Page 60 of Duty and Desire

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

I pulled him closer. “You can ask me anything you want. Sharing my bed brings special privileges,” I quipped.

“You’re a good-looking man, you’re intelligent, funny… How come you’re single?”

My heartbeat quickened a little.

“Forget I asked. It’s none of my business.”

I sighed. “No, it’s okay. It’s just not something I talk about.” It was a strange moment, lying in a boat, the starry heavens above us, feeling his body so warm against mine…

Then it hit me. Nick wasn’t going anywhere, and I had nothing to hide anymore.

“To be honest, I’ve never felt ‘at home’ in the dating scene. Throughout my twenties and early thirties, I was always more focused on my career than my personal life. I kept telling myself I just wasn’t ready for a relationship.”

Nick said nothing, but laid his head on my chest, his arm around me.

“Which brings us to the present. I’m thirty-seven, and I’m starting to feel as though I’ve missed out. Not on sex—hook-ups weren’t a problem—but on the opportunity to build something real with someone.” I expelled another sigh. “I wasn’t only a burned-out writer. I’d also been burned by… I suppose you’d call them shallow connections that never amounted to anything.” I huffed. “It got so the idea of putting myself out there again felt so… daunting.”

Nick stirred, his lips soft on my cheek.

“I’ve always been a perfectionist. Once upon a time, that perfectionism fueled my creative side.” I tightened my arm around him. “It also made me hesitant to let anyone in, emotionally.”

“But why?”

I laid my soul bare. “I guess I was scared that any relationship would eventually crumble under the weight of my own insecurities.”

Nick moved, and suddenly I was pinned beneath his weight, his head blotting out my view of the stars. “And now?”

I stroked his cheek. “Do you know what you are?”

“That’s an odd question.” He pressed his lips to my palm, and kissed it.

“You, Nick—” I stilled. “I don’t even know your surname.”

“That’s because I haven’t shared it.” There was a moment’s hesitation. “And it’s Wenzel.”

I kissed him in the dark, a leisurely lingering kiss. I held his face between my hands. “You, Nick Wenzel, are my muse.”

I could feel him smiling. “Really?”

“Without a doubt.”

My words flowed again. Nick had managed to re-ignite a spark within me, and the flame of creativity burned once more, brighter than ever. And lying there with him, the universe stretched out over our heads, I allowed myself to hope something for the first time since we’d met.

Let this be more than a vacation romance.

Chapter Twenty

April 28

Nick

We were on the couch, spending our Sunday reading. I lay on my back, my head in his lap, both of us content to enjoy the silence. Every now and then, he’d bend down to kiss me before diving back into his book.

Life doesn’t get any better than this.

I worked, but my jobs weren’t the focus anymore. Gio was the hub of my existence. We shared food, conversation, exploration of the island…

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