“Now what?” she asked in a whisper. She didn’t trust herself to speak any louder.

“I love you. In whatever disguise you come to me, I love you. Whatever name you choose, I love you,” he repeated and his erotic assault began anew.

He flexed his hips faster and she buried her face in his arm. His movements were almost to the point of pounding inside of her. Her body tightened and strained for the climax just out of her reach.

“Now come for me, Zoe,” he said. “Show me with your body how much you love me, even if you can’t say the words.”

She did. Again and again.

***

After showing the contractor around the second floor of her house, Zoe headed out to the small balcony at the back. Feeling rather like Juliet, she leaned over the side and stared at her husband. His golden hair gleamed in the sun and his smile lit up the cloudless day.

“Romeo, Romeo,” she whispered.

Her Romeo worked alongside a landscaping crew as they expanded flowerbeds and added her favorite ornamental trees. He stopped long enough to have a few words with the contractor before the man left for the day.

Christian turned and shielded his eyes from the sun. He grinned at her, broke off a large snowball of a blossom and bounded toward her. “My Juliet. I would deny my father and be your sworn love,” he shouted and tossed the purple flower up in the air.

Catching it, she lifted the soft petals to her nose and breathed deeply. “Then I’m no longer a Capulet. I am,” she paused and stared down into his blue eyes. “Yours.”

He disappeared and she heard the screen door slam, his feet upon her stairs and she laughed with joy. She ran to meet him, colliding in the hall and they fell to the floor in a tangle of arms and clothes. And laughter.

“Happy to see your husband?”

“What took you so long?” she asked between kisses. “I had to wait ten whole seconds for you.”

“I’ll be prompt from now on.” His hand slid up her thigh. Her soft skin was silk and he was hard as steel.

“You’d better,” she whispered as his mouth found hers.

Chapter Thirty-Five

For a man who was used to not getting home until dawn and then sleeping the night off, mornings were quickly becoming Christian’s favorite time of day. Presently, he was tangled up in Zoe. His thigh wedged between hers, her arm under his neck and his around the sweet curves of her waist.

Placing soft kisses along her neck, he worked his way up to the rim of her ear and gently bit down. She practically purred in response and rubbed her bare breasts against his chest, her tight nipples scorching his skin.

“You’re going to be late, sweetheart.” He tightened his arms around her for a moment, then skimmed the sides of her body.

She sighed lustily. “Kiss me.”

He found her lips, her kisses drugging, addicting. Just like the first time. Just like every time. He wedged his thigh deeper, spreading her legs. They fell open. Moisture from her damp curls seeped into the skin of his thigh. “You’re wet for me.”

Her hand glided down to his groin, wrapping her fingers around the base of his cock and stroking. “Always.”

His cell rang, playing a specific ringtone, and he groaned. He had to answer this call. Reluctantly, he reached for it and said by way of apology, “It’s Martha. She’s threatened to cut me off if I don’t answer.”

“Please, she’s all bark and no bite.”

“That’s because she likes you,” he said with a laugh. “You don’t cause her problems. Just make her money.”

“I’m getting in the shower.” She slid from the bed and walked to the bathroom, casting a heavy-lidded look in his direction. “You can join me when you’re done.”

His cock twitched in response. Oh, he’d be there all right. He managed to press the talk button before the call went to voice mail. “Good morning, most brilliant of agents.”

“Do you plan to use your timely reunion with my niece to your advantage?” Martha’s gravelly voice came in loud and clear over the phone.

“Jesus, first Sasha and now you. Let me make this clear for all parties involved: I am not and will not use Zoe to advance my career or save my ass.” Silence met his statement.

Then he heard Brennen shout in the background, “Oh, come on, Violet. Stop doing that.”

“Brennen, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times: leave Violet alone. If she wants your help, she’ll ask for it,” Martha shouted back.

Holy hell, had the woman finally entered the twenty-first century and gotten a phone with speaker capabilities?

“But she keeps banging on the computer screen,” Brennen complained.

“I was pretending it was you,” came Violet’s saccharine reply.

“Ready and willing, lass,”

“Good God, I’m not running a daytime soap—or a daycare,” Martha groused. He heard a door slam. “Now back to you.”

“Thanks for remembering I’m here.” He flicked his eyes to the bathroom door. The shower was running and he could only imagine what his wife looked like with water glistening all over her curvy little body.

“You’re not going to like what I have to say. It won’t be pretty,” Martha said.

He exhaled as a knot formed in his gut. “It never is.”

***

Zoe found Christian in bed with his hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling, seemingly deep in thought. His golden chest gleamed in the morning sun, the rose tattoo a delicate contrast to the lean musculature of his body. He was almost too pretty, too beautiful for a man, and at times it made her completely self-conscious.

She rummaged through her dresser, searching for panties and a bra.

“Come here,” came Christian’s voice, low and sinful in the otherwise silent room.

After slipping on a pair of panties, she turned to face him. “I-I,” she stuttered, watching as he drew the covers down his body and peered through his gold tipped lashes at her. Pale blue eyes darkened and her heart did a summersault in her chest. He was hard and ready for her.

“Come here now.”

“But I’ll be late,” she protested weakly.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed. She backed against the wall, sliding along it as he advanced.

“I have other plans for you.” His gait was smooth. Lean hips rolling and thighs flexing in tandem.

Her eyes widen. “You already had your chance.”

