Page 71 of Break My Heart

“I have somewhere in mind.”

“Of course you do.”

I hold her gaze. “Give me an hour.”

Her brow lifts. “An hour.”

“To clean up. For us both to get changed.”

“Into?”

“Something that would be appropriate if we went to dinner?” I answer vaguely, so I don’t have to disclose what I have planned.

A smile touches her lips before she acquiesces. “Fine. I’ll see you in an hour.”

There’s nothing worse than waiting on the woman whose heart you held in your hands before you dropped it.

Checking my watch for the fourth time in the last ten minutes, I think there must be something wrong with it because it feels like I’ve been waiting an eternity. Then, when I see her, every movement, every sound, fades into the distance.

She steps out of the lift in a sleek black dress that draws more attention than anything more elaborate ever could. Her hair falls over one shoulder in a sleek cascade. Her presence quiet but undeniable.

Something in my chest seizes as we move in each other’s direction. “You look…” I start, then stop, because the usual words don’t fit.

Her hand smooths over her hip hesitantly even as she waits for me to get my shit together and speak.

“You look exquisite. Perfect,” I manage.

Surprise flickers in her expression. “That’s a very generous compliment.”

“It’s an honest one.” I try to wait for my thundering heart to get under control before I realize that’s not going to happen in her presence. “Truly, Chris. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says softly.

I hold out my arm and ask, “Are you ready?”

“To go where?”

I guide her back to the lift bank for the secured floors. “Somewhere we won’t be disturbed.”

The terrace is exactly what I wanted—private, removed, overlooking the harbor without being part of the spectacle below. Lights reflect off the water, the ripples breaking up the glow of the moon shining down. We’re high enough that the noise of Monaco is muted.

It’s a night made just for us.

Christin steps out beside me, taking it in. “You planned this,” she accuses with a smile in her voice.

I don’t even hesitate. “Yes.”

“Specifically for me?”

“For us,” I correct.

She spins around in a circle. “This is beautiful.”

“I hoped you’d like it.”

“I’m stunned.”

“Does this count as woo?”