Her gaze turns to the stack of papers. “Is that from Edward, then?”
“In a manner of speaking. Actually I purchased the property from him, because I had to make sure he would go through with it. I’ll transfer the deed into your name as soon as the lawyer can arrange it. Then it will be yours.”
“You mean I’m going to buy it from you?”
“No, Bea. It’s a gift. There are no strings attached.”
Her mouth drops open. “I could never accept a gift that big.”
It has to be this way. For her, so she is never coerced into anything she doesn’t want, never fearful of it. And for me, because I don’t know how to offer anything but this. “It’s already yours in all but name, Bea. The title is only to make sure you’re safe.”
She takes a step closer, standing right in front of me now. “I’m already safe. If you own L’Etoile then I’m safe here, with you.”
I’m moved that she has such confidence in me. “I never want you to doubt it.”
“I’ll take the hotel from you if that’s what you want. I would be happy to do that. The building may be old and kind of, you know, gaudy, but I love it. And I love the people here.”
“Good.”
“But it will be a purchase. Not a gift.”
I open my mouth to object, but to be fair, the woman probably has more money than God. Then why does it make me feel like I’m crawling out of my skin to accept? Like I’m losing far more than the woman I care about. “Non.”
“Oui,” she says, implacable.
I’m not above pleading, at least not with her. “Bea, you must understand how much I’ve come to care about you. It’s not like the other women. They aren’t even—”
For maybe the first time since I moved here I struggle for words.
She smiles a little. “I know.”
That makes me pause. “You know?”
“You make your own kind of music. Not with your fingers on the keys. With your whole body. I thought I was just imagining it. After all, what did I know? I was a virgin. I don’t know how it usually is between a man and a woman. But I know about music. You can’t fake that kind of passion.”
I breathe out in relief, that she understands what I could not find the words to say. There is too much in my past to love easily, or lightly, the grooves run too deep. I speak with my body instead, and in that language, Bea is an unexpected prodigy.
I give her a small bow. “In that case I accept your terms. You will buy the hotel.”
“And I hope you will come visit me here.”
My throat becomes tight. I would give almost anything to be with Bea, but I’m not sure I could handle being paid for the honor. Not anymore. “In a professional capacity?”
“If that’s the only way I can have you, yes.” She swallows hard. “But I’m going to be honest with you, even though it terrifies me. It terrifies me more than taking a cab to your loft, which was a lot. I want more than that. I want everything.”
“Everything?” It seems impossible that I could have this. For so long I lived only for revenge. And for pleasure. I thought that would be enough until I met Bea.
She made me realize I want more than that. “What you said in the shower,” I say, gruff.
Her lips twist into a secret feminine smile, and for the first time in my life I feel my skin flush hot. Am I blushing? Mon Dieu. She really has ruined me for anyone else. “I think I asked you to be rough with me.”
“Something else,” I say, though I’m dangerously close to being rough with her on the dining table. There is only one thing I want more than sex with her right now.
“That you should make yourself feel good,” she says, letting the sheet fall away from her body.
“Minx,” I say on a groan. “Witch. Siren. You said something else to me.”
“Whatever you want,” she whispers.
And then I take her in my arms. “Everything. Mon Dieu, I want everything with you.”
She wraps her arms around my neck and gives me all of that and more. The fire in her wild hair, the freckles scattered across her body. The acceptance in her beautiful moss eyes. There is a whole universe waiting for us, and we find it one star at a time.
Chapter Twenty-One
The night sky stretches to infinity, but the moment is almost unbearably intimate. We are lying on the rooftop, naked but for a lace-edged sheet we stole from her bed. Bea’s body is slung over mine, her hair a pleasant cloud of sensation against my neck. Her hand plays idly over my chest, tugging lightly at the springy hair, tracing down the muscles of my abs.
“Are you sad?” she asks. “About Edward?”
“He lost his hold on you. That’s enough.” It’s more than whatever wealth he has in the world, actually. More precious than gold. Though nothing will ever be punishment enough for what he did to my mother. So I suppose it’s fitting he gave up something priceless. “The truth is I feel more guilty than anything.”
“About Melissande. Has she called you again?”
“No.” I stare at the sky, which feels heavier when I think about her. “Not since I gave her a few thousand to start over somewhere else.”
“What she did was wrong, Hugo. Selling children. You were a child, too, Hugo, when she took advantage of you. She didn’t deserve your loyalty.”
“Loyalty is a strange thing. It doesn’t always need an excuse. In the case of Melissande, she took me from a place where I had no future and turned me into something women paid thousands of dollars to spend time with.”
Anger flashes through Bea’s green eyes, which are usually so calm. “She has no idea what you’re worth. She never did.”
Bemusement is a warm fire in my chest. “You are kind, mon amie.”
“Yes, that’s me. Kind and so incredibly selfless that I’m willing to spend my nights with the most sought-after man in Tanglewood, that I’m willing to have this body—” She walks her fingers down my abdomen. My cock is a predictable creature. It becomes hard beneath the blanket, despite the number of times I’ve taken her this night. “—bring me pleasure.”
A small laugh. “If there’s one thing I’ve taught you it’s to appreciate pleasure.”
“You taught me more than that,” she says suggestively, and I know she’s thinking of the rather athletic round of sex we had after our picnic of grapes and manchego.
I touch my finger to the bronze of her eyebrows, tracing them. “While you have learned your lessons well, there is still plenty more to teach.”
“Oh?” she asks, her lips forming a perfect peach circle.
“I expect we will spend many nights on the rooftop.”
She laughs. “I thought you were the one who wanted me to leave the hotel.”
“Oui, but you have taught me things as well. For example, you taught me to appreciate staying between these four walls.” It has been three days since I signed over L’Etoile to her. Since that time I have not left. There has been only sex and talking and the occasional break for delicious food. “Perhaps we will leave next week. Where would you like to go?’