She turned to run from him, but he caught her by the elbow. “Do you want me to chase you?” His grip tightened, then let her go. “Run, but be prepared for when I catch you.”

She gave a little laugh, but when she looked up at him, his face was dark, dangerous. Almost the same as when he found out about her lying to him. “Is there something wrong?”

He gave her a small nod. “Only you can fix it. Me.”

She laid her hand on his chest. His heart beat wildly beneath her fingertips. “You’re not broken,” she said firmly. What he needed was for someone to love him without conditions. Without throwing his past in his face. Or his bad decisions. The ring he placed in her jewelry box seemed to call to her. But it wasn’t time. Not yet. Not before she gave him one of his own.

“I’ve been dropped from your film, from every ad campaign and endorsement, and I’ve been asked to sever all ties with B.T.S. To say it was a rumor that I would be in the fall PSA’s. I was also outed as their anonymous donor. They don’t want my money anymore either. For all intents and purposes, I am persona non grata. Not that I can blame them.” His eyes dropped to the floor.

Zoe brushed back a lock of golden hair that had fallen over his brow. “But you’re their biggest donor.”

“I’m their biggest liability.”

“Well, it’s not right.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

His features smoothed out and it felt as if a great energy had left the room. His body. “Go to your dance class, love. I’ll be fine.”

“No, class can wait.” She grabbed his hand and led him back to their bed. She gestured for him to get in and climbed in after him. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him to her and stroked his hair. “Everything will be okay.” How her heart ached for him. She knew his career didn’t matter to him as much as working with B.T.S.

He let out a harsh laugh. “It’s not, love. Almost everything I care about has been taken from me and I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, tightening her arms around him. She could only imagine how he must be feeling. Everything he’d worked so incredibly hard for gone in a matter of the twenty minutes it’d taken her to shower. “We’ll get through this—together. Come what may.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice raw.

She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears for him. For his lack of confidence the world never saw or even imagined. For every mean thing his father had said or done to him. For his estranged relationship with his brother. For the mother that had deserted him.

“I’m getting out of my contract with Peak. If they don’t want you, then I don’t want them.”

“There’s no reason to do that,” he said. “Hold me instead.”

“I’ll never let you go,” she promised.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Leaving the antique store on Broad Street, Christian turned the package over and read the description on the back before righting it again. “I can’t believe you found them,” he said, awestruck.

“I’m so happy you like them.” Zoe gave him a big grin. “One of Mr. Nesbit’s contacts had it in his store in Manteo.”

“How long did it take to find them?” The PEZ Elvises tilted to one side. When she didn’t immediately answer, he stopped walking and grabbed her shoulder. “I have to know, love. I’ve looked for these for years.”

“Almost three weeks,” she said, quickly looking down.

“But that would mean you’d asked him right after I got here.”

A telltale blush stained her cheeks. “I called him after agreeing to your challenge.”

“You are incredibly sweet,” he said, dropping his hands. No one had ever given him a present like this. Not since his mother had started his collection and obsession with his first one. Christian rubbed the back of his head and winced.

“Still hurts?” she asked, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’d hoped the Elvis surprise would help with the pain. Not that I’d planned for you to be in pain after coming to my dance lessons.”

“I’ve a bloody knot. Who would’ve thought an eighty year old woman could have such a wicked curveball?” he mused. “And with a fuzzy slipper?”

“Miss Florence didn’t mean to hit you. She wanted to dance with a stud-muffin,” she teased.

“She was all hands. I felt like a piece of meat.” He shuddered, making her laugh until they came face to face with her ex. “Gabriel.” Always awkward running into an ex, but this guy was harmless when it came to Zoe. Christian didn’t get the I-want-my-woman-back vibe from him.

“Christian.” He gave them both a tight smile. “Zoe.”

“Hi, Gabe,” Zoe said.

Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not going to spy on you or do a tell-all.”

“Why would you?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

“But you’ve been asked,” Christian said, his suspicions confirmed. Call him a cynic but there were very few people in this world that would turn down millions of dollars for a few minutes of “work”.

Gabriel nodded once. “I can’t be bought.”

Score one for the good guys left in the world.

She gave Christian a wide-eyed look. “I didn’t think they’d bother anyone else.”

At that moment he felt ancient. “Love, they’d bother your grandmother on her deathbed.”

Gabriel shifted from side to side, his gaze to the street closet to them, Ivy Lane. “Thought you should know.”

“Thanks.” Christian meant it and maybe if he hadn’t been so in love with the woman at his side, or less selfish, he would tell her that she deserved a man like Gabriel.

Gabriel ambled away.

“Something’s wrong with him,” Zoe said as they walked to her car. “Before you came back, he wanted my advice on something.”

“You don’t know what?”

“No.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve only seen him like this once or twice before and each time it seemed to have something to do with—”

“I don’t care about his problems. All I care about is you” Christian crushed her to him, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sure Gabriel can figure out everything on his own.” He opened her door.

“I guess you’re right,” she said, then slid in the passenger seat.

He closed the door behind her and jogged around to the driver’s side. Once inside, he closed his door and buckled his seatbelt. “I have to go to Paris tomorrow. It’s been months in the making. A stag party for a certain ginger-haired prince.” The Camaro’s engine revved and he made a U-Turn in the street.

Her mouth fell open. “Prince Ha-”

He laughed. “No, not that one, but there’s every possibility you’ll eventually have to attend something with him there. My mother’s a Lady and my father claims the whole Romanov Prince bit. He even bought an English title and all its entailments.”