by Demi Alex
“When was the last time you were home?” Kat asked. She instinctively knew his answer, but logic said it couldn’t be.
“With you,” he replied. “I couldn’t leave Martine alone until I knew she would make it.” His shoulders fell a little, and suddenly the confident and self-assured man looked exhausted. The stress carved on his face was easy to read. She wanted to wipe it away and start over. To see the proud fire in his eyes and the determined set of his mouth. Instead, he sat before her tired and vulnerable, exposed to the hurt and trauma he’d had to pull his family through. And he had. Marko had been a pillar of reason and strength for the family, consulting with the doctors, relaying the family’s wishes, and doing everything in his power to see his cousin recover.
Without fail, Marko did what was needed, regardless of the personal cost.
Reaching down, she cupped his face and brushed her lips over his mouth. “I wish I could wave a magic wand and make everything okay. I want to press rewind and go back to Friday, then start all over again so we could stop Martine from coming to Paris.”
“No one could have stopped Martine from doing what she wanted. Ever. She insisted on visiting. She wanted to meet me at the café on Saturday before you arrived so she could pump me for information. We had a rendezvous for three o’clock. Her curiosity was piqued. She wanted to know every detail about our personal life and where the relationship was going. She wanted to meet you before the rest of the family.” He shook his head, smiling and caressing the side of her thigh. “As for Friday, it was perfect. Friday, you arrived. I would never change that.”
“Friday was amazing—even if you orchestrated the whole event,” she admitted.
“Sue me,” he said, echoing their friends’ words as a smile cracked his features. “The truth is, I’d planned to come to you earlier, but the work situation kept spiraling out of control. The timeline was altered, and I needed to make a decision earlier than anticipated. I wanted to make that decision with you. I want my future with you.”
His words melted her heart. She smoothed her fingers over his temple and through his hair, needing to show him that their relationship was a two-way street. “I also want my future with you. But I don’t ever want you to send me away like that again.”
“I had to,” he said, standing and turning his back to her. He shucked off his shirt and unbuckled his belt. “The last thing I wanted was you with me.”
“Marko,” she gasped, hurt pulsing inside her. He didn’t want her when he needed her. He’d sent her away, like a disposable inconvenience.
“You don’t understand,” he insisted, jamming his fingers through his hair and staring at her with a desperate look. “It was all happening again. The same exact thing. A drunk driver. Martine’s life hanging by a thread. She was rushed into surgery to stop the internal bleeding. We all gave blood, but that wasn’t enough. Her brain kept swelling, and they had to place her in a coma. She was on life support, just like your dad.”
Her legs went limp, but she managed to drop to the ottoman. She hid her face in her hands, and struggled to take in air.
“That’s right. A fucking machine needed to breathe for her,” he rasped, resurrecting images of her father being hooked up to machines and tubes she’d long buried. Her father had not woken up. They’d taken him off life support and the monitors had stopped.
“You needed me,” she said in a strained voice, no longer the girl who had fallen apart after the last beep had sounded. She stood and reached for him, placing a hand on his forearm. “I should have been with you.”
“I couldn’t let you relive the painful memories of your father’s death. And I couldn’t relive the pain of you running from me.”
She’d done exactly that, and because of her past, he didn’t trust her.
“You lost your father. Your mom lost her husband. The world lost a good man too early.” Marko pulled away, shutting his eyes and closing her out. “I lost you. I can’t lose you again. Instead of giving you the opportunity to run, I sent you away with the intention of coming for you when it was over. You shouldn’t have come back. But now you’re here. I’m not letting you run again.”
He turned and walked toward the en suite bathroom, leaving her chilled and angry. “This isn’t going to work if you don’t trust me,” she called to his back. “You can’t protect me from living life.”
“It’s not you I don’t trust,” he answered, not looking back.
Fuck! She was so damn stupid. He needed her and all she did was whine about her needs. That strong and beautiful man had chinks in his armor.
He turned on the shower and the mirrors steamed. Kat entered the room and watched as Marko stepped into the oversized glass shower. He rested his chin on his chest, and rubbed the back of his neck as the water beat down on it. He stood there, not moving, not washing, just standing.
Shedding her clothes, she stepped in behind him and ran her hands over his back. “I’m not running.”
His shoulders rose as he took a deep breath, and she wrapped her arms around his chest and pressed her cheek to his wet skin. “I need you as much as you need me. You’ll never send me away again, and I’ll never run again. I’m done running, bello.”
He turned in silent acknowledgement and cupped her face. His dark gaze studied her face as desire built between them. His hard chest heaved against her soft breasts, and he pressed his erection against her belly. “Those are my favorite words, ever.”
“Okay,” she cooed, stretching around him and reaching for the shower gel. “Let me care for you.”
She squeezed the soap onto a sponge and he closed his eyes. She caressed over his shoulders and down his chest, feeling the tension ebb from his muscles with each lathered touch of her fingertips on the edge of the sponge. Taking her time, she washed every inch of his gorgeous body, and dropped lingering kisses on the sculpted perfection.
