BEFORE THEY LEFT, Amelia tried to convince her father to move to Vancouver. He wanted to stay in his home and continue to see his friends every day, but he agreed to visit soon.
Wistful, Amelia hugged him goodbye and left for Toronto with Hunter.
“You’ll have time to pop out and see him again before we go back to Vancouver,” Hunter reminded in a consoling tone. “Would you feel better if we moved here so you would be closer to him?”
“I’m not sure. I like Vancouver.” She had started to make a network of friends there through a baby group. “But I worry about Dad feeling lonely, even though I think he found it stressful for us to live with him. He felt a lot of responsibility to provide for Peyton and keep up with her, but he’s not as spry as he was when Jasper and I were her age.”
“That’s why he found the man who is responsible for her,” Hunter noted. “I’m glad he did.” He looked down at Peyton with such tenderness, Amelia’s heart fluttered. “We don’t really have to decide until she starts school, but give it some thought.”
“Are you being considerate? Or do you really not care where we live?” It seemed laughable to her that he would leave such a huge decision up to her.
“Both. I can tell that your father’s house is what home means to you—retreat, security. Memories, I suppose.” He shrugged. “You want to be deliberate about where you make one with me and Peyton so you can foster those same things, but I don’t have that same desire for attachment to the place where I sleep. Comfort and convenience are my priorities.”
Because he didn’t have any good memories of home?
She felt such pity for the child he’d been, unable to be a child who felt safe and happy in the place where he slept.
“What?” His gaze sharpened and his expression stiffened at whatever he read in her eyes.
“Nothing.” She looked away, hiding the melancholy she felt on his behalf. “I’m just wondering if I’m comfort or convenience?”
He snorted and picked up her hand to kiss her knuckle. “You’re the luxury touch that makes one place more appealing than another.”
“Ooh. Nice recovery,” she teased.
They arrived at the penthouse then and kicked off a busy schedule of Hunter disappearing for meetings and other work commitments while Amelia planned dinner parties and attended engagements with him most nights.
When she had a moment, she conducted a discreet search online to see if Remy and Eden were in town. They seemed to be in France, and Amelia wasn’t sure if she was relieved by that or not. Hunter was still being circumspect about that strange twist, but when Amelia looked at photos of Eden, the other woman looked so beautiful and put together, Amelia felt inadequate all over again.
She was getting better at this role of society wife, though. She enjoyed hosting a dinner for some of Hunter’s executives and meeting their spouses. Thanks to her father, she was enough of a basketball fan that, when she and Hunter were invited to watch a game from the private box of a famous rap star, she had a great time.
Still pondering whether to make Toronto their home, she arranged a brunch for a handful of her old friends. She had lost touch with many of them in the last couple of years. They had finished school and started their careers while she had stayed home with her new baby and concentrated on finding Jasper.
It was fun to catch up, but she felt...different. Not better or worse than any of them. She was picking up the bill with a credit card her husband had given her and she didn’t have a job of her own, so their opinion of her could have gone either way, but she knew she wasn’t the person they had known a year ago. Jasper had changed her. Peyton had. Hunter had.
She had been raised to be independent, yet she relied on him. He could have made her feel small or resentful of that, especially after the way she had ruined his life plan with Eden, but he empowered her with decisions like where they would live. He made an effort to do his share with Peyton, saying, “I’ll bathe her,” leaving her to finish her book.
And sometimes, he did ridiculous things to spoil her, like when he took her to a charity gala aboard a restored tall ship in the harbor.
Amelia was feeling proud of her marriage and confident in her new self. She wore a sassy gold evening gown with a cutout at her cleavage. The skirt turned to fringe past her knees, showcasing her sling-back brass-colored sandals. Her hair was in a loose topknot with a few tendrils around her face, something that drew Hunter’s gaze to her diamond stud earrings right before he made an obscene bid for a pair of chandelier earrings set with a half dozen pear-shaped yellow sapphires.
“You just called them gorgeous,” he said when she nearly choked on her champagne. “They would suit that gown better than the ones you’re wearing, and it’s a good cause. You want to support them, don’t you?”
“As if I could say no when you put it like that.” The charity was a children’s hospital foundation. It was a very good cause.
“Okay, then. Buck up and accept them.”
What an absurd man. She had to laugh as she leaned into him, giddy. It wasn’t the earrings. It was the way he looked at her with amused affection while making his illogical argument, as though he knew how to tickle her funny bone and was smug that he’d found it.
In that moment, she loved him so much, the declaration lifted like helium in her chest, expanding in her throat. The words formed against her tingling lips.
“I lo—”
“Amelia?” a male voice interrupted.
