Page 69 of Tears of Glass

I’m gobsmacked. “You’re going to give up law? What the hell will your mother say? She’s going to hate me even more.”

His kiss is sweet and hot, teasing and delicate. Everything all at once.

“So you’re actually...” I need to clarify this properly, and for once it’s worth breaking the kiss for, “going to paint? Be part of the show?”

“Angela thinks we have a good dynamic.”

I laugh so loud I think they can hear it out on the street below. “You mean, you piss me off and I smash stuff?”

“That.”

“Really? But what about the people you help? They aren’t going to go away. Can you turn away from them?”

“Faith,” His low voice makes my stomach squeeze. “I’ve been existing my whole life until the day I met you. Now I want to live.”

I open my mouth to speak, but he steals a kiss. What begins as an innocent sweep of his mouth turns deeper. One hand twists in my hair while the other cradles my jaw, his thumb running along the edge. I’m hot and melting, my fingers in his hair, running along the back of his neck, brushing the soft golden skin.

“We need to get back to the hotel now.”

He smiles against my mouth. “You want me.”

Our eyes meet, gazes locked and determined. “Always.”

And I know this is the truth. And I know he is right. All my rules, all the things I’ve known, they are far behind me and with him I can create something new.

I break out of his hold and hold my hand for his. “Come, we can talk in the hotel.”

He smiles, his lips holding a delicious curve. “Once you’ve screamed my name.”

My insides squeeze. “Once I’ve done that, yes.”

His hands trail my spine and I’m wondering if it’s the best sensation I have yet to experience. His fingertips draw lazy patterns across the patterns I already have there. “What did you have planned for the house?” Rue de Verde even the name of the road speaks to me.

He rolls towards me and I wiggle closer. His skin is warm and it feels heavenly next to mine. I breathe in deep, filling my head with his scent of faded aftershave, soap and sex. “Basically, I plan to give you the keys and leave you to it.”

“What?” I lean up on my elbow. “What do you mean? I don’t know anything about decorating and I don’t know a word of French—I’d be no help at all.”

His arms snake around my waist and he slides me on top of him. A tingling fire of desire ignites between my legs. I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of him. Even tired and sore, my body aching from our time together, I still want more. Still want him in me, filling me with everything he has.

Conversation stops for a deep kiss. Who needs to talk anyway?

Then I have another thought—why can’t I switch my brain off?

“You don’t want me in France and you in London, do you?” My heart pounds even thinking about that scenario.

He shakes his head, his lips on my throat sucking and nibbling until I want his hands between my legs and his tongue back in my mouth.

He pulls away and the blues settle on my face. “No. From the meetings I’ve had with Angela it can take a while to get a project like this off the ground. They need to seek out people who want to take part. There are all sorts of insurances that have to be taken care of. We’ve got months until it starts to move forward.”

I think of the house. If it wasn’t for Elijah making me all hot and squidgy on the inside, I’d want to walk back there right now and start cleaning the place.

“I need to work out what I’m going to do in the meantime. I can’t sit around doing nothing until the project takes off.” I flop my head onto his shoulder. Why don’t I have any plans? It’s ridiculous, my life basically stopped after the night of the ball. I just went back to Brighton, to the only thing I know. Ink.

But I don’t want to be her anymore. I promised Al I’d aim for more.

The thought of Al kills the burning longing in the pit of my tummy and I slide to one side, resting my cheek on Elijah’s chest, my fingers running through the smattering of hair on his firm pecs.

“You okay?” He kisses the top of my head.