Page 7

Her brows knit together. “You were yourself. You were shy at the ball, too, Holt. I liked you.”

The past tense makes me hesitate. “Liked?”

She shakes her head, a small smile on her face. “Like.” She rests her hand against my chest. “Present tense. That’s why I’m standing in your cabin instead of dropping this off at the rental shop.” “Though I did start calling you Cinderfella,” she says, her thumb caressing my chest. “You ran away from the ball before midnight and left your coat behind instead of a shoe.”

I stare at her for a second, then laugh despite the heat in my face. Of all the things I imagined her calling me this week, that never made the list. I like hearing it now, with her hand still resting against my chest.

“Cinderfella? Do I get a chance to improve on the ending?”

“That’s why I’m here.” She smiles, and I let myself believe her.

I cover her hand with mine. I feel my heart beating fast beneath it. “I’ve never done this.” I watch our joined hands. “Dating. Any of it.” She tilts her head, waiting. “You were my first kiss.” I lift my eyes again. “At thirty-three.”

Lara’s fingers curl into my shirt, just as they did on the terrace. “You were mine too.” She pauses. “I’m twenty-three, and I haven’t been with anyone either.”

I draw a breath that seems to reach all the way down into my chest. Being her first matters to me, but so does being trusted with what comes next. I want to kiss her until she never doubts I’m attracted to her. I want to hear what she likes and give her time to tell me. For once, being inexperienced feels like something we can share, not something I have to hide.

“I wanted to tell you who I was.” I gently brush my thumb over hers. “I wanted to ask you to see me again. I still do.”

“Then ask.” She steps closer until I can feel her warmth through my shirt.

“Will you see me again?” I keep my hand around hers.

“Yes.” She smiles. “Starting now.”

I touch her cheek, giving her time to move, and bend toward her. She lifts onto her toes before I get there.

This kiss is familiar and new. The softness of her mouth, the hand closing around my collar, the small breath she takes when my arm goes around her—it's all what I have wanted to return to. But when I open my eyes, no mask lies between us.

eight

Lara

“Iwas hoping you’d kiss me again,” I say, turning my face toward him.

He touches the corner of my mouth with his thumb. “I’ve been wanting to since you stopped.”

I slide my hand behind his neck, bring him closer, and stroke the nape of his neck. “I don’t want to go home yet.”

“You can stay.” He brushes a lock of hair from my cheek. “We don’t have to do anything more than sit by the fire and talk.”

“I know.” I look down at his mouth, then back at his eyes. “I want more than just sitting.”

His breathing changes. He takes my hand from his neck and kisses my palm, giving himself a moment before answering. “I want you, Lara.” He holds my hand against his cheek. “But I don’t want you feeling you have to because I finally managed to talk.”

“I don’t.” I lean into him. “I didn’t come here planning this. I came for an answer. Now I’m here with you, and I want to stay.” I squeeze his hand. “We’ll tell each other.”

He kisses me once, slowly, then walks me to his bedroom. We leave the jacket on the bench and walk down the short hallway together.

His bedroom window faces the trees. A quilt lies folded at the foot of the bed, and he pauses to turn on the lamp, then looks back at me. “Are you sure about this?”

I squeeze his hand again. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” I answer honestly.

His hand reaches for me, and I sigh as his fingers brush my cheek. They’re warm and calloused, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my clit. He tilts my chin up so our eyes meet. “Good,” he murmurs, his lips grazing mine in a soft kiss, then his tongue slides into my mouth like we’ve done this a thousand times, not just a handful.

Before I know what is happening, his hands move all over my body, starting at my waist, then moving over my breasts and backside. “So, beautiful.” He pulls my sweater over my head.

“More.” I whimper as his hands find my bra, fumbling slightly before finally unhooking it. My large breasts spill out into his waiting hands, and he groans as his mouth latches onto one nipple while his fingers twist and pinch the other. The sensation is so overwhelming that I arch into him.