She drew back and turned with a polite smile that faltered as her new life collided with an old one she had escaped via a painful wormhole.
“Gareth. It’s nice to see you.” Not. She could have lived her whole life without ever seeing this particular man’s smarmy face again. He was handsome, no doubt about it. A regular Viking god with blond hair and golden stubble and a shiny tailored suit.
Most of the men had removed their jackets because the heat of the day lingered, even here on the water after the sun had gone down. Gareth still wore his double-breasted jacket buttoned closed, and Amelia knew why. His shoulders were padded and the cut gave him the wedge shape that he coveted, but didn’t naturally possess. Gareth was all about how things looked, his female companions being of particular importance to his controlling eye.
“This is my husband, Hunter Waverly,” Amelia said. “Gareth was a TA at my university.”
“Professor now,” Gareth said as he shook Hunter’s hand. “Philosophy and English Lit.”
“Ah. Good evening,” Hunter said in a circumspect tone that Amelia had learned to read. His instincts were far better than hers. He already saw Gareth for what he was. She had been far too easily impressed by Gareth’s superficial gleam.
She smiled at the woman by Gareth’s side, expecting him to introduce her.
Gareth continued holding Hunter’s cool stare. “It sounds like a quick trip to the altar. I’ve seen the news.” He shifted his razor-sharp gaze to Amelia. “And you have a baby? How did that happen?” He made it sound like friendly teasing, but Amelia was still sensitive to that honed edge in his “jokes.” How had Hunter pried open her legs, Gareth was asking.
She stifled a flinch of old scorn.
At the same time, she saw the young woman’s smile fading into insecurity at being overlooked. Amelia saw herself. The other woman was twenty if she was a day, exactly the age Amelia had been when Gareth had impressed her with parties like this. He didn’t have money, but he leaned on calculated social connections for invitations to things like this. He loved to seem wealthier and more popular than he really was. All of it was designed to elevate his ego and make others feel worthless.
“I’m Amelia.” She thrust out her hand at the woman. “How are you enjoying the evening?”
“Chelsea. Hi.” She grew flustered now that she’d been noticed.
“We’re having a great time,” Gareth said, throwing a possessive arm around Chelsea and speaking for her.
“You’re one of his students?” Hunter asked as though he already knew she must be.
“No!” Chelsea’s eyes widened in horror.
“It’s summer break,” Gareth reminded him smoothly. “We met at the end of last semester. She’s not going back so...”
So it was okay for him to prey on her, even though Amelia estimated their age difference to be at least twelve years. She had every confidence that Chelsea’s decision to put off going back to school had been Gareth’s decision more than her own.
“You’re enjoying the auction,” Gareth noted, narrowing his eyes at the bid sheet for the earrings. “Driving up the bids.” As usual, his tone said as he slid another look at Amelia.
What are you holding out for?
A future. Do you want to marry me or not?
Today, the idea of being married to Gareth made her sick. What a narrow escape she’d had! Poor Chelsea was still stuck in his quagmire, though.
“What were you studying?” Amelia asked her.
“Oh, um, marketing?” Chelsea flickered a glance at Gareth, who had no doubt been critical enough that she now questioned any passion or talent she’d had for the field.
“That’s good luck.” Amelia looped her hand around her husband’s arm. “Hunter was saying yesterday that there would be positions opening up at the Toronto office once the interns left in September. You should apply.”
“You should.” Hunter didn’t bat an eye at Amelia’s fabrication. He reached into his pocket for a business card. She had never felt so connected to him on a purely psychic level. “Call that number and leave your name with my assistant.”
“That’s not necessary.” Gareth tried to take the card.
Hunter held on to it and said very frostily, “I’m not talking to you.” Ever, was the implied period on that sentence.
“Thank you.” Chelsea swallowed and read the card.
Amelia instinctually knew Chelsea was memorizing the number because she fully expected Gareth to take it from her, costing her an opportunity.
“DM me on social media if you lose that,” Amelia said with a warm smile. “It will take me a few days to get back to you because I don’t check it myself. Some people are trolls.” She dropped her smile and looked to Gareth. “Would you excuse us? I should check with our nanny.” It had become her code to Hunter that she wanted out of a given conversation.
“Let’s find a quiet corner. Good night.” He nodded at Chelsea and turned away from Gareth without another look.
Hunter was jealous. It was a new color on him and one he didn’t care for. At all. Especially because it wasn’t even warranted. It had been plain as day to him that Amelia couldn’t stand her ex. Also, he knew for a fact that her physical relationship with that egomaniac hadn’t been as intimate as the one he currently enjoyed with her.