The flavor of her man and the way his skin prickled beneath her lips had her yearning to claim him as hers immediately. But the feel of his fingers sinking into her flesh and the roll of the guttural groans from his chest steeled her resolve to make the moment last. She didn’t want the feelings to end.
Prolonging the agony, her aching nipples brushed over his chest as she stretched up and washed his hair. Working the shampoo into a sudsy crown, she massaged his scalp and kissed the lids of his closed eyes. Pleasure spread through her while Marko simply stood and accepted what she offered. He didn’t try to control her movements, didn’t alter her pace, just waited for her to act.
She eventually guided his head back and swept the suds away from his forehead and down his back. A smile eased the stress lines on his face. Running a finger over the stubble on his jaw, she smiled back. She smoothed down the corded lines over the side of his neck and settled a kiss above his collarbone. Trailing her tongue to his chest, she made small circles around one nipple and licked at the flat, dark sphere until it pebbled and she sucked it into her mouth.
Relishing the bumps beneath her fingertips, she moved her mouth to the other nipple and nipped at the edges until she burned with the need to taste all of him. She lapped at the water sluicing over his chest and followed the rivulets that flowed into the dark trail of hair below his belly button.
“You’re killing me,” he rasped.
“I need you,” she replied, her giving turning into possession.
She knelt between his legs, suckling gently along the heavy shaft. With one hand, she cupped his balls and stroked her thumb over the base of his erection. With the other, she pumped the smooth hardness of his length, following her grip with her lips until she licked at the intoxicating drop at the very tip.
Fitting her lips around the erect cock, she circled her tongue over the smooth head and felt, swelling within her chest, the pang of desire to take everything he had to give her, to have him lose control and take his pleasure in her mouth like he never had before. She sucked hard, stealing his ability to insist on a shared release as he had last time. The po
wer of staking her claim on him rushed over her, burning in her body and pulsing between her legs.
Alternating between stroking and licking up his shaft, she rose to the right height to take him further into her mouth. Relaxing her lips, she curled her hands around his hips and buried her fingers in the taut flesh of his ass. She pulled and sucked him deep, moaning in pleasure as he stroked the back of her throat.
Marko’s fingers tangled in her hair. He cupped the back of her head and thrust into her mouth, sliding over her tongue, taking her mouth like nothing else mattered. “Fuck, Kat. I can’t. I can’t fight it. I’m going to come.”
Triumph thrummed through her. She increased the pressure of her lips and squeezed his ass. His cock swelled and jerked, spilling his release down her throat as she swallowed furiously to take every drop. He was hers. All of him. Claimed and possessed. Marko was hers. Everything he had to offer.
He released his hold on her hair and leaned a hand on the wall. His other hand cupped her faced and tilted it up. He didn’t speak, but she saw everything he had to say.
She licked his taste from her lips, then placed a soft kiss on the side of his groin. “I love you,” she breathed. “Thank you.”
He groaned and somehow managed to pull her up and against his body. He lifted her off her feet and wrapped her legs around his waist. Turning off the water, he grabbed a towel and draped it over her curved back. He dried them off as much as possible, considering she kept her face nestled in the crook of his neck and their wet bodies remained linked the whole time, and then he carried her to bed.
Placing her gently on the mattress, he detached himself from her grasp, and swept her wet hair off her face. Tapping the towel on her front, he smiled down at her. “I lost control in there.”
“I know,” she acknowledged impishly. “I loved it.”
He laughed and brushed his mouth over her lips. “I love you.”
Sweeping the towel quickly over his torso, he dropped it on the floor and climbed into bed beside her. She turned her back to him and fit her body against his.
He gathered her against his chest and closed his lips on her neck in a long, wet kiss. With an arm across her breast and a hand between the juncture of her legs, he slid two fingers between her swollen folds and plunged them into her pulsing core. He pressed his palm tight against her and rubbed her clit.
“I’m not done yet,” he breathed against her ear.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Marko woke and reached for Kat. She wasn’t in bed, but the delicious smell of bacon drifting up from the kitchen announced her location. He pulled on a pair of jeans and went to find her.
There she was, standing by the sink, wearing a pair of his boxer shorts, dark dress socks, and a well-worn sweater. Grinning, he lowered himself onto a bar stool and shook his head. He cleared his throat to let her know he was there. She turned and gave him a big smile, immediately popping a small piece of crispy bacon between his lips.
“You’re so beautiful in the morning,” he said, between chewing and pulling her into his arms for a kiss. “The best-looking breakfast cook I’ve ever seen.” He didn’t bother to hide his appreciation as his gaze traveled down, then up, her body. “And to think, you’re all mine.”
“All yours,” she agreed, returning his kiss and folding her body into his lap. “Did you sleep well?”
