True to his word, Dane left her alone. After sipping the last of the champagne in her glass, Cammie picked up Rex. He hadn’t moved except to lift his head when Dane left the room.
She carried the dog up the wide manor staircase to the first landing, where a portrait of some naval hero took pride of place on the wall. There the stairs separated, going up each side. She took the right-hand stairway, heading to her room. She kept clothes and other necessities at the manor and hadn’t brought much with her. At the top, her door stood open.
She had a fleeting wish that Dane would be waiting inside.
But when she stepped across the threshold, the room was empty. After she set Rex on the bed, he curled into a ball, falling asleep right away. He would stay there all night as if guarding her, where he could jump up at a moment’s notice.
In the bathroom, she wiped away her makeup and the residue of the long day.
A voice inside told her the truth. Dane always comes to me when I really need him.
When Arlo betrayed her, Dane had recognized her distress and surprised her with flowers, then the cutest puppy in the world.
Now that she thought about it, he had the office space on the Peninsula because of her. He would have been more centrally located for business if he’d been in the city. But he’d chosen that location so she wouldn’t have a long commute and could drive home quickly if her uncle needed her. Right after she’d put her uncle in memory care and sold the house, Dane had given up that office. Then he’d offered her a place in each of his homes—always a massive suite that was as big as an apartment. He’d helped her pay for her uncle’s care.
He’d done so many kind and thoughtful things for her, many of which she hadn’t even recognized. When she’d called him with the news that her uncle was near the end, he’d rushed to her side without hesitation. He’d stayed with her, held her, comforted her.
She pulled her flannel pajamas from the bureau. Even though it was early May, English nights could be cool. She climbed into bed, then tugged the covers to her chin. Wrapping her arms around the stuffed dinosaur—of course she’d brought it with her—she hugged it as if it were Dane, while Rex curled into the crook at the backs of her knees.
So many times, Dane had gone above and beyond for her. He was her best friend, always there. At the barbecue, he’d noticed she was feeling bad and followed her into the house. He’d held her so tenderly, never asking a thing from her. Her grief at the time had been all about him, about realizing what she wanted from him, about knowing what she’d never have. But he’d thought she was grieving for her uncle, and he’d held her.
He said they could make a relationship work. But they had such a good working relationship now. She lay in bed, not thinking about that night or how beautifully he’d made love to her, but about the intervening years.
And she saw everything he hadn’t said. He hadn’t said he loved her, yet she could see now he’d actually told her in a zillion different ways. Even if he didn’t realize it himself. She couldn’t live without him. She needed his big, beautiful hugs and his steady reassurance that told her how special she was to him.
She could go on being afraid that it might end badly. That she wasn’t good enough.
But what if their relationship wasn’t damaged? What if he could love her?
Lying in her lonely bed, she spoke aloud. “We’ve both been such dummies.”
And she left T. Rex sleeping peacefully.
* * *
Dane paced the room, strategizing like an army general. “By God, I will not fail at this. She will be mine, and I’ll be hers.”
He wanted nothing more than to race down the hall and knock on her bedroom door. To make love to her the way he’d thought about all the years they’d lived under the same roof, and even before. To feel her skin beneath his fingertips, her lips against his, her body taking him to all the places he’d dreamed of.
But she needed to make the next move. He knew in his gut it was the only way it could work. He could knock on her door, and she’d probably let him in. She’d probably even let him make love to her again if he pushed.
But that would be her letting him. Him pushing her. Instead of her wanting it as urgently as he did. And choosing what she wanted.
He was thinking so hard he almost didn’t hear the soft knock. Then he thought it had to be his imagination. But who wouldn’t let his fantasy walk right through the door? He hurried to answer it.
She wore the most adorable flannel pajamas with polar bears all over them. They made him want to gather her up and kiss her senseless.
But she was already talking. Even as badly as he wanted to shower her with kisses, he needed to hear every word.
“You’ve been my whole world for so many years,” she told him, her eyes wide, their soft jade color darkened almost to emerald.
His body wanted to burst into flames. His heart wanted to soar into the night.
“In every way but one.” Her gaze traced the contours of his face. “And I’m ready—really, really ready—to fix that.” After only one step into his room, she added, “You’re the missing piece of my puzzle.”
If a heart could burst wide open and spill over the floor at her feet, his did right then.
He got everything she was saying, totally. She’d thought of him for the past twelve years, just as he’d dreamed of her. She hadn’t said she loved him. He couldn’t say he loved her. But he could show her in every way possible.
He grabbed her up in his arms, holding her tight. His hands on her rear, she hooked her legs around his waist, and he whispered, “You have no idea how many nights I’ve dreamed of this.”
She bent her head for a kiss so gentle and so sweet, it felt like butterfly wings caressing him. Then she opened her mouth and delved deep into his inner being. A wealth of emotion, so much bigger than anything he’d ever felt in his life, welled up inside him. And he took her mouth as if he’d never kissed anyone before, as if she was the only one he’d ever kiss again.
Memories were supposedly so much more poignant than reality. You built them up in your mind, turned them into something reverential. Yet her lips were softer than they’d ever been. Her skin beneath the pajama top was smoother than he’d ever imagined. Her legs around his waist were tighter, begging him, owning him before he’d even entered her.
