Damian turned the empty glass in his hand and watched the lights from the city play on the walls of the suite. He’d long since given up pacing the room, stepping around the shattered pieces of his laptop as he obsessed over everything that had been said between him and Aira, over everything she must be feeling.

She’d been gone for more than two hours. Two hours in which he’d replayed every moment without her while she’d been in Greece. Two hours in which he forced himself to imagine the unimaginable possibility of her leaving him for the lie he’d told.

Then there was the issue of her safety; he would have gone mad thinking about her on the dark, cold streets of the city if it hadn’t been for Cole.

Knowing his second-in-command was out there was the only thing that gave him solace. Maybe Aria was right about not being followed after her meeting with Primo, but if she wasn’t, Damian knew Cole would defend her with his life if necessary.

He was contemplating texting Cole for an update when the door opened. He forced himself to stay seated as Aria walked into the room. It wasn’t easy. He wanted to go to her, fold her in his arms, apologize for the lie he’d told to protect her.

But he’d said everything he had to say, had made his case for his actions. He wouldn’t beg.

Not even for Aria.

The rest was up to her.

He watched as she set the key card down on the console table and entered the room, arms crossed over her chest. She paused at the threshold of the living area, her eyes seeking his across the darkened room. The moment stretched long and thin before she started toward him.

He almost held his breath as she came toward him, paused standing over him. He could smell the city — cold and damp — on her clothes. He was surprised when a moment later, she lowered herself onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned her head on his shoulder.

He kept his arms at his sides, forcing himself not to touch her. The next move would be hers.

It came a moment later when she spoke.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry for contacting Primo, for meeting him without talking to you, for leaving tonight and making you worry.”

He let his arms slide around her waist. “I wasn’t worried,” he said. “I had Cole follow you.”

There would be no more secrets between them.

“I figured,” she said, her head still on his chest.

The chuckle rose unbidden through his chest and he tightened his grip on her. He had a feeling this woman would never stop surprising him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked.

“Because I know why you did it, why you do all the things you do.”

“Tell me.” He wanted to hear her say it.

“Because you’re trying to protect me,” she said.

“That’s not right,” he said. “Or it’s not all of it anyway.”

She lifted her head to look at him. Her hair was damp around her elfin face, her full lips inches away and begging to be kissed. “It’s not?”

He shook his head, slid his hands into the hair at the back of her head, cupped her face.

“I fucking love you, Aria. Don’t you know?” It hurt to say the words, to admit it aloud. It meant letting go once and for all of the barricade he’d built around his heart, the barricade that had been the truest friend he’d had since his mother died. “Tell me you know.”

“I know.” She touched her lips gently to his. “Do you?”

He knew what she was asking, knew she was admitting to loving him in return. Admitting that she was as broken and scarred as he was.

It didn’t matter. They would make each other whole.

He returned her kiss, took his time opening her mouth with his tongue, tried to pour everything he felt for her, everything she made him feel, into the press of his lips on hers.

“I know,” he said, touching his lips to the corners of her mouth, along her jaw, on her closed eyelids. He wanted to leave his kisses like blessings on every inch of her skin. “I know.”

She ran her hands down his chest, back up to his neck, took his face in her hands. “I choose you,” she said. “I should have told you a long time ago.”

“Lucky you,” he said, looking into her dark eyes. “I never had a choice.”

The choice had been made from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. Their love had been written the stars long before they’d ever crossed paths. He knew that now.

Her rigid nipples grazed his chest as she pressed against him, the heat from her pussy sinking into his cock under her lap.

“I don’t want to forget anymore,” she said, touching her lips to the corners of his mouth, tugging his lower lip between her teeth. “I want to remember everything — who I am underneath everything I thought I was, who I’m meant to be, who we’ll be together.” She slid her tongue into his mouth, her movements languid and sensual. She pulled away enough just to speak against his lips. “Help me remember now, Damian.”

He groaned and reached for the hem of her shirt, peeling it off her skin while she continued kissing him, breaking the kiss only long enough for him to pull it over her head, waiting while she did the same with his.

Her skin was still cool from the Paris night. It was an erotic foil to the heat of his own, already on fire with her proximity, with the promise of her naked body against his.

She shifted to straddle him in the chair and he reached for her bra, undid the clasp, slid the lacy garment off her shoulders. Her breasts were taut and full, the nipples hard and pointed.

He wrapped his hands around her back, lowered his mouth to one of the little buds and locked his lips around it, his cock jumping as the fleshy mound filled his mouth, the nipple hard against his tongue.

She sighed and arched as he sucked, his palms covering her slender back, pressing her against his mouth.

His cock was nestled into the cleft between her legs, hot even through her jeans. She moved against him, her hips finding a rhythm too much like fucking him to be anything but a nearly unbearable combination of torture and bliss.

He groaned against her breast, fingering the one he’d just sucked while he gave equal attention to the other one. He was barely aware of her hand sliding between their bodies, the manipulations of her fingers as she undid his pants.

Then her hand was wrapping around his cock and he was aware of nothing but the silken stroke of her palm. She was so close, her hot pussy inches from his now exposed cock, separated from him only by the fabric of her pants. He knew exactly what it would feel like to slide slowly into her heat, inch by inch, the knowledge enough to make his cock grow thicker and harder in her hand.

He kissed his way up her chest, stopping at his favorite part of her neck, letting his tongue dip into the tender well of her collarbone as she stroked him, her hips moving in rhythm to the stroking of her hand.

He continued to her mouth, plunging his tongue into hers, mimicking the motion he would make when he drove his shaft into the wet heat of her pussy.

“I need to taste you,” he said, making his way along her jaw with his lips. “I want to feel you come against my mouth.”

She surprised him by scooting off his lap and sliding to the floor at his feet. Her eyes were pools of dark fire as she looked up at him from between his legs.

“Not this time, Damian. I’m going to be in control for once.”

He let his head fall back against the chair, the lights of Paris casting a kaleidoscope of color on the walls as she peeled his pants off his legs and situated her warm body between his thighs.