Chapter 17

 

Ry’s dark gaze glittered with laughter. “What, you don’t want any witnesses?”

Claire couldn’t help laughing. “Okay, I didn’t realize you were into kink.”

He slipped a hand under the short skirt of her dress. “Well, not the first time, anyway. Maybe later.”

“Um, really?”

Okay, maybe a few games might be fun, but right now she just wanted his hands and mouth on her body, him moving deeply inside. She’d waited too long to play around, to pretend it was just for fun.

He pressed her gently against the counter, his hand brushing shivers up her thigh. “I’m kidding. Claire, I don’t need anything but you.” He huffed out a laugh that sounded strained. “I can barely hold myself back as it is.”

When his fingers reached the lacy trim of her panties, she slipped her hands up around his neck and then almost jumped a foot off the floor when Stanley thrust his head between their bodies.

“Dammit, I forgot about old Stan here.” Ry’s voice was equal parts exasperation and amusement. He grabbed the dog’s collar. “Sorry, bud, we love you but definitely don’t need your company tonight.”

He snagged a few biscuits from the dog cookie jar, and he and the dog disappeared into the pantry where she heard him murmur a few soft words to Stanley. He emerged a few seconds later and closed the door behind him.

“Think he’ll be okay?” She couldn’t help feeling a bit guilty.

“We’ll see if he starts howling. I gave him extra dog cookies and put two of his chew toys in there.”

“Good. He should be fine, then.”

“He’d better be, because I am definitely not letting him out for the next hour or two.”

His dark, sexy tone sent her stomach into a lovely dive.

At least she thought it was lovely. During the time it had taken to put Stanley away, her nerves had started to spiral again.

Shut up, nerves.

His long strides ate up the space between them, and his hot gaze stripped the clothes from her body. Her heart thudded in a crazy beat.

“Now, what were we doing before we were so rudely interrupted?” His hands settled on her hips.

“If I recall correctly, you were about to kiss me,” she said in a shaky voice.

“Right, but let’s get more comfortable.”

He swept her up and headed for the living room. Breathless, she settled into his arms, relishing the feel of his easy strength. How many girls had the fantasy of a big, strong guy sweeping her off her feet? Ry could actually pull it off and then some, making her light-headed with anticipation for what would come next.

He set her down in front of the comfy sofa, trailing kisses along her neck as he helped her out of her jean jacket.

“Hang on,” he murmured, pulling away. “I don’t want you to get cold.”

He crouched in front of the big hearth. His T-shirt pulled tight as he reached for the matches in the kindling box, showing off his broad shoulders and muscular arms. Claire did shiver then—not from cold, but from imagining all that brawn and muscle naked and on top of her. It still seemed impossible that it was actually going to happen. That she and Ry would finally be together.

For now anyway.

She shoved aside that unwelcome bit of worry and watched him light the fire. It quickly crackled into life, casting heat in a welcome blaze. Ry stood and switched off the table lamp beside the door to the hallway. With only the fire to drive back shadows, the familiar room had turned mysterious and romantic.

He came back to her and slipped his hands around her back, reaching for her zipper. “Okay if we get you out of this dress?”

She nodded, as eager as he was. Still, she felt her smile wobble. While she liked sex a lot, it had been almost a year since she’d last dated and much longer since she’d gone to bed with a man. Even then, the sex had been of the garden-variety type—in bed, under the covers, with the lights out.

With Ry, there was no hiding. He could see her every expression, see everything about her. And he could probably read every emotion that flashed through her eyes, for better or worse.

He slid her dress from her shoulders and arms. Balancing one hand on his waist, she wriggled out of it, smiling at the sound of his soft groan. He grasped the dress before it hit the floor, turned, and tossed it onto an armchair. By now, the warmth in his dark eyes had morphed into a blazing heat.

He let his gaze travel slowly over her body. It lingered on her panties, which barely covered anything. Already she could feel herself growing soft and wet, even though he’d barely touched her.

“So, are you going to do something,” she asked, fighting a sudden rush of shyness with bravado, “or just stand there and stare at me all night? Because that would be about the most low-key sex on the planet, dude. I might end up falling asleep.”

He snorted. “I think my brain just froze for a second. Maybe all the blood went to my dick.”

