Page 63 of Marcus

Coming to stand next to the large piece of play equipment, Marcus glanced upward and smiled at the two ladies looking down at him. “Now, how exactly am I supposed to get up there?”

Cella looked all too pleased with herself when she replied, “The same way we did—climb, jump, and crawl your way up.”

“You think I won’t?”

“In that silk shirt and those pressed pants, Marcus? I don’t know.”

She made a disbelieving noise to go along with her statement.

“How little faith you have in me, mon amour.”

A little play didn’t scare him, and his godson—along with the rest of his nieces and nephews—had taught him when it came to kids and fun, fuck all else mattered. You were going to get dirty, you would be tired, and it would still be fun.

Marcus glanced up, and gave Cella a wink before he headed into the domed entrance of the play gym. He heard Tiffany’s accompanying happy shout—her celebration that he agreed to join them. He also hadn’t missed that softness in Cella’s stare, either.

It almost haunted him.

Even though he liked it.

That look on her face?

It spoke of falling in love; of being ready to fall. But with the fall came a crash. And God, he knew that feeling all too well now because of her.

He still wondered … would there be a crash?

She liked this man she saw now, but would she like the same man if she knew he had just been on the phone planning the slaughter of a rival organization?

Because those two men? This one she liked, and the one she didn’t know? They were the same.

Marcus wasn’t sure if she understood that, though.

And he was too much of a coward to ask.

“I know this wasn’t part of the plan for this weekend, but—”

Marcus laughed, using the arm that wasn’t busy holding a tired Tiffany over his shoulder to pull Cella closer to his side as they rode the elevator higher to his mother and father’s penthouse. She peered up at him, her lips tilting upward in her happiness before he dropped a kiss to the crown of her head. Those lashes of hers fluttered shut while he lingered there, not even pulling back from the kiss as he murmured, “No worries, it’s fine. I’m happy to do whatever you want while you’re here. Even if what you want to do is work.”

Her eyes popped open again. “I just want to … envision.”

“I have no idea what you’re envisioning.”

His teasing wasn’t missed. She smacked his stomach with the back of her hand, giving him a look at the same time. All he gave her in response to that was a shrug and a grin. What more could he do?

He found that teasing this woman was a form of foreplay in and of itself. She might not realize it, but he certainly did and he didn’t plan to give it up anytime soon.

Or her …

He wasn’t sure he wanted to give her up, either.

“What’s that for?” she asked softly.

Marcus’s brow lifted. “What’s what for?”

“That look.”

“What look?”

He knew exactly what she meant, but fuck it if he wasn’t still a man at the end of the day with more pride than brains sometimes. There was also that whole fear of being vulnerable to someone else, he supposed. It was hard for him to let down that wall, even if everything about Cella screamed it was safe for him to do exactly that.