Page 115 of Kiss Me Like You Mean It

Nico gives her a grateful smile. ‘I’ll quickly look in…’ He gestures towards Phoebe’s door.

Claudia and I watch him go. ‘He’s such a great dad,’ she says, her eyes soft.

‘He really is.’

‘I always knew he would be.’ Claudia looks suddenly sad. ‘Nothing like his own father. He loves that little girl so much.’

‘She loves him, too.’

The wistful expression disappears, and Claudia smiles. ‘She does. But then, how could she help it? My son is a very loveable man…’ The look she gives me is arch.

Thankfully, we’re interrupted by Nico coming back into the room.

‘Did she wake up?’ Claudia asks.

‘For a second,’ Nico grins. ‘But she’s back out like a light. Taco’s all snuggled up with her. I take it from the state of her walls you two had a good night… Who exactly is Patty Felton and how did she earn a spot on the grudge list?’

Claudia’s alligator grin widens. ‘A ghastly woman who has outbid me at the last three auctions I’ve attended. She follows me around and then jumps in with all that gauche crypto money her husband makes or downloads or however it works.’ Claudia sniffs. ‘I guess you can’t buy good taste so she’s always trying to steal mine. Anyway, Phoebe and I had a great time discussing vendettas and plans for vengeance.’

Nico groans. ‘I don’t think I want to know.’

‘No, no.’ Claudia is airy. ‘Phoebe had some excellent ideas. She definitely takes after me. Apparently Magda is very love and light about things, which I find so admirable, but ultimately very unsatisfying, don’t you think? Anyway, my sweet ones, I’m sure you’re dying to get to bed.’ This last line is delivered with all the subtlety of a brass marching band, and she winks as she throws a giant cashmere pashmina around herself. ‘And Bud is still outside waiting for me. Such an intelligent man, we do have the most insightful conversations. Goodnight!’

She shuts the door behind her, and the house falls silent.

In the quiet, the throb of my own heartbeat rings in my ears; my skin suddenly feels too tight. All the tension that tangled between us in the back of the cab comes rushing back in an instant.

When I glance at Nico he’s running his eyes over me like he has a list of wicked things he wants to do and a pretty good idea of where he’s going to start.

I don’t say anything, can’t say anything. I only turn and head for the bedroom. Nico follows in silence, his steps unhurried. I shiver, but don’t let myself turn around, totally aware of his presence.

I stop by the foot of the bed, my gaze unfocused on the sheets and my heart hammering. I realise I’m nervous. The anticipation that has been building all night… it feels brand new. It feels like the first time. There’s the sharp click of a lock turning.

When I turn to face him, Nico’s eyes are dark. ‘It’s lucky that this place was part of the inn,’ his voice is low, ‘or I’d have had to fit a lock myself. Now I have you where I want you. No interruptions.’

He takes another step towards me, nudges me backwards so that my legs hit the edge of the bed.

‘Oh?’ I look up at him. ‘And what exactly do you have planned?’

His smile unfurls slowly. ‘I have some thoughts.’

Lowering to his knees in front of me, he runs one warm hand down my leg, rumbling his approval at the feeling of the soft suede under his fingertips.

‘But if you want me to touch you then you’re going to have to be quiet.’ Slowly, he traces the seam of the fabric along the inside of my calf. ‘Do you think you can do that?’

‘Yes,’ I whisper, wetting my lips. Phoebe’s room might be on the opposite side of the house, but I know we have to keep the noise down.

‘These shoes,’ he says almost absently. ‘I still remember when I first saw you in Vegas, sitting at the bar, flirting with the bartender in your fuck-me heels. I wanted to punch that guy in the face.’

‘If it helps,’ I manage, ‘I was very bad at flirting.’

Amusement flickers across his face. ‘Sit on the edge of the bed,’ he demands, and when I do, he eases my right shoe off, pressing his thumb into the arch of my foot in a way that has my eyes fluttering shut. ‘I don’t know how you walk in these things.’

‘Practice,’ I smile as he repeats the action, his big, warm hand wrapping around my other foot. He stands up, towering over me.

‘I’ve thought a lot about this,’ Nico murmurs. ‘About fucking my wife in our bed.’

My breath catches. His wife. He says the words as if he likes the feel of them in his mouth. I let myself fall a bit further into the fantasy. Nico’s wife. For the next week that’s what I am. I’m not going to let worries about the future ruin this, I decide, and I feel fiercely protective of this moment, like some sort of feral Zen master. I’m living in the now, and the now is spectacular.