He traced a fingertip along the black lace trim of her push-up bra. “So pretty,” he whispered.

“Thanks,” she whispered back. She reached for the hem of his shirt. “My turn.”

When she started to yank the shirt over his head, he took over, ripping it off and tossing it away.

Greedily, Claire put her hands on his body. And oh, man, was it worth the wait. She slid her fingers over his awesomely sculpted shoulders and chest, lightly combing through the soft, springy hair on his pecs. She followed the trail as it arrowed down and disappeared under the waistband of his jeans. When she started on the button there, he gently moved her hands away.

She frowned. “What’s wrong?

“Not a damn thing.”

He moved so quickly that she didn’t have a chance to react. His hands closed around her waist, and a second later he lifted her up and plopped her gently on the couch, a couple of pillows behind her head. He pushed her thighs wide as he knelt between them.

A wee bit off-kilter on the couch, Claire grabbed his biceps. Before she could find her balance, he took her mouth in a kiss that ravished her, sending her pulse skyrocketing. Without lifting his mouth from hers, he slipped a hand around to cradle her head, holding her steady. For a few long, delicious moments, they just kissed. Ry’s mouth slanted over hers in a leisurely possession that quickly built into a hunger that spread fire through her veins.

Claire finally broke away, gasping. “Okay, give me a second to catch my breath.”

She needed a moment to calm her heart, since it was threatening to beat its way out of her chest. They’d hardly done anything, and yet she already felt close to overwhelmed.

“Breathing is overrated.” He worked his way along her jawline and down to her throat. She didn’t even try to hold back a moan as he licked and nibbled his way to her shoulder.

“Mind if we take this off?” he murmured, touching her bra strap.

“Be my guest,” she choked out.

He unsnapped the front closure and eased the bra down her arms, his gaze avid as he exposed her breasts. Claire sensed his hands shake a tiny bit as he slipped the scrap of silk and lace from her body. He flipped it in the general direction of their other clothes and sat back on his heels, staring at her. The muscles of his throat moved as he swallowed.

“Holy shit, Claire.”

Sometimes he was a man of laughably few words, but she heard the appreciation in his tone, and something that sounded like heartfelt emotion.

She reached for him, but he swooped in with an athlete’s speed and fastened his mouth on her breast. His arm snaked around her back and she moaned again as he suckled her. Electricity streaked through her body, deliciously scorching every nerve ending.

For a few almost delirious minutes, Ry played with her, focusing all his attention on her breasts. He went from one to the other, teasing her, flicking her stiff nipples with the tip of his tongue before sucking her back into his mouth. The pleasure was so sharp, so acute, that it was almost painful. And if he kept it up, she just might come before they got any further. When he lifted one of her breasts, his lips tugging hard on her nipple, Claire dug her fingers into his jean-clad hips and tried to pull him even closer, seeking contact where he could do her the most good.

But then his hands dropped away and he pulled back, groaning with what could be frustration. Claire grabbed the cushions to steady herself. “What’s wrong?”

“Absolutely nothing, except for the fact that I’m about to explode before I’m even inside you.”

Heat burned her cheeks at his carnal language. “Then what are you waiting for?” At this point, she was ready to rip his clothes off and pounce on him. In fact, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t done it already.

He gently cupped her cheeks with his big hands. “Because I want it to be really good for you,” he murmured. “I don’t want to rush anything.”

She pressed her palms over his hands and took in both the hard set of his mouth and the almost fierce glitter in his dark gaze. Emotion tugged at her heart, and she had to swallow twice before she could answer.

“It’s okay, Ry. I’m ready. So, so ready.”

His mouth eased into a smile that made her go all soft inside. His hands drifted down to her thighs, smoothly stroking them and making her tremble.

“Pink bows and black lace.” He tugged on the little bow in the center of her panties. “So sweet. Like you.” He trailed a finger down and pressed gently on her clit through the damp, silky fabric.

Such a light touch, yet it jolted right through her. Claire grabbed his shoulders as a little hiss escaped her ips.

Growling deep in his throat, Ry hooked his thumbs inside her panties and quickly drew them down her legs. He let them drop to the floor, then planted his hands on the inside of her thighs and slowly pushed her wide open.

