a different man than the one who made love to me just moments ago. He’s composed and efficient. Businesslike. I know it’s my fault, but maybe it’s safer this way.
Maybe I’m safer this way, with temptation removed.
“And you didn’t. No noise either.” Merrie sighs as if disappointed but no one smiles. “If you’re hungry, there’s a pair of chickens roasting. Test recipe, to see if I can make them more appealing. I’d appreciate any and all feedback.”
I look at Mike but he’s avoiding my gaze.
“Not tonight. Thanks, Merrie, but I’ll head home.” He barely glances at me before he leaves, every line of his body resolute. He strides back to my studio, clearly in a hurry to get on his way. I know I’ve said the wrong things, but I won’t say the right things just for the sake of convenience.
Merrie folds her arms across her chest and gives me one of her Inquisition looks.
“You heard enough,” I say quietly and she shakes her head. We both look up at the sound of Mike’s keys.
“If you’re going to change your mind, do it soon, Sylvia. Don’t count on him waiting.”
I’m not.
