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“Were you just talking to your chair?”
“If I was?”
I held up my hands.
A smile twitched at her lips.
I wanted to kiss those lips. Kiss everything. Clearing my throat, I pushed off the wall and stepped back into the foyer. “Where are you going to look now?”
Watching her discover the pieces I’d bought for her filled the aching emptiness inside me, in a way that made me more content than I’d ever been.
In the kitchen, there was a blender and a book filled with cocktail recipes.
I’d also bought a new set of cookware after asking her sister for advice.
My personal gym had an upgraded version of the treadmill I’d seen in her house, as well as a punching bag.
There was another chair for her in the living room, as well as a chaise tucked near the window with a view of the sprawling lawn.
The master bathroom’s vanity was outfitted with her brand of facial products, hair products, and other toiletries. I’d asked Dina for help with those.
There was a soft, feminine robe for her hanging next to mine.
Shelves had been cleared out and rearranged in the master bedroom closet for her clothing. Several pieces already waited there for her—items that Zoey had donated after hearing about the fire.
The walk-in closet had been half-empty for as long as I’d lived here. I never had the desire to fill all the shelves or drawers. Those drawers now held luxurious lingerie—and not just sexy pieces for her to wear for my pleasure, but pretty, feminine bras and panties to replace the items that had been lost in the fire.
But the room I was most excited—and nervous—about was the one I’d saved for last.
It had been a guest bedroom on the first floor with windows facing northwest and a sliding glass door that opened onto the patio, the blue-green water of the pool sparkling a few yards away.
The bed and dresser had been removed and replaced with office furniture, including a desk and a stand-up workstation similar to the one at her office. A new, top-of-the-line computer sat on the desk, booted up and ready to go. Framed photos of the Biscayne hotel were mounted on the walls.
“James…” Her voice thickened as she walked around, touching a picture frame on the shelf behind the desk, smiling in delight as she saw it held an image of her niece and nephew. “Dina helped you with this.”
“Dina. And your mom.” Relief had the knots in my neck loosening and I moved to stand in front of her. “So, what do you think of your surprise?”
“Surprises,” she said, laughing. “Everything’s wonderful. You didn’t have to do so much, though.”
“Yes, I did. This is your home.” Taking her hands, I lifted them to my lips. “I wanted you to have everything you needed to feel comfortable here, to feel at home.”
There was more I wanted to say, but I couldn’t find the right way to put those emotions into words.
She cupped my face.
“I’m home whenever I’m with you.” She rose onto her toes and kissed me. And I think she knew what I couldn’t say. Now that she’d spent time with her parents and Dina, it was my turn to have her all to myself. I could barely withhold the demanding need to touch Tina, taste her, imprint the feel of her skin on my memory again, to reassure myself that she was safe.
Simone and Cecil were in jail. Tina was safe in front of me, and the house was quiet save for the ragged sound of our breathing. I couldn’t hold back another moment.
Shoving my hands into her hair, I backed her against the wall.
She smoothed her hands down my chest and tugged my shirt up, her nails raking over my chest.
I raised her dress and found her naked underneath, save for the silky scrap of a pair of panties with so little cloth, it was a joke to consider them clothing. I cupped her through the panel, running between her legs, shuddering when I found her already wet.
“James…” she gasped as I tugged the fabric aside and stroked a fingertip through her slick heat.
Her head fell back against the wall, mouth parting, her whole body soft with surrender. Need had me ravenous. Yanking the panties away, I wound my hand in the material of her skirt while she fumbled with my belt, then the button on my jeans.