Even so, she had given that other man enough of her heart to leave it bruised. He recalled her talking about how Gareth had controlled and manipulated her. She gave that other man time he hadn’t valued. Time he hadn’t deserved.
Hunter wanted that time back. For her and for himself.
He was affronted, too. Disgusted that a professor had moved on her. He remembered her vaguely mentioning he was a TA during that first meeting with Carina, but it had slipped his mind with so many other things going on. And maybe Gareth had been a teaching assistant at the time and not on her course, but it still seemed wrong. Hunter was already planning to make a call to the chancellor. His family name was on the business program, and he signed off on generous donations every year. He sure as hell wouldn’t be associated with a school that allowed its faculty to con students into dropping out so they could screw them.
“I feel like I should apologize,” Amelia said as she returned to the bedroom from feeding Peyton. Their daughter had seemed to sense their return, waking as Amelia had been changing out of her gown. She had hurried down the hall in her robe, hair still up and jewelry still on.
“I feel like I should apologize,” Hunter muttered. “He’s the kind of man who makes all of us look like scumbags.”
“He makes me appreciate that you’re not like him. You must be wondering how I could have had anything to do with him, though.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and removed her earrings, dropping them into the dish on the bedside table.
“I know how,” he said with a snort. “You were young and inexperienced and kind. You give people the benefit of the doubt, always wanting to see the best in them. It annoys the hell out of me that he took advantage of that.”
“That’s a nice thing to say. I think.” Her lips wobbled in a rueful smile. She looked at her fingers as she worked her engagement ring off. “I was gullible, but I became cynical after I stopped seeing him. I didn’t believe any man was who he pretended to be.”
“Is that what you thought when we met? That I was pretending to be someone else?”
“Kind of. I knew who you were so I knew you were rich, but I didn’t think you were rich like this.” She looked to the ceiling. “When I got into your room, I thought you had only booked it to impress whatever woman you brought back to it.”
“I wasn’t planning to bring anyone back to it,” he said, insulted.
“I know that now.” She lifted a shoulder. “And at least you were up-front about your lack of intentions.”
“That wasn’t my best moment,” he noted with self-disgust. “I shouldn’t have invited you to my room at all. We weren’t as equal as I thought at the time.” Virgin. He still couldn’t fully grasp it. “I can’t help feeling I took advantage of you.”
“No, that’s the thing. It was the first time a man had made a move on me who wasn’t trying to make me feel guilty if I refused. I genuinely knew it was my choice whether to go with you or not. Weirdly, I felt like if I said no, I would be saying no to myself. It’s hard to explain. I just knew I would regret it more if I didn’t go with you than if I did. I had never felt like that with anyone else.”
“Then you did regret it because you thought I was trying to pay you for it.”
“I did hate you a little bit for that,” she admitted, pulling her hair free. “It confirmed my worst suspicions of men, but thinking the worst becomes a habit that paves a straight road to despair and depression. With Jasper missing, I needed hope. I made myself look for the good in life. REM-ex gave us the runaround, but so many of our neighbors and friends were supportive and generous. Then Peyton became such a blessing. She’s a little joy machine, so how could I stay a pessimist?”
“True.” He chuckled, but drily. Amelia might have been disillusioned by Gareth, but Hunter hadn’t exactly redeemed his sex. “I was in a terrible headspace last year. Still grieving Dad and even though I wasn’t the least bit surprised by Irina going after the company, I couldn’t believe it went as far as it did, legally. There was even a part of me that thought, hell, take it. The idea of not being responsible for Wave-Com sounded like heaven.”
“You did mention that you were grumpy. Maybe Remy said that.” She fiddled with the tail on her robe’s belt. “I just remember Cheryl and Remy doing all the talking while I sat there wondering if you were interested in me at all.”
“That’s funny.” He released a gust of laughter as it suddenly came back to him. “I remember waiting for you to show some sign of interest. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m rich and reasonably good-looking. I make great babies that come with all the latest features.”
She snorted. “That is news to me.”
“I’m used to women making it clear when they’re interested, but you played it pretty damned cool.”
“Oh? Tell me more about the women who come on to you. Maybe text it from one of the other bedrooms,” she suggested with a flutter of her lashes and a sugary smile.
He ignored that. “Your friend was throwing herself at Remy, but you were quieter. When you did speak, you were funny, but you didn’t say much about yourself. I wanted to know more. That’s why I suggested we walk down to the water after they left. All you said was that it was a pretty night.”
“Oh, gosh. Big surprise you weren’t interested in more than a night with that brilliant conversation going on,” she muttered with self-deprecation.