“Very well,” he replied, searching for a nonexistent clock. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost noon.” A conspiratorial smile bloomed on her face, and she glanced at the phones on the counter. “Your papa called the house around nine o’clock. Good thing I had brought the handset downstairs with me to call Antoine for breakfast fixings, because you slept right through that ring. You needed your sleep. It was your papa who suggested I also find your cell phone and bring that down here, too.”
“What did Papa say?” Marko had slept all morning. Irresponsible. What if he was needed at the hospital? How could he let his guard down like that? “How is Martine?”
“She’s doing well. She spoke with her mom and dad this morning for fifteen minutes, without needing a break. Cecile fed her a few spoonfuls of custard. Antoine said he could see her ‘pretty eyes’ today.” Kat hooked her fingers into quotation signs in the air and raised her finely shaped brows in amusement. “Your papa said she’s sleeping now. We spoke ten minutes ago.”
Relieved, he squeezed Kat’s waist and placed a kiss on her neck. He’d slept and the world hadn’t gone to pieces. As a matter of fact, the world was looking and smelling pretty good. He wanted this forever. Every morning waking up to her in his life, hopefully wearing his clothes, her cheeks wonderfully pink from a night of lovemaking, and sweet words from her lips.
“Make it official, bella,” he said, looking into her eyes.
She traced his jaw and kissed his lips. “Make what official?”
“Marry me,” he said, covering her hand with his and bringing it to his heart. “Be mine and make me yours, officially.”
Her breath caught and her cheeks flushed. “Where will we live? How are we going to make it work?”
“Together. We’ll make it work together,” he insisted. “We’ll figure out the logistics later. We could live in New York or we could live here. I don’t care where or how, as long as we’re together. Marry me, bella.”
“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes.” She crushed her lips to his and cried in delight.
* * *
Kat’s heart overflowed with love, more love than she’d known existed.
He raised her hand to his mouth, and placed a kiss in the center. “At last. I keep you forever.”
“You’re stuck with me,” she said, laughter bubbling in her voice. “I’m yours and you’re mine. We’ll figure the rest out together.”
“I can’t wait,” he breathed, and claimed her mouth.
He was carrying her to bed when the phone rang. He stopped midstride and looked at her.
“Go get it,” she said, secretly hoping it was her mom. “We have forever.”
He placed her on her feet and backtracked to the kitchen. Approaching the counter, he called to her to come back. “It’s your phone, sweetheart. Paul’s calling.”
“Pick it up,” she said, skipping across the living room.
By the time Kat joined him, he had given Paul a quick synopsis and had already told him that his cousin was out of danger. He held the phone away from his ear, so she could she hear Paul’s explanation about how he had searched Paris accident reports and used news connections to learn of what had happened. “Happy to hear she’s awake and doing better, Marko. I’m sorry we weren’t there for you. We didn’t know, or we would have come back with Kat.”
“I appreciate it,” Marko replied. “Thank you so much. We were about to leave for the hospital in a few minutes, but became a little sidetracked. We have more good—”
Kat placed a finger across his lips, guessing that he was going to share the news of their engagement. Moms and dad, first, she mouthed silently.
“Hold on, Paul. Here’s Kat. She’s pining for the phone.” Marko handed her the phone, and snaked his arms around her waist. She settled against him, feeling complete.
“Hello?”
“You’re still pining for me, Kittykat?”
“Always, Paul, always,” she said, shimmying seductively up Marko’s body and tangling her fingers in the hair at his nape. “I heard Marko fill you in on Martine’s condition. Isn’t it wonderful that she woke up and is making remarkable strides?”
“Yes, it is.” Paul paused, a note of hesitation in his breathing. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully. “Kathryn, are you doing okay? Do you need me to come over?”
“No. I’m fine, my friend,” she said in a soft voice. “Thank you.”
Paul cared. When he’d looked into the accident reports, he had understood the similarities between her dad’s accident and Martine’s. Her friend had seen what she’d gone through and who she’d become afterwa
rd. Paul was rightfully concerned. Most importantly, he really cared. She was blessed to have such good friends.
“Are you sure, Kittykat? Justin and I can take the afternoon flight and be there by morning. We know this is hard for you.”
“She’s stronger than we think,” Marko interjected. “Kat has been my rock since she walked into the hospital. She’s good, Paul. She really is.”
Like a beautiful rose, Kat’s confidence bloomed in her chest. Marko had referred to her as his rock. He trusted her. “Thank you for being a good friend.”
“That’s my job,” Paul said, his relief audible. “And now that we’ve established that our Kathryn is okay and that you’re together, do you want some more good news?”
Perplexed, Kat and Marko looked at each other. A peculiar angst twisted in her stomach and she nervously closed her fingers on Marko’s arm.
“Sure. Go on,” Marko said.
“We’re listening,” Kat added.
“The Valentine’s feature is yours, Kittykat. Good job. You’ve got your byline.”
Kat squealed with glee. She jumped in the air and threw