What did appearance matter? What one person found attractive another might not and vice versa.
Where this strong, empowered version of herself had come from, she didn’t know. But she liked it. And actually, she could guess where some of it had come from—or rather who. Tristan.
He strolled past her a second later, his fingertips brushing the hollow of her back. He wore only a pair of briefs, his muscles on display, and she shivered. His appeal never ceased to amaze and draw her; the strength of his body, the grace of his strides. The majesty of his gaze.
Again, he didn’t await a command from her before beginning the morning ritual of making her coffee—which had not improved, yet she didn’t have the heart to correct or stop him.
“Tristan, I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“I need no thanks,” he said, not sparing her a glance.
“You might not need it, but you deserve it. What you did… I don’t know what to say, really.”
“Say that you trust me to take care of you.”
“I do trust you,” she said, and she meant it. “I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted another person.”
A smile teased his beautiful mouth. “That pleases me.”
“So…how did you manage this?” She swept her arms in a wide arch, indicating the entire house. “I never heard you.”
“Over the years, my skills as a maid were perfected. Freesia, a woman I once served, forced me to scrub her home from top to bottom anytime I displeased her. I displeased her often.”
“How horrible!”
“Horrible is an apt description, aye,” he replied. “Your office—”
She gasped. “My office! Oh, no, no, no. Please tell me you didn’t clean my office.” If he’d inadvertently thrown away her flash drives or account files… “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but—”
He cut her off before she could work up a good panic attack. “I left that chamber for you, as I did not know what was trash or what was treasure.”
“Thank you. For everything.” The scent of coffee drifted to her nostrils, as relieving to her as his words. While he looked savage and untouchable on the outside, Julia saw the tender, kind man he was on the inside. No wonder she’d fallen in love with him.
The absoluteness of her feelings rang inside her like a carillon of bells, a culmination of joy and sadness, longing and pain. She wanted to laugh and sob at the same time.
If she told Tristan about her feelings, he might pity her, or worse, might nonchalantly dismiss her love as insignificant.
No, no. This was Tristan she was thinking about. He wouldn’t be so cruel. Otherwise she never would have fallen in love with him. But he might not return her feelings in any way. After all, he’d clearly stated he placed no value on the emotion. And at the moment, she couldn’t blame him! Not while she was caught up in a storm of confusion, self-doubt, and longing.
Julia sighed. She’d always imagined falling in love would feel like she’d gifted her heart with flowers and candy.
Where are my freaking flowers and candy?
She had two choices. Suppress her feelings for Tristan and pretend nothing had changed, or give him everything she had to offer.
The answer formed before she even finished her thought. Give everything. He was the man she wanted, the one she’d thought she could never have. She felt as if she’d waited for him her entire life. His smile brightened the worst of her days. His generosity touched her heart. He made her tingle and sweat, made her crazy with desire. Even now, moisture pooled between her legs, hot and demanding.
Determined to savor every day she had with him—without revealing her feelings—she turned her thoughts to seduction. Simply saying, “Hey, you. I want to get it on,” didn’t seem appropriate. So how did she let him know she was ready to pick up where they’d left off?
“You know, Julia, I have been thinking.” At the counter, he shifted his weight, his forearms resting on either side of her. He’d brushed his teeth, too, his breath minty fresh. “Since Puny Peter is no longer a part of your life, we must make a list of requirements for your new man.”
She felt…shock? Anger? Hurt? Yes, all of those things. She wanted to make love with him, and he wanted to help her pick another man to seduce.
What about last night? What about the wonderful things you said to me, did for me? Her heart drummed a painful, hollow beat in her chest. She heard each thump, an echo of her stupidity and pain.
“I don’t have time to make a list,” she bit out, not sure how else to respond. “I have to clean my office and see what’s salvageable.” She would have pushed to her feet, but he held her in place with a glare.
“Your office can wait until later. As this is to be a lesson—aye, they are starting again—I am in charge. What I say, you do with no arguments, and I say we will stay here and make a list.”
“All right, fine,” she snapped, choking back tears.
“I have taken the liberty of securing ink and paper.”
“Of course you have.” Her words floated across the distance, shrouded with feigned enthusiasm. She gripped the offered pen and pages and dropped them in front of her. “I’m ready when you are.”
“I have given this much thought,” he said, “and I believe requirement number one should be handsome.”
Since Julia wasn’t in the mood to play along, she muttered, “No. I’m putting ‘can’t be ugly on the inside.’”
Tristan made a sound in the back of his throat that sounded suspiciously like choking. “He must appeal to each of your senses.”
She shook her head, writing instead, “He must appeal to my emotions.”
Tristan’s expression darkened. “Is it important that your man give you jewels and furs?”
“Money doesn’t matter. I like to support myself.”
For some reason, her words made him smile. “Most
