We spend the rest of the day making love. I have had plenty of sex in my life—the passionate kind, the animalistic kind. The paid kind. There has been sex in my life but never love.

Which is why I force myself to leave the bed while she sleeps, to dress quietly, to write a note explaining that the deed will be hers. For such a large property it will require a visit to the lawyer to finalize the transfer, but I make it clear—it will be hers, outright. She owes me nothing. In fact, she most likely won’t ever see me again.

Perhaps I could have been gone. I should have been.

Instead I find myself digging through the pantry for a can of tuna. I open it for the cat, who gobbles it almost faster than seems healthy, swallowing whole chunks of fish.

“Where are you going?” Bea stands in the doorway from the bedroom, holding the lace-trimmed sheet around herself like a toga. I suppose she could look nothing less than glorious, her body well-used, her hair even wilder than ever before.

“Home,” I say, though the word is rather generous considering the emptiness of the loft.

She moves farther into the living area. “Oh.”

“It’s for the best,” I say, managing a small smile for her. “I wrote out the details here, but you will be able to stay at L’Etoile. I made sure of that.”

Her brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

It’s only here that I realize the note was an act of cowardice. This woman has the strength to confront her worst fears. I can find some to tell her it won’t be as bad as that. “I hope you continue to push your boundaries. To visit the rooftop garden or other places in Tanglewood. There are pianos all around the city for you. But you won’t be forced to leave.”

“You talked to Edward,” she says, speaking cautiously because I’m sure she knows that if I confronted him a second time there would be no talking.

“I had a third party do it for me. He was convinced it would be in his best interest to sell the hotel. Which means you’re free. You don’t have to leave, except on your own terms.”

A sense of peace flows out from her. “You did that for me?”

“I would do anything for you.” Even leave.

Her gaze turns to the stack of papers. “Is that from Edward, then?”

“In a manner of speaking. Actually I purchased the property from him, because I had to make sure he would go through with it. I’ll transfer the deed into your name as soon as the lawyer can arrange it. Then it will be yours.”

“You mean I’m going to buy it from you?”

“No, Bea. It’s a gift. There are no strings attached.”

Her mouth drops open. “I could never accept a gift that big.”

It has to be this way. For her, so she is never coerced into anything she doesn’t want, never fearful of it. And for me, because I don’t know how to offer anything but this. “It’s already yours in all but name, Bea. The title is only to make sure you’re safe.”

She takes a step closer, standing right in front of me now. “I’m already safe. If you own L’Etoile then I’m safe here, with you.”

I’m moved that she has such confidence in me. “I never want you to doubt it.”

“I’ll take the hotel from you if that’s what you want. I would be happy to do that. The building may be old and kind of, you know, gaudy, but I love it. And I love the people here.”

“Good.”

“But it will be a purchase. Not a gift.”

I open my mouth to object, but to be fair, the woman probably has more money than God. Then why does it make me feel like I’m crawling out of my skin to accept? Like I’m losing far more than the woman I care about. “Non.”

“Oui,” she says, implacable.

I’m not above pleading, at least not with her. “Bea, you must understand how much I’ve come to care about you. It’s not like the other women. They aren’t even—”

For maybe the first time since I moved here I struggle for words.

She smiles a little. “I know.”

That makes me pause. “You know?”

“You make your own kind of music. Not with your fingers on the keys. With your whole body. I thought I was just imagining it. After all, what did I know? I was a virgin. I don’t know how it usually is between a man and a woman. But I know about music. You can’t fake that kind of passion.”

I breathe out in relief, that she understands what I could not find the words to say. There is too much in my past to love easily, or lightly, the grooves run too deep. I speak with my body instead, and in that language, Bea is an unexpected prodigy.

I give her a small bow. “In that case I accept your terms. You will buy the hotel.”

“And I hope you will come visit me here.”

My throat becomes tight. I would give almost anything to be with Bea, but I’m not sure I could handle being paid for the honor. Not anymore. “In a professional capacity?”

“If that’s the only way I can have you, yes.” She swallows hard. “But I’m going to be honest with you, even though it terrifies me. It terrifies me more than taking a cab to your loft, which was a lot. I want more than that. I want everything.”

“Everything?” It seems impossible that I could have this. For so long I lived only for revenge. And for pleasure. I thought that would be enough until I met Bea.

She made me realize I want more than that. “What you said in the shower,” I say, gruff.

Her lips twist into a secret feminine smile, and for the first time in my life I feel my skin flush hot. Am I blushing? Mon Dieu. She really has ruined me for anyone else. “I think I asked you to be rough with me.”

“Something else,” I say, though I’m dangerously close to being rough with her on the dining table. There is only one thing I want more than sex with her right now.

“That you should make yourself feel good,” she says, letting the sheet fall away from her body.

“Minx,” I say on a groan. “Witch. Siren. You said something else to me.”

“Whatever you want,” she whispers.

And then I take her in my arms. “Everything. Mon Dieu, I want everything with you.”

She wraps her arms around my neck and gives me all of that and more. The fire in her wild hair, the freckles scattered across her body. The acceptance in her beautiful moss eyes. There is a whole universe waiting for us, and we find it one star at a time.