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Silence settles between us again, easy and electric, allowing for a stream of thoughts to swirl around my mind.
The thought of me and Carter being together bothered him? And in the café this morning, he asked if I ever loved Chris… and there was a definite note of sadness when he asked that. Is it possible that he actually feels something more real for me?
His in-the-moment confession from earlier reverberates in my mind.“I’m yours.”
And he said seeing me would make his day. And the gala dress…
But these could just be signs of physical attraction. Surely he doesn’t...
We’ve had two dates and some mind-blowing sex. That’s not enough to base feelings on.
Except… I love him.
I look at him, sitting across from me, his eyes gazing deep into mine.
I absolutely, one hundred percent, love this beautiful man sitting naked in the bath with me.
I can feel the question building in my throat before I even consciously realise I’m going to askit.
“Marcus…”
He looks at me softly, his fingers playing with my foot under the water.
“Why did you bring us up here?”
“What do you mean?” His voice tenses slightly, sounding concerned, possibly even insulted.
Shit.Don’t fuck this up, Lila!
I force a breath.
I need to know. Is this just physical to him?
“I mean… booking this cottage, last minute…it couldn’t have been cheap. And we still could have been followed just as easily. So, I guess I’m just wondering… why?”
A silent beat passes between us. He shuts off the tap.
“You want the honest truth?”
I nod, my heart hammering in my chest.
“The main reason is still true. I hoped it would be far enough away that we wouldn’t be followed. But..” He runs a hand through his hair, the water sweeping it back as droplets run down his chest. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love the idea of being alone with you.”
My lips are curving into a smile before I’ve even fully processed his response. “Yea?”
“Yea,” he says, sitting up a bit more. “Everything happened so fast. I didn’t expect...”
“Me either,” I say. “Honestly, if two weeks ago someone had asked me what would be more likely, that today I’d be sitting here, sharing a bubble bath withMarcus Anderssonin a romantic cottage, or winning the lottery, I would have run to buy a lottery ticket.”
He laughs, tension easing from his jaw.
His fingers drum absently on the edge of the tub.
Istudy his face, amazed at how expressive every one of his features is.
I can tell he’s holding something back, carefully choosing the words to say as his hand moves to hold the black gem hanging from his neck. His eyes are focused on the wall behind me.
“You know I told you… it’s been about ten years since my last real relationship.”