A hot flush rose up her neck and into her cheeks. Conflicting emotions swept through her—a little bit of shyness and a whole lot of excitement. But there was more than that, so much more. She saw a possessive tenderness in his gaze that made her heart flutter and turn over in her chest.

I want him so much.

“Beautiful,” he murmured.

Do not cry, you dope. The light in his eyes made her feel both vulnerable and cherished—and  special in a way she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

If ever.

When his gaze lifted to her face, its intensity threatened to suck the air out of her body. Unless she was tragically mistaken, there was as much need in his eyes as there was in her heart.

He leaned in and pressed a long, slow kiss to her mouth. It melted every bone in her body.

“Don’t ever doubt that, honey,” he said when he finally pulled back. “You’re beautiful both inside and out.”

Claire blinked hard. She would not screw this up by getting messy and emotional. It was too soon and too fast for that. Tonight was about pleasure, about living in the moment. It was about letting herself go and not making things more complicated then they needed to be.

Focus on the moment. Focus on Ry.

He gently guided her until she rested comfortably against the back of the couch, a few cushions propped behind her. That position thrust her breasts up and he took full advantage, sucking and kissing her nipples until she was again squirming beneath him. Then he slid down her body, and his big, deft hands eased her wide.

Finally, finally, his mouth was on her, his tongue slipping through her wet folds, teasing her open and tasting her. He clamped his hands on her hips, holding her still as he took what he wanted, driving her wild. Sensation built in a relentless wave, carrying her right to the edge.

When he sucked her clit into his mouth, Claire detonated. The pleasure was so staggering that her hips lifted right off the cushions, and a long moan surged up from deep within her. But before she even had a chance to catch a breath, Ry was pulling her upright. He took her lips in a wet, open-mouthed kiss that was both urgent and tender, tasting so earthy and so passionate that it made her shake. One of his hands cradled her head as he gentled the kiss into a sweet, possessive nuzzle before easing back.

She opened her eyes. Ry was staring at her, his gaze dark and hot. One of his hands slipped down to her neck, while the other reached for his zipper. He shoved his pants down over his knees and managed to get out of them without standing or moving away from between her thighs. When he yanked off his briefs, Claire felt her eyes go wide.

Holy shit.

To say that Ryder Griffin was all man was the understatement of the year.

And you’re going to ride Ryder, Claire. In your old house, no less.

She couldn’t hold back a snicker at the lame joke that had somehow popped into her head. It was obviously more the product of nerves than anything else.

His hand stilled and his eyebrows shot up. “I gotta say that a chuckle wasn’t exactly the reaction I was expecting.”

She flapped a hand. “It wasn’t about that, trust me. You are very impressive.”

“Then is there a problem?” he asked, with a just a touch of masculine ire.

She draped her arms over his broad shoulders and pressed a kiss to his lips, so loving the taste of him.

“Do I look like I have a problem?” She reached down and wrapped her fingers around his thick erection. It pulsed hot and heavy in her hand.

“Uh, no,” he breathed, resting his forehead against hers. “I guess you don’t.”

“I want you so much that I can’t wait a moment longer,” she whispered.

She’d been waiting forever for him, it seemed, and now she would finally have him.

“I’m so with you,” he whispered back.

He straightened up and reached for his jeans, quickly extracting a condom from his pocket. He ripped it open and sheathed himself in record time.

Suddenly, Claire truly couldn’t wait a second longer. She wrapped her legs around his hips, bringing herself snug against him. When his cock slid through her wet folds and rubbed across her clit, she gasped at the sensations sparking through her body once more.

Ry groaned and his eyelids fluttered down. “Man, you’re so hot and wet.”

Since no words could describe how she felt—how good they felt together—Claire simply brought her hands around his neck and tunneled her fingers into his short, thick hair.

His eyelids lifted and their gazes locked. “Ready?”

“So ready,” she whispered.

He thrust into her in a long, slow slide that stole every last breath of air from her body.

Then he began to move—strong, steady, and quickly building. His hand found the curve of her back, settling low to pull her against him. It felt like pure energy rocketing through her body, firing her up wherever they touched. Her hands moved from his neck to curl around his powerful biceps. She clung to him, giving in to the strength of his body while he pounded into her.

