And going home with him.
The smile she turned on him melted his bones and the weight of her hand in his was the best thing he’d ever felt. Pierce had never succeeded in hailing a cab so quickly, but it still wasn’t quick enough. Jacquie kissed him in the cab as if she couldn’t wait and Pierce was amazed by her all over again.
He wanted it to be slow, but when Jacquie whispered “I need you now,” there was no chance of that. They did it against the wall of his kitchen, still half-dressed, both coming so fast and furious that it left him dizzy.
He kicked off his jeans and carried her to the bedroom, seducing her slowly the second time. He loved how she roared in her release, indifferent to anything but his touch. His heart skipped when she reached for him immediately afterward, eyes shining as she promised retaliation. His release was bigger than ever before, shaking the foundations of his universe.
Just the way Jacquie did. She’d pushed him to change, to become a better man, to come to terms with his past—in order to give them a future.
She dozed in his arms, her black lace bra still draped over her arm, and Pierce was humbled that she’d chosen to be with him.
“I love you,” he murmured, thinking she was asleep.
But Jacquie opened those eyes and looked straight into his heart. When she smiled and her gaze warmed, Pierce knew that he’d found what he’d been seeking all his life—and he would treasure it for every day and night. He bent and captured her mouth with his, kissing her until she moaned, then he took her to the brink of pleasure again.
It was the first night of the rest of their lives and he’d make sure it was memorable.
It was early in Saturday morning when Jacquie got out of bed, leaving Pierce sleeping. She used the bathroom, borrowed one of his shirts, then went out to the main room of his compact apartment. The city was dark and quiet beyond the windows, the sky smeared with pale pink in the east. His view was of the High Mile, so there weren’t as many lights and if she squinted, she could have been in a town and not the middle of Manhattan. It felt to Jacquie as if the building was sleeping around them: the sound of traffic was muted and distant, and she could hear Pierce’s deep steady breathing.
She remembered a hundred early mornings like this one, getting up alone in the dark, just listening to her kids breathe. She’d always felt awe that she’d had any part in bringing them into the world, and now she felt a similar wonder that she’d been tugged into Pierce’s life, and he into hers.
She didn’t want to ever leave. Unlike her relationship with her kids, Jacquie felt as if Pierce was an equal partner. Like Brandon had once suggested, they could take care of each other. She liked the idea of being a team with Pierce.
And he loved her. His whispered confession sent a thrill through her, even in recollection, and she was keenly aware that she hadn’t answered in kind. It had seemed too pat, too obvious, and she didn’t want him to think her words were insincere.
She loved him and she’d tell him when the moment was right.
She had the feeling that they had all the time in the world.
Jacquie found herself drawn to the collection of framed pictures on the wall. She guessed that he’d been inspired by her own gallery and was curious about his ghosts. She turned on the kitchen lights and went to look.
The pictures were all the same size and had been converted to black and white images. They’d been hung in a grid pattern, so orderly that Jacquie smiled at the proof that Pierce had arranged them himself. Here was an Asian woman beneath dark-leaved trees planted in rows, with her family gathered around her. Her husband was with her, and it looked like two kids, along with their spouses, and four grandchildren. The trees were in bloom, white flowers surrounding the family and falling around them, and Jacquie knew this was Midori in the new grove.
She was pretty and looked happy.
Here was a young Farah with a younger Pierce, surrounded by half a dozen pictures that showed the affection between the two of them. Jacquie was touched by Pierce’s obvious protectiveness of the lively princess. She smiled at the shot of Farah decking some other dignitary of about her age, maybe a prince of a neighboring realm, and could guess who had taught her how to do that.
Here was Pierce and his team in Greater Alghenia, crisp and attractive in their uniforms. In another picture, one of them in more casual attire laughed, indicating what looked like a small frog. There was a story there, she was sure. Here was a trio of soldiers in battle fatigues, playing cards on the side of a mountain, one smoking. She thought the one most attentive to the game was Pierce, even though his face was averted.
Here was a Victorian house, with what looked like fruit trees behind it, a family arrayed on the steps for the picture. It was an older picture and Jacquie couldn’t recognize any of them given the distance. Here was a pair of young boys in matching striped T-shirts, one with a football and one missing a tooth. Pierce. Jacquie smiled. He’d been a cute boy.
And here was a couple dancing, a couple she couldn’t identify. Maybe they were Farah’s parents. Jacquie couldn’t figure out why it was there. The couple were dressed in elegant evening wear, a tux for the prince, with a golden sash, and they both wore gloves. The woman’s jeweled crown was probably worth more than Jacquie’s annual salary.
They were a handsome couple and regally dressed,