“No. I remember thinking how refreshing it was.” He had the sense of a time slip. For a moment, he was there on the shore with her, coated in quiet blue light. “Everyone wants something from me.” Attention or money or favors. Conversation. A diaper change, he thought ironically. “Even Remy, with the best of intentions, insisted I give myself a break to golf with him. You said it was a pretty night. It was a simple observation that didn’t require me to agree or decide or do anything except stand in it with you. That made you precious.”
He had held her hand, and there had been music in the distance and sweetness on the breeze. It had been the first time since childhood that he’d felt so unencumbered. So at ease.
Then they had kissed, and his brain had wanted to know her better in the more biblical sense.
The way she was looking at him made his heart seesaw in his chest. Having her in his life was like having potent wine and spring sunshine and hope on tap at all times.
Skepticism had been his stalwart friend for so long, he didn’t know how to replace it with her, but he wanted to. She was softness and peace, and she brought light into the gloomy caverns inside him. She was a gift, and he didn’t know how to make her understand how precious she was except to show her.
Hunter pressed his mouth to hers in the most tender way, achingly gentle so Amelia felt like the most treasured thing in existence. He cradled the back of her head and worshipped her with his touch, shaping the hills and dips of her figure, setting small fires across her skin that licked their way into her erogenous zones.
They made love often, but this was the first time it felt like love. As she basked in the sweet way he kissed across her cheek to her ear, as he blew softly against her neck and made her hair stand on end, she closed her eyes and pressed more deeply into him.
It meant so much to her that he’d wanted to know more about her. Her. Their baby might have brought them back together, but their connection had been there from the beginning, the tiny, barely visible strands as strong as they were fragile. Precious.
When his lips came back to hers, she poured her soul into their kiss. Her passion. Her love. It felt so good to let it release without fear, holding nothing back.
His chest expanded as though he felt it. He squashed her breasts as he held her closer and deepened their kiss. She swore she could feel his heart pounding behind his rib cage, matching the urgency that was taking hold in her quickening blood.
This moment felt urgent yet not. She needed more of him. All of him. But they had their whole lives to discover every last thing about each other. They were still learning how to share their bodies and their hearts, and this was one of those times where they had moved into a new level of intimacy. Of caring and adoration.
Maybe he felt the same contradictory urges. He yanked at his shirt, then jerked open her belt, dragging her bared chest into contact with his.
She shivered and went on tiptoe, offering a deeper kiss, accepting his tongue and rubbing her hips against the steely shape behind his fly. She wanted him to know what he did to her. Only him. It had to be him.
“I want to be inside you,” he rasped as he skated his damp lips down her throat. “I could lose myself in you. I really could.”
“Yes.” That’s what she wanted, for all of him to overwhelm her. Fill her up and dissolve any barriers between them. “I’m yours.” Be mine.
They skimmed away their clothes, and he pressed her to the mattress beneath his naked heat. She opened her legs in welcome, but he only guided himself against her wet folds, teasing and readying both of them before he slowly entered her.
They both released shaken sighs as he sank deep and held himself there.
Now the urgency subsided. They were where they needed to be. She looked at him through vision that was hazed by love and lust. His green-gray eyes were equally glazed by passion, and his kiss was soft again. Tasting of benediction.
Now they existed in a place of pleasure and profound connection. Love. She loved him so much. And he was hers. Forever. She stroked her hands possessively across his shoulders and traced her fingers down his spine, smiling when she caused him to draw a breath of delight. She rolled her thumb across his nipple and slid her hand to where they were joined, making him growl as she played her hand there, pleasuring them both.
“You’ll make me lose it before you’re even close,” he warned, dragging her hands up beside her head.
She would love to. Just once. “Would that be so bad?”
A shadow moved behind his glittering gaze, just enough to tell her that it would be. For him. She didn’t understand that reservation in him. Weren’t they surrendering to each other right now? Didn’t he trust her as completely as she trusted him?
She would have cupped his jaw, but he kissed her and began to move with more purpose. She groaned, luxuriating in the powerful way he thrust and withdrew, driving both of them toward the pinnacle.
This was all she needed in life, this man moving within her, making her feel exalted as he sent shuddering reverberations of pure joy through her nerves and muscles and blood.
“Hunter,” she gasped, arching in the throes.
“Let go, angel. Come so I can.”
As if she could hold back. She was there, clinging to him as her vision turned to gold and her skin caught fire and her inner being melded with his.
“I love you,” she cried as the world fell away and orgasm crashed onto her like a hundred-foot wave. “I love you. I love you.”
His answer was a tortured noise of agony and a crushing embrace as he pinned his hips to hers and his whole body shuddered in his own defeat.