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“Yeah.” I grinned. “What if you joined me on-screen in some of my videos. Just casually drop in every so often. You wouldn’t even have to talk. Just let the viewer see us together.”

He pursed his lips. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why not? I think you’d do great in an informal setting like that.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I meant for your channel. I don’t want to jeopardize your content.”

I melted a little at his thoughtfulness. “Are you kidding? My viewers would love you. You’re like a modern Mr. Darcy, strolling across the grounds of a majestic château. Ooh.” I snapped. “Do you think you’d be willing to stand in a pond in a white shirt?”

“What?”

“Never mind.” I smiled, amused by his expression and this conversation. Though, damn, my viewers would lose their shit if I staged something like that.

That said, I wasn’t sure I wanted to share Graham with the rest of the world. I knew it was in our best interest, but I liked that I got to have him all to myself when we were at the château.

We continued walking, meandering among the old trees. Hands intertwined, heart full. The leaves crunched beneath our feet, a squirrel scurrying up a nearby trunk.

“Who is this Mr. Darcy?” Graham asked. “This is the second time I’ve heard his name. First Sloan, and now you. Should I be jealous?”

“He’s only every woman’s fantasy.”

He growled, pulling me into him. “Why is my wife fantasizing about another man?”

I was both turned on and amused, and I didn’t know whether to laugh or moan at the feeling of his body pressing into mine. He was hard and strong, and I closed my eyes, overwhelmed by the sensations. We hadn’t had sex again—yet. But Graham had pleasured me almost every night, only letting me return the favor every so often when I insisted.

I didn’t know why I’d been holding out on having sex. If I admitted it to myself, I did know. But I hadn’t been willing to admit it to myself.

Sex complicated things. I was trying to keep some distance between us. I’d promised myself—and Graham—that I wouldn’t fall in love with him. And here I was, doing just that.

How could I not? Graham made it so easy to fall for him. The man was thoughtful and nurturing. He’d taken it upon himself to heat up my bath every night with the electric kettle. He supported my dreams and valued my opinions, often listening to me talk about the château for hours. And after his reaction to my alopecia, I didn’t want to hold back anymore.

He spun me so my back was to a tree, his arms caging me in. “Liliana.” His nostrils flared. “Answer me.”

I debated toying with him a little longer, just to see what he’d do. Or maybe he was messing with me. Because who hadn’t heard ofPride and Prejudice?

“You’re a lot like him, you know. Tall, brooding?—”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Where can I find this Mr. Darcy?”

I started laughing.

“Liliana.” He collared my throat, and everything reduced down to that pulse point. To that point of contact.

I could barely focus on anything but him, but I wanted to tease him a little more. “Have you seriously never readPride and Prejudice?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet? One of the greatest love stories of all time.”

He pulled a face, his hand resting over my erratic pulse. “I was always more into chess and gardening. I don’t have much time for pleasure reading, and I’m pretty sure that book wouldn’t make the cut.” Spoken with such disdain.

“It should,” I said, swallowing, feeling his hand move because of it. His eyes darted there then back to mine. “It really should. And gah.ACOTARandOutlanderandFourth Wingtoo. Epic love stories, and the heroes…” I sighed.

“Why look to fiction when there are epic love stories that exist in real life?” He slid his hand down my throat, smoothing over my breast.

“Such as…”

“My grandparents, for one.”