“I don’t blame you. I know I’m asking a lot, particularly because I’m not only asking you for another chance, but I’m asking for your complete and utter trust. I’m asking you to cede power to me. I’m asking for your submission—again.”
She swallowed and nodded, glad that at least he understood her conflict. And her fear.
He smoothed his fingers over her still-damp hair, his gaze so intent on her that she had no doubt of his sincerity.
“I want you, Callie. I want us. I want to see where this takes us. I’ve tried it without you. I was miserable, and I think you were too. I think we’re better together.”
“I want us too,” she whispered. “There’s so much to talk about, though. So much we didn’t cover in Europe. I don’t even know what you do. My family asked, and I felt like the worst sort of idiot. I know nothing about you. And yet you know so much about me.”
Max pressed his lips to her forehead in a gesture so tender that her chest tightened. “That is what this week is for, dolcezza . Us. So that when we go meet your family, there is no doubt to anyone looking at us that you’re happy and confident.”
Her heart fluttered at the endearment he’d teasingly begun when they were in Italy. He’d taught her words of love and affection in many languages, but dolcezza had been her favorite. His eyes always burned a little brighter when he called her that.
“And to begin our week, I want you naked. I love the feel of your skin. I love the beauty of your body. My desire is that when we are in private I am never deprived of your sweetness.”
He pulled gently at the tie and then helped her to her feet. He stood in front of her and carefully peeled away the robe until she was naked in front of him, her skin soft and warm from the shower.
“ Bellissima ,” he murmured. “You are very beautiful, dolcezza . Even more so because you’re mine.”
He reached for a comb lying on the end table and then sat back on the couch, spreading his thighs. He patted the space between his legs.
“Sit so I can comb your hair while it’s still damp.”
She turned and then settled on the edge of the couch. His hands slipped over her hips as he steadied her, and then they wandered up her waist and around to cup her breasts.
He toyed idly with her nipples until they were rigid, and then he slid his hands up over her shoulders and gathered her hair at her nape.
“I love having the freedom to touch you however and whenever I want.”
“You’re such a spoiled man,” she teased.
“When it comes to you, I am.”
“You’re such a caveman.”
“And this is a problem?” he asked as he began working the comb through the ends of her hair.
“Evidently not.” She sighed. “I can’t resist you even when your knuckles are dragging the ground and you grunt stuff like ‘my woman’.”
“Damn right you’re my woman. What else am I supposed to say?”
She chuckled. “If I have to tell you then you require more work than I’m willing to put in to make you civilized.”
“Admit it, you love that I’m completely uncivilized.”
“Yes, I do, and I don’t want to know what that says about me.”
“It says you’re a woman with intelligent, discerning tastes.”
“You’re incorrigible!”
“You love me.”
She bit her lip when she would have said indeed she did. He’d said it in a light, teasing way. Like someone would say to a friend. Oh, you love me.
Only she did love him. So much it hurt. But it was the one part of herself she did hold back from him. Despite the fact that she’d forgiven him. She was willing to try again. She’d give him another chance. But she’d be a fool to make herself utterly vulnerable to him. Not yet.
“Tell me about you,” she said quietly. “What makes you who you are, Max?”
“That’s a loaded question.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. But it shouldn’t be a difficult question. It shouldn’t cause you any issue to answer.”
She could picture his
She swallowed and nodded, glad that at least he understood her conflict. And her fear.
He smoothed his fingers over her still-damp hair, his gaze so intent on her that she had no doubt of his sincerity.
“I want you, Callie. I want us. I want to see where this takes us. I’ve tried it without you. I was miserable, and I think you were too. I think we’re better together.”
“I want us too,” she whispered. “There’s so much to talk about, though. So much we didn’t cover in Europe. I don’t even know what you do. My family asked, and I felt like the worst sort of idiot. I know nothing about you. And yet you know so much about me.”
Max pressed his lips to her forehead in a gesture so tender that her chest tightened. “That is what this week is for, dolcezza . Us. So that when we go meet your family, there is no doubt to anyone looking at us that you’re happy and confident.”
Her heart fluttered at the endearment he’d teasingly begun when they were in Italy. He’d taught her words of love and affection in many languages, but dolcezza had been her favorite. His eyes always burned a little brighter when he called her that.
“And to begin our week, I want you naked. I love the feel of your skin. I love the beauty of your body. My desire is that when we are in private I am never deprived of your sweetness.”
He pulled gently at the tie and then helped her to her feet. He stood in front of her and carefully peeled away the robe until she was naked in front of him, her skin soft and warm from the shower.
“ Bellissima ,” he murmured. “You are very beautiful, dolcezza . Even more so because you’re mine.”
He reached for a comb lying on the end table and then sat back on the couch, spreading his thighs. He patted the space between his legs.
“Sit so I can comb your hair while it’s still damp.”
She turned and then settled on the edge of the couch. His hands slipped over her hips as he steadied her, and then they wandered up her waist and around to cup her breasts.
He toyed idly with her nipples until they were rigid, and then he slid his hands up over her shoulders and gathered her hair at her nape.
“I love having the freedom to touch you however and whenever I want.”
“You’re such a spoiled man,” she teased.
“When it comes to you, I am.”
“You’re such a caveman.”
“And this is a problem?” he asked as he began working the comb through the ends of her hair.
“Evidently not.” She sighed. “I can’t resist you even when your knuckles are dragging the ground and you grunt stuff like ‘my woman’.”
“Damn right you’re my woman. What else am I supposed to say?”
She chuckled. “If I have to tell you then you require more work than I’m willing to put in to make you civilized.”
“Admit it, you love that I’m completely uncivilized.”
“Yes, I do, and I don’t want to know what that says about me.”
“It says you’re a woman with intelligent, discerning tastes.”
“You’re incorrigible!”
“You love me.”
She bit her lip when she would have said indeed she did. He’d said it in a light, teasing way. Like someone would say to a friend. Oh, you love me.
Only she did love him. So much it hurt. But it was the one part of herself she did hold back from him. Despite the fact that she’d forgiven him. She was willing to try again. She’d give him another chance. But she’d be a fool to make herself utterly vulnerable to him. Not yet.
“Tell me about you,” she said quietly. “What makes you who you are, Max?”
“That’s a loaded question.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. But it shouldn’t be a difficult question. It shouldn’t cause you any issue to answer.”
She could picture his
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