He felt more powerful than he ever had in his life as he carried her to his bed.
“Nothing could be sweeter than your taste.” He let her fall to the bed and came down on top of her. She was so delicate beneath him and so strong.
He’d heard her siren’s call for the last twelve years. And now he would make her his.
Her eyes were bright in the dim light of the lamp by the door, but he wanted more light. He wanted to see every inch of her. The last time, they’d done things in the dark. But he never wanted to be in the dark with her again. So he reached past her to flip on the bedside lamp, bathing her in soft golden light.
“I want to touch you everywhere. I need to taste every part of you.”
She blinked. And then she whispered, her voice husky, sexy, “What are you waiting for?”
A piece of him wanted to go absolutely wild. But another, bigger part wanted to slow everything down and savor each moment.
“It’s going to be so much better than before.” He reached between them and flicked open the buttons of her polar bear pajama top. Instead of going for the gold, he trailed his fingers across her cheek, nibbled the tender flesh of her lobe, licked the shell of her ear.
Cammie shivered, reminding him of how much she liked that, how delicate and sensitive her ears were. With one last lick and a warm breath, he whispered, “There’s so much more of you I want to see.”
He kissed her neck down to the slope of her shoulder. He licked the hollow of her throat, and lying between her legs, he felt her thighs tighten around him in need.
They hadn’t talked much the last time, but now he wanted nothing more than to hear her voice. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll do it.”
Her words were a hoarse murmur. “Touch me.”
He trailed his fingers to the tip of her breast, circled the tight bead until she gasped. “Taste me.”
Then she pushed him, her hand on the back of his head, guiding him down to where she wanted him. And that was something totally new as well. Before, she hadn’t told him what she wanted, either with words or actions—but then, he hadn’t asked.
“Anything you want.” He looked up at her as he moved down her body. “Everything you want.”
He closed his lips around the pearl of her breast, sucking her into his mouth, worrying her with his tongue until she writhed beneath him.
She gasped. “Dane, please.”
As he spread her pajama top wide, he moved to the other peak, taking it deep, reveling in her breathy whisper of his name. Twelve years ago, there’d been no names, and it had been freaking sexy. But this was so much hotter. And he was so much harder.
“Every inch of you,” he whispered.
He tasted, licked, caressed all that beautiful, smooth, delicate skin, from her breasts all the way to her belly button, where a gentle lick made her laugh.
Her laugh could make a man lose everything.
Then he reached the tie of her pajama bottoms. And he looked at her.
He hadn’t asked permission last time. And he didn’t need it now—at least, not the words—because her scent told him how ready she was. But he wanted her to ask. He needed to know they were in this together.
“Tell me what you want.” Shifting slightly to the side, he laid his hand just above her sex.
“I want you to pleasure me. I want it so badly,” she said on a shaky breath. Then, on a whimper of need, she added, “If you don’t do it, I’ll have to do it myself.”
Amazing visions floated through his mind, of her dreaming of him, of all those nights when she’d been just down the hall from him. Of her needing him, imagining that it was his touch on her body. Of her crying out his name.
He should have known, should have felt the power of her thoughts. Maybe he had. Maybe that’s why he dreamed of her every night. Yes, every single damned night since she’d come to work for him. Even if he’d told himself it couldn’t possibly be that often.
He slid off the bed, kneeling between her spread thighs as Cammie propped herself on her elbows to look at him.
She hadn’t watched all those years ago. She’d loved it, lost herself in it, but she hadn’t watched. And there was something so hot about her gaze on him now, something so erotic.
He slowly drew the polar bear pajamas down her legs, throwing them aside until only her panties remained. The damp patch between her legs beckoned him, and instead of tearing them off, he leaned over her, breathed warm air on the fabric, covered her with his mouth. She ground against him, and he took her that way, right through her panties, reveling in her taste, her scent, her moisture, her heat.
As sweet she’d been then, she was sweeter now. As wet as she’d been then, she was wetter now. As hot as she’d been, she was on fire now.
He couldn’t wait another moment. Ripping the panties off her, he took her with his lips and his tongue the way he’d dreamed of so many times.
* * *
Cammie cried out his name the moment his mouth found her and his tongue delved deep.
He’d been so good before—no one had ever been better. His touch had burned itself into her brain. His taste had lived inside her, his scent filling her head whenever she closed her eyes and thought of that night.
But his mouth on her now was like nothing she’d ever felt before. Maybe it was all the years she’d dreamed of it. Wanted it. Needed it. He clamped his big warm hands on her derriere and lifted her so he could taste more and more of her.
And she watched, relishing the sight of his dark head between her thighs, his closed eyes as he drank her in, his powerful shoulders spreading her thighs wide. Entering her with two blunt fingers, he flipped her world upside down. Just the right touch. So perfect. So—oh my God—
His mouth buried against her, he opened those blue, blue eyes.
And she exploded, crying out his name, chanting, “Dane, Dane, Dane.”
She’d made sounds for him before, moans, groans, sighs, but now, with his mouth on her, his fingers inside her, his tongue playing her, her cries slammed up into the ceiling, raining down on her again.
And she came for him endlessly.