She could barely believe it but he took her to the very edge so quickly again, rocking her into ecstasy. Her body clenched around him, milking his thick length. When he reached down and flicked a thumb over her clit, a long shudder coursed through her and she curled around him, so far gone in the pleasure—in him—that she could hardly think. All she could do was feel Ry deep inside her, feel their hearts pounding against each other, and feel his groan vibrate through their bodies as he came hard.

Her heart opened to a passion she’d never felt before and an emotion so sweet and yet so devastating that she wanted to cry for joy.

But she refused to mar the moment with tears that would embarrass them both. Instead, she just rested against him, focusing on their bodies and how good they felt together. She concentrated on the amazing fact that for once she’d let go and done something wild. Something so unlike her.

Ry sucked in a deep breath. “Wow. I can’t believe we waited so long to do this.”

She pressed her face into his shoulder, struggling to get her emotions under control. “I hope it was worth the wait.”

He tipped her chin up, gazing down at her with an intensity that had her throat going tight again.

“More than you know, Claire,” he said in a solemn voice. “And a hell of a lot more than I deserve.”

She blinked up at him, surprised by the depth of emotion in his words and on his face. She should feel totally at sea and even scared after taking a risk that felt like an emotional revolution.

Instead, she was…happy.

* * *

Stanley’s woof from downstairs pulled Ry awake. Blearily, he glanced at the bedside clock.

3:20 a.m.

With a yawn, he turned over to reach an arm out for Claire and found the space where she’d been empty. Had she snuck out and gone home?

He could almost guarantee she’d had second thoughts, because they seemed second nature to Claire. Yet she didn’t strike him as the kind of woman who’d bolt on a guy after the kind of evening they’d just spent together. It might have been a mistake to give in to all those weeks of frustration and desire but if so, it was a mistake that felt totally right to him.

They’d had spectacular sex all over—even once in the kitchen, with her up on the counter. After all that, she’d curled up in his arms on the sofa and dropped into a heavy doze. When he gently woke her after a while and asked if she wanted to go upstairs to bed—to stay the night and sleep—she’d surprised him by mumbling yes. She’d been three-quarters out of it when he carried her up and had fallen into a coma-like slumber as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Maybe suddenly waking up in the middle of the night and finding herself in her parents’ old room had freaked her out. It sucked for both of them that she was still so hung up about the place. As difficult as it would be for her to see the old house torn down, he figured it could end up being good for her. Once the place was gone, it should be easier for her to finally move on.

He smiled and rolled out of bed. His current plan was for more hot sex in the morning, and then he’d whip up a big breakfast for her. After that…who knew what might happen?

Flipping on a lamp, he opened a dresser drawer and pulled out a pair of sleep pants. Stanley woofed again and Ry hurried downstairs to find the dog sitting on his haunches, staring out the patio door.

Claire was on the patio, barefoot and wearing nothing but one of his white dress shirts. It barely concealed the sweet curve of her ass and did nothing to hide her slim, gorgeous legs. When he thought about those legs resting on his shoulders as he went down on her, he started to get hard again.

He slid the door open. “Taking in the night air?”

Stanley rushed out and headed straight past her to his favorite spot for doing his business.

Claire turned and gave him a smile. “Stargazing out here brings back so many memories. My sister and I would get up in the middle of the night sometimes and come out here on the lawn. We’d wrap ourselves up all cozy in blankets and lie on our backs to stare up at the sky and talk about every silly thing we could think of. Boys, usually.”

Ry found that image of the sisters surprisingly sweet. “Want me to grab a couple of blankets now? Maybe keep the little walk down memory lane going?”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Not a bit. Either that or you should come back to bed.” He smiled. “You’re not exactly dressed for the outdoors.”

She scrunched up her nose. “I’m sorry about taking your shirt. Your closet door was open and…”

“No worries. It looks a hell of a lot better on your body than it does on mine.”

She gave him a shy little grin. “How about we start with the blankets, then see what happens?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Ry headed back upstairs with Stanley right on his heels.

He found a couple of king-size blankets in the linen closet and took them back to the patio, handing one to Claire. She stepped out onto the grass and stretched out the blanket like they were going to have a picnic.

