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“No. I wanted you, and that was all.”
Again, her beautiful mouth opens in an expression of astonishment. “You are brutally honest.”
“Yes. Does that scare you?”
“I’m not sure, but I think I prefer honesty. What does it imply if I say I’ll stay with you?”
“Whatever we both want.”
Zoe may be young, but she’s not that naive and understands perfectly what Idon’tsay.
She stares at the floor. “If I say yes, I need to let my mother know anyway and give her your address, too.”
“That won’t be a problem, but I intend to leave the city in my boat. I don’t want to stay here.”
“Why not?”
“A lot of people know me. I want privacy with you.”
“First, I will accept your invitation to dinner. Then I’ll decide on your proposal. I need to think, but anyway,” she says, getting up, coming over to the armchair where I’m sitting and reaching for my hand, “I want to say thank you again.”
I separate my thighs and bring her between them.
She keeps her grip on my hand, and I play with the bow of her robe with my free hand. She follows the movement, exhaling heavily, but she doesn’t pull away.
“I want you. To taste every bit of you, Zoe. But the decision to stay with me is in your hands. If you want to go home, all you must do is tell me.”
“I’ve never done anything like this.”
“I figured.”
“And you still want me?”
I stand up and cup her face with both hands, my thumbs caressing her cheeks as I bend down to speak in her ear, my lips touching her lobe. “I don’t tend to repeat myself, but maybe you need a sample.”
I nibble, letting my tongue run over the soft flesh of her neck, and she trembles against me, but I don’t go too far. She needs the courage to make up her mind, so I force myself to take a step back.
“Go change. We’ll leave in half an hour.”
Zoe
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“You ever eatwith other people around?” I ask.
We are once again in the private wing of a restaurant—although, as I walked in, passing by the tables, I saw several heads turning to watch us.
I know it wasn’t because of me, so it could only be because of him. Who is the man I’m with? I know his name and that he’s very rich, but I’m starting to think he’s famous too.
It may sound crazy, but I feel safe with Xander even without knowing much about him besides his name. He exudes honesty and strong character.
Self-confidence and arrogance, too, of course. But mainly something essential for me: he makes me feel wanted—or rather, desired, I correct myself.
Before we left for dinner, I called my mother. I didn’t tell her in detail what had happened on the cruise, only that I couldn’t go on because I didn’t feel right. I also said that I would stay in Europe for another week, even though I still hadn’t decided on Xander’s proposal. It took me a good fifteen minutes to convince her not to worry, even if I didn’t tell her I was with a man.
How could I when I still don’t know exactly what we are?
“In public places, if I can help it, no,” he finally answers.
