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The emotion in his eyes, the love he refused to voice, filled her heart and blurred her vision.
“I love you, Ryder.” She wanted to chant it over and over until she’d excised his pain for good and replaced it with love.
Her declaration seemed to break his control. Ryder sped up, his thrusts harder, the smooth rhythm becoming erratic. He came with a shout, his release filling her before he collapsed over her.
“Mine.” His harsh gasp battered her ear.
His declaration pierced her heart with bittersweet satisfaction. It wasn’t love, but it was something. She held his sweat-slickened body in her arms. “Yours.”
She was his. Always had been.
Once his breathing slowed, Ryder shifted, pulling Nathalie into his body, spooning her like they’d done in college after making love.
Her eyes drifted shut, lulled by the steady rise and fall of his chest at her back, his cheek pressed against her hair.
Her mom and Don had both urged her to find her passion. Painting was a passion.
But Ryder was everything.
Whatever it took, however long it took, she’d find a way to have them both again.
Ryder watched Nathalie sleep as she lay curled against him. His palm stroked her hip, admiring the soft skin beneath his callused fingers.
On Monday, he’d talk to Lachlan about letting him work from Dìleas headquarters here in the States. He could travel back and forth between DC and London easily enough to build their European client base. Caleb might be willing to relocate for a while. Or Finn.
His life was here. He and Nathalie deserved their second chance.
All these decisions could wait a week, however. Nathalie’s software demonstration to the US Defense Department was in a few days. Once it was complete, he’d return to England long enough to clear up some loose ends.
Namely, what to do about his father’s meddling in his life.
Straddling two different worlds hadn’t worked. He’d made his choice.
Now he needed to see it through.
Chapter Eighteen
“Abodyguardwithbenefits.”Nathalie slipped her arms around Ryder’s waist from behind as he scrambled eggs in the cast-iron skillet on her stove. “Sex and breakfast.” Her hand wandered over his light blue polo and headed south to brush over the front of his jeans. “Delicious.” She hummed her pleasure against his broad back.
He captured her hand and pressed it against the bulge in his jeans before raising it back up to rest on the firm ridges of his stomach. His head twisted to look back at her. “If you keep that up, the only breakfast will be me, feasting on you.”
She shivered at the desire darkening his eyes.
Cold, rubbery eggs might be worth it.
Ryder reached behind them to swat her jean-clad butt. “Make the toast, darling.”
Darling.The way his voice went husky sent a delicious heat through her insides.
“Spoilsport.” She let him go and did as he asked, dropping two slices of sourdough into the toaster.
If only she could wake up every morning like she had today, with Ryder kissing her to consciousness, then making slow, sweet love to her.
She’d felt the difference in his touch. He loved her. He hadn’t said the words yet, but he was close. She could feel it. And once he did, she would never let him go. If she had to hand over the company to Don and follow Ryder to London like a lovesick fool, she would.
This was her chance to fulfill her dreams for once. Hers.
Her cell phone buzzed like an angry bee on the center island, demanding her attention.