She shot a glance down to where his sleep pants displayed clear signs of his amorous intentions. “We can sit on this one and wrap ourselves in the other and snuggle.”

“Sorry about…uh, that.”

“Don’t be, because I’m not. In fact, I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to think of something to do with your little problem if you’re patient.”

When his head jerked back a little, she pursed her lips, trying not to laugh. “Oops, sorry again. Little is a most inaccurate choice of words when it comes to your equipment.”

She flashed him a cheeky grin that made him want to take her right on the spot. He couldn’t believe how much he wanted her. Sleeping with Claire had driven home everything he knew about her with a certainty that floored him.

When she gracefully sat down and leaned back onto her elbows, he wrapped one side of the big blanket around her and sat down before pulling the other side around him. “By the way, did I mention before that you have a truly spectacular ass, Maddox?”

Claire snuggled closer as he put an arm around her waist. “Yes, I distinctly recall that unforgettably romantic line.” She gave him a little poke in the ribs with her free hand. “But I bet you say that to all your girls.”

While she’d tried to make it sound like a joke, he heard the implied question. The stereotype of the hard-partying pro athlete was apparently alive and well here, as it had been everywhere.

“All what girls?”

“Well, the hordes of groupies that follow teams around, for starters. You probably had to beat them off with a big stick.” When he laughed, she poked him again. “And I don’t mean that stick.”

He shook his head. “Not true. Sure, some of that stuff goes on. But at least half the guys I played with were happily married and wouldn’t go anywhere near groupies.”

“What about the other half?” she asked softly. “The unmarried ones, like you.”

At this point, it seemed wrong not to tell her about his brief marriage.

“Actually, I was married for a short time. But even after it went south, I didn’t go in for the kind of hookup you’re talking about. I kept business and pleasure separate. Always.”

She twisted around to stare at him. “I had no idea you’d been married.”

“Okay, when you said you didn’t Google me, I guess you meant it,” he said in a light tone. “Anyway, it was just a high school sweetheart kind of thing. We were so not right for each other but too young and stupid to know it for a while.”

“What was her name?”

“Krista.”

He tightened his arm around her. Claire’s warmth was an antidote to the cold sense of failure that dogged him whenever he thought about that ugly period of his life.

“We had big trust issues,” he added. “I tried hard but could never manage to reassure her. Being away so much didn’t help. The team was on the road half the time, and it’s a really long season—up to nine months if you make the playoffs. Krista was convinced that I had to be screwing women in practically every NHL town between Boston and LA. Sometimes she’d call me at four in the morning, just to see if I was actually there or if I had a woman in my room. A couple of times she even hopped on a plane and showed up at the team hotel late at night.”

She rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder. “That’s so nuts.”

“Tell me about it. Look, you might think that where there was smoke, there had to be some fire, but believe me, it was all in Krista’s head. Nothing I could say or do made any difference. Hell, I’m no angel, that’s for sure, but I’ve never cheated—not on the ice, not on my taxes, and not in my marriage.”

Claire hugged him. “You may be a complete pain in the butt sometimes, but I definitely don’t see you as a cheating kind of guy.”

He snorted out a laugh, and the tightness in his gut eased up a bit.

“Can I ask if Krista left you, or if you were the one to call it quits?”

He propped his chin on her head. It was easier to talk about when he wasn’t looking at her. “It was me. I divorced her after three years. She was an emotional mess and getting worse. I tried everything I could think of to help, including marriage counseling.” That little experiment had done nothing to convince him that hauling your emotions out for microscopic inspection did any good. In fact, it had seemed to hasten epically bad results. “I reached out to her friends too, but that didn’t help either. In the end, I just couldn’t stay with her any longer. A few times, she even threatened to kill herself if I left, so that made it even harder. But I knew that staying would only make things worse. That she needed me gone as much as I needed to go.”

“How very sad for both of you.” Claire’s voice was filled with compassion, both for him and a person she’d never met.

“I haven’t talked to her in a couple of years. I know she’s still with the guy she married soon after we split up though. They’re probably living the good life on the financial settlement from the divorce.”

Ry wasn’t proud of the bitterness that had just leached into his voice. But Krista had put him through hell, and he had yet to fully rid himself of the lingering pain.

“I’m sure you were very generous.”

“I agreed to just about everything she asked for. It was important to me to make sure she’d be okay at least financially.”

Claire twisted out from under his arm and looked up at him. She was all moonlight and shadows, her face a study in solemn beauty. “I truly didn’t meant to pry, but I’m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me.”

The story was still incomplete. “You might as well know one last thing.”

She stretched up and kissed him softly on the lips. Ry breathed her in like a warmly scented ocean breeze. “Only if you need to tell me.”

“I want to.” He wanted her to understand why he was the way he was. “And it’s going to sound like a stupid soap opera.”

“Well, now you’ve really got my interest.”

“One time in the offseason, I’d flown to Phoenix for a sports banquet. I was on my way to the hotel when I got a call saying the organizers had to cancel the event. There was a serious fire in the hotel, and they’d evacuated the place an hour earlier and closed it down. So, I turned around and caught a flight home, one that got me to my place about nine o’clock instead of after midnight, when I was supposed to be back. When I walked in the door, there was Krista and our neighbor at the top of the stairs, still kind of scrambling with their clothes. It was so obvious what had happened that I just walked back out without saying a word. I stayed at a hotel that night and called a lawyer first thing in the morning.”

He wasn’t going to give Claire any more sordid details. She didn’t need to know how Krista had been unrepentant and had even called her infidelity just “tit for tat” for his non-existent philandering. She’d even flung out the accusation to a mutual friend that Ry could no longer satisfy her in bed. Even after all their troubles, it had leveled him to hear her be so utterly dishonest.

The two most important people in his life, his father and his wife, had both had treated him like dirt. Even now, he wondered if there was something wrong with him that made people he cared for act that way.

He looked at Claire, afraid he might see pity in her eyes.

“Let me revise my previous opinion of your wife,” she said in a voice that shook a little. “Yes, she was troubled and unhappy, but as far as I can tell, she was also a sociopathic, stone cold bitch. And if she were here right now, I’d give her a good kick in the ass. More than one, in fact.”

As Ry took in the righteous anger of her gaze, an old, exhausting weight slid away and something inside him expanded, as if it—whatever it was—could finally breathe. It was so surprising—Claire was so surprising—that he wanted to laugh.

And he did.

* * *

Claire stared at him, stunned by his reaction. She’d figured he’d either shrug off her go-with-her-gut assessment of his ex-wife and go into hermit mode or be offended by her raw words.

Laughter was not at all what she’d expected.

“Okay, I think we’ve pretty much dealt with my ex.” With a final chuckle, Ry pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. “Let’s talk about something less depressing than that ancient history.”

She was tempted to suggest that they bag conversation entirely and just make out under the stars. But if he wanted to talk—which was a rare occurrence—they would talk.

“Anything specific in mind?”

“How about art? That seems only fitting after your big victory in the quick draw. But you’d better start from square one, since the only paint I know anything about goes on with a roller.”

Art. Apparently he’d reached the limit of talking about feelings for at least one evening.

“Well, I know for a fact that you have a good eye for art.” She was thinking about what she’d discovered in his office not long before he’d come downstairs. “And that being said, I’m afraid I have a little confession to make.”

Ry stared at her, obviously puzzled as she gave him a sheepish smile. But then his eyes narrowed. “Ah, okay. Ms. Maddox has been snooping. Maybe that’s really why you got up in the middle of the night.”

“No! Not at all. Okay, yes, I have to plead guilty to snooping—well, sort of, anyway. But it certainly wasn’t deliberate.”

“Full disclosure would be the way to go at this point,” he said in a dry tone.

She wasn’t sure whether he was angry or just yanking her chain. “The reason I woke up is that I heard a weird noise coming from downstairs. I almost shook you awake, in fact. But then I figured it was probably just Stanley chewing on one of his toys.”

“And?”

“And I decided I’d better go check on him. You know, to make sure it actually was a toy he was chewing on and not a piece of furniture or something he pulled out of the trash. Anyway, I found him in your office, and when I went in there, I—”

“Saw the painting,” he said with chagrin. “Dammit.”

She lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Ry’s expression eased into a smile. “Don’t worry about it. It was in the office because I was still thinking about the best place to hang it. I was going to surprise you the next time you were over. I just hadn’t figured that the next time would end up being tonight.”

