Page 208 of Claimed At First Sight

Maximo’s expression reveals nothing, but at the mention of my father, his eyes turn noticeably colder.

“So, what would you like for breakfast, darling?”

I blink, then narrow my eyes at him, though there’s no real heat behind it.

“First sweetheart, now darling?” I fold my arms. “What’s happening?”

“I’m testing pet names to see which one suits you best.” His tone is solemn, but I can hear the laughter beneath it.

I stare at him. Pet names… for his broodmare. Are horses considered pets?

“You really are an optimist,” I say as drily as possible before lifting my espresso to my lips.

He might not be able to cook, but at least he can operate the coffee machine.

“I keep telling you, I like to be prepared.”

I don’t waste my breath arguing with him. There will never be a time when he needs a permanent pet name for me, and that knowledge makes it safe enough to play along.

“Have you found a favorite yet?”

He takes a step toward me, then another, eliminating the space between us. My pulse immediately decides to become involved, beating harder with every inch he claims.

Before I can retreat, he reaches out and brushes a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers are warm against my skin, and his hand lingers for one deliberate moment.

The gesture is so simple, yet somehow intimate. My stomach promptly forgets how to behave.

I swallow hard as his gaze shifts between my eyes before drifting to my mouth, as though he’s remembering what happened earlier.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low enough to send warmth sliding down my spine.

“I do.”

My heart stumbles.

“Little rebel.”

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Maximo

Ihold the back door of the SUV open for Mia, and she slides onto the seat.

The scent of my soap clings to her skin. The citrus and spice suit her. I resist the urge to lean closer, run my nose along the curve of her neck, and breathe her in.

After closing the door, I round the car and take my seat beside her. I have no intention of allowing Mia to retreat from me again after the progress we’ve made over the past twenty-four hours, so I move closer and place my hand on her knee.

To my surprise, she doesn’t stiffen or push me away. Her thigh tenses beneath my palm for the briefest moment before relaxing again.

Heat races from the point of contact through my fingertips and up my arm until my entire body feels charged.

Mia looks out the window as we emerge from the underground parking garage. The sky is an uninterrupted blue now, with nothing overhead to suggest destructive winds tore through the city only hours ago.

At street level, though, the evidence is everywhere. Snowplows have carved narrow lanes through the accumulation, leaving dirty white banks piled along the sidewalks.

Broken branches lie half-buried beneath the snow, debris has collected against buildings, and several parked cars are little more than rounded shapes waiting to be uncovered. Crews in reflective jackets are already clearing entrances while pedestrians pick their way carefully over patches of ice.

We make the journey back to Aldo’s in silence. It’s comfortable in a way I’ve never experienced with a woman before.