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“Oh.” Pressing her lips together, she nodded. “Good. That’s good.”
“You’ve got another hour before dinner’s ready.” Glancing up at them, Francie smiled. “I’m guessing the two of you have some talking to do.”
“Yeah.” And lacing his fingers with Breanna’s, he kissed his aunt on the cheek. “I suppose we do.”
Once inside his living room, loosening his tie with one hand, Ian tossed his briefcase to the sofa with the other.
“I take it back,” she said, looking up at him from beneath her lashes. “You do look lawyerish.”
“Oh, yeah?” Grabbing her hand, he pulled Breanna to his chest and held her there.
“Yeah.” Smiling, her fingertips smoothed over his lapels. “And I like it.”
He kissed her then.
Tightening his hold, Ian pressed her into him closer, his embrace engulfing her entire body. And for a moment, time stood still. Tasting her soft, candied lips. Inhaling citrus from her hair. The feel-good chemical cocktail she incited released into his veins. He savored the feeling.
With a feather-light sweep of his lips on hers, Ian’s thumb grazed her cheek, and he turned toward the glass. Going over to it, he got out of his jacket and tore the tie from his neck, throwing them both to the floor.
Then, as he gazed upon the snow-covered peaks, with her face pressed into his back, Breanna wrapped her arms around his waist. “Are you okay?”
Not really.
With a sarcastic snicker, he exhaled. “I’m no better than Derek.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I knew what he was planning to do.” Squeezing her hand, Ian rubbed it up and down his chest. “Not the how of it, but the why, and when Valerie passed, I didn’t give two shits.”
The woman had cared for him as she would a favored grandson, gifting him generously over the years for doing a job she could have easily managed herself. He just couldn’t abide someone—anyone—who didn’t appreciate Valerie Dalton for the wonderful, selfless human being that she was.
“Because from what I could tell, you never gave a shit about her.” He turned around, whiskey eyes locking on blue. “And I despised you for it.”
With a sudden intake of breath, Breanna gasped at the harshness of his words.
He angled his head, stroking her pretty hair. “In my mind, you were nothing more than an entitled princess who only cared about Valerie’s money.” Pausing to exhale, Ian wet his lips. “But then I met you.”
“Your perception changed, then?”
He nodded. “I was on my way to Sacramento when I ran into you at Hank’s. See, Derek told me you were coming. I didn’t want to see you, and I didn’t want any part of what he was doing. That doesn’t absolve me, though. Knowledge makes me just as culpable. I should’ve put a stop to it…”
“But you did.” Her fingers holding onto his biceps, Breanna shook him. “Maybe I should doubt you, but I never have. I gave you my trust in blind faith, and that’s how it’s going to stay.”
God, I don’t deserve her, but thank you.
“I didn’t plan on falling in love with you—or anyone—that’s for sure. But I did. From the moment I saw you in your deathtrap of a girly car, I think.” Shaking his head, he chuckled. “And you’re trading that thing in, by the way. I need to know you’re safe.”
She nodded, giggling through her tears. “Okay.”
“Because you’re my princess, and I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
You’re mine, all mine.
He kissed her again. “I have to go back to Sacramento.”
“Why?”