“I was so surprised to see it that I almost fell on top of Stanley. I’m so thrilled that you liked it enough to buy it. Truly.” Then her anxiety stirred again. “You do like it, right? It wasn’t a duty purchase, was it?”

He kissed the top of her head again. “Of course I like it. It’s amazing. You won the contest, remember?”

“Actually, I keep forgetting. You have to admit that it’s been a pretty action packed day.”

“No shit.” Laughter threaded his deep voice.

She stretched up to give him another quick kiss. “Well, thank you so much. I’m sorry I ruined your incredible surprise.”

He kissed her back with a lot more intensity. They played a little, with him holding her close and gently stroking the side of her breast through the starched cotton of her shirt. She breathed a soft sigh into his mouth, ready for a lot more.

Too soon he pulled back. “When the new house is finished, I’m going to find the perfect spot for it. Somewhere everybody can see and appreciate it.”

“You mean for all those guests you’ll constantly be having over?”

“Touché, smartass.”

“Well, you’ll certainly have plenty of room for guests and parties, given the palace you’re going to be building.”

“Hardly a palace. But yeah, I’ll have a big terrace and pool out here and a fountain too. People can dance in the fountain and get shit-faced, and we can bet on who’ll tumble down the bluffs. Hell, maybe my concierge could even do the party planning.”

She laughed. “Brides Bay Concierges can handle anything. Generally speaking though, we frown on having guests of clients go tumbling over the edge of cliffs. That sort of thing creates too much paperwork.”

“Okay, it’s settled then. We’ll schedule the parties for weekends that I’m away racing.”

“Oh, man, you are hopeless.”

“Well, they don’t call me the Hermit of Promise Island for nothing.”

She winced. “You heard that name?”

“It’s Brides Bay, remember?” he said sardonically. “Nothing here stays secret for long.”

“True. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. The hermit description kind of fits. My idea of a party is what we’re doing right here now.”

When he drew her closer and nuzzled her neck, she practically melted. “This is my kind of party too. It’s been a special, special day.”

“Really special, but I like the night part best.”

“Me too. If I could sit out here every night for the rest of my life, just like this…” Claire let her words drift away on a dreamy sigh.

He gave a quiet snort. “I was talking more about what went on inside earlier.”

“I know you were, you pervert.”

“You’re complaining?”

“Only if you don’t wake me up in the morning with a little…you know,” she finished, just a bit too shy to put it right out there. It was silly, given that she was practically naked in his arms. Still, she didn’t want to take anything for granted.

“Oh, you can take that to the bank,” he said.

When his hand drifted up the back of her thigh to her naked butt, she sighed and pressed her lips to his shoulder. He rumbled approval deep in his throat but didn’t go any further, just keeping his warm hand resting gently on her body. She leaned into him and let her gaze drift upward to the majesty of the night sky over the silent bay.

They quietly watched the stars, the air clear and dry and the constellations shimmering like fine crystal. When she lived in New York, she’d deeply missed the ethereal landscape of Brides Bay. Even with all the sacrifice and hardship of the past few years, she realized how blessed she was to be here in this moment, in this place.

With Ry.

He finally stirred, moving his hand down to her knee. “Claire, about the painting.”

“Hmm?”

“When I watched you working on it this afternoon, I could feel how much it meant to you. The scene. This view. This house.”

She sighed as the beautiful moment began to slip away. “Yes.”

“I want you to know that I get it, and that I feel pretty lousy about…about what I have to do.” He paused. “But I don’t have much choice. I wish there was some other way, but I don’t see it.”

She stared off into the depths of the darkness that was broken only by a handful of tiny lights from homes of insomniacs across the bay.

When she finally looked at him, his somber expression made her realize that he did get it, and that he truly was sorry. And he was right. What choice did he have? She doubted that anyone with a particle of financial sense would do what she’d do if she ever got the chance—spend tons of cash to lovingly preserve an old home that was decades past its prime.

“I understand, Ry. And I’m okay with it.”

“Are you sure?” He was clearly skeptical.

“I will be.” She shook her head, impatient with herself. “Yes, I am.”

Liar.