Page 33 of Jacob

“Thank you for loving me.”

“Night, Butterfly.”

With that, I drift off in his loving arms and have the best night’s sleep since arriving in London, where I dream of being wrapped in emerald silk, surrounded by ethereal butterflies, and showered in golden stars.

If this is what Jacob’s love feels like, I think I want to stay here forever.

14

SKYE

Sadness engulfs me when I wake up alone. Deep down, I knew that as dawn broke, it would shatter our embrace. The way he held me tight all night, as if I was his life-preserver, swaddling me like a big soft blanket, was everything I never knew I always needed.

I could stay wrapped in his loving arms for eternity.

Jacob’s turned my night into day, my push into pull, and my darkness into light.

With every visceral fiber of my being, all my body wants to do is seek him out.

Flinging back the bedcovers, I leap out of the giant hotel bed and welcome the day with a star-shaped stretch, feeling better than I have all week. Jacob and I have finally cleared the stale air between us. Moving into the lounge area, the faint sound of trickling water can be heard from the other side of the suite. My legs carry me toward the slightly ajar master bathroom door.

I can’t stop myself peeking through the gap.

Cascading water streams down over Jacob’s wide, muscular body, making his skin glisten under the light. I take this momentto watch him as he lathers up and washes every inch of his perfect skin.

His back is facing the door and my curiosity gets the better of me. I push the door open further and, like a cat on the prowl, I walk stealthily through the blanket of steam.

I want to see his tattoo up close again. It’s breathtaking.

As I reach the glass, I stop. My eyes take in every millimeter of artistry. I move closer still, trying to get a better look at the silhouette of a castle poking out of the sky-blue clouds. It looks like the castle at Castleview Cove. A sketchbook lies at the foot of the castle surrounded by snowdrops. Sitting smack bang in the middle of his shoulder blades are the wordsWhatever, However, Foreverin elegant script lettering.

I lay my hand on the shower screen as if trying to touch it.

It looks like the hand lettering I’ve had on the pinboard in my office I did almost three years ago. It’s one of the many practice pieces I’ve created over the years.

“Is that my writing?” I cry out in shock, my voice suddenly loud in the quiet space.

He whips around. “Holy shit, Skye,” he shouts, throwing his hand to his chest.

I take a deep breath and point against the glass. “Is that my writing on your back?”

A subtle nod confirms it is.

“Jacob.” My voice is thick with a mix of emotions.

I summon all the willpower I have not to join him in the shower and show him how much I appreciate him. But I can’t. I have to stay here and respect his wishes to speak to Owen first.

“Who is that guy?” I point to the giant winged bird tattooed across the front of his chest.

“He’s much wiser than me and helps guide me.”

Damn, being good feels impossible right now.

His dark, soulful eyes burn my skin as he stares at me. Eventually, he lays his palm flat against mine on his side of the shower cubicle, our hands connected through the glass.

I step closer.

He stands, not moving.

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