I go to her room and she wasn’t there, but it looks like her suitcase exploded.
“Where are you?” I yell.
“In the master!” she yells back. I make my way into my room, and she’s holding up two of my suit jackets. I bring suits just in case. Surfing press conferences aren’t in suits, but I was raised always having one on hand because you never know when you’re going to need it. I guess Mom was right about yet another thing.
“What are you doing?”
She glances at me before returning to the two Brioni bespoke suits. “These are beautiful. I’m trying to figure out which one will make you look more like my chauffeur.”
I chuckle and sit on the edge of the bed.
“Well neither, seeing as each of the jackets is easily ten grand, well I suppose the entire suit was close to twenty-five. I don’t remember.”
“Do you think the man sitting at the security station to the shipping yard is going to know anything about a twenty thousand dollar suit? No, the answer is no.”
“If you say so,” I say, looking at her in her silky robe tied around her body and her makeup dark around her eyes. “So what is this look you’re going for? Do you expect makeup to convince someone to believe you?”
She shoots me ayou’re an idiot look.
“What?” Of all the things I’ve done, playing dress up to get information is not one of them. I guess there is a first time for everything, and a lot of those first-time things seem to be only associated with Aelia.
“Men,” she sighs.
“Yes, I’m a man. Thank you for noticing.” I grin and wink.
She rolls her eyes and drops one jacket before going back to the closet to hang the other. “When you are trying to convince someone you are who you say you are, you can’t just act the part; you have to look it. And if I look like I’m a frantic designer from a fashion house that may have made a mistake with drippy eye makeup and disheveled designer clothes, then yes, I think someone is more likely to believe me.”
“You talk as if you’ve done this before.”
She shrugs and goes back to my closet, returning with a black button-up shirt. “I mean, I haven’t done anything likethis,but back in the day when I was in school, me and some friends were underage, and we used to sneak into clubs.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t just because they knew who your father was and they didn’t want to tell you no for fear of getting shot in the head?”
Her hands drop, and she looks away for a moment. “I hadn’t considered that,” she mumbles.
“Well, we’re in it now, so we just have to sell it.”
She turns her head back and forth, and pushes her shoulders back. “Trust me, I can sell it.”
I reach for her, tugging her to stand between my legs and rest my hands on her hips. She seems to get the picture and straddles my legs. The corners of her mouth tip up as she looks down at me. With my head leaned back, I mirror her amusement as warmth floods my veins. I’m at a loss for words. I don’t know what to say, and I always have something quippy to say. But right now, she is overwhelming to me. Like when I know a massive wave is coming my way and there is slight hesitation that I can’t handle it, but the excitement and adrenaline pumping through my veins gives me the confidence to just go for it, lean into it, and hope for the best. Or like a difficult climb I’m not sure I can complete, but my determination is stronger than my doubt, and I refuse to be scared, and I use the fear to channel it into completing a climb.
That’s how I feel about Aelia. She’s a difficult wave or a climb because I’m starting to feel so much for her and I shouldn’t. But I’ve never shied away from a challenge and I’m not about to start now. The way she feels against me, aroundme, with me, is almost too much for a man like me. But I like that about her. She meets me at every turn, and then she pushes for more, she demands more from me, and who am I to give her less than she deserves?
Even if it’s temporary, Liam?
I push the voice in the back of my head away and kiss the skin between the flaps of her robe. Her dark, sweet cherry scent fills my nose and makes my mouth water. I wish I could lick it off her body. I pepper light kisses over and below her collarbone.
She sighs and drags her hands through my long hair. “You know this is kind of funny,” she says.
I lean back to look her in the eye because I don’t know what she’s talking about.
“I’ve wanted you from the moment I met you. Yet…we never seem to get there.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “I guess we haven’t, have we?” I say and lean my head into her chest.
Her hands come back to my hair and her long nails scrape at my scalp. I have to swallow the groan because it feels so good. The intimacy of holding someone you have no business caring about is yet another aspect of these overwhelming feelings, but I’m still leaning in.
“Honestly, we’ve been too busy or tired. I just think it’s funny because there was a day when that was my only goal with you. And yours was to get me close enough so you could get information. The tide has changed for both of us, I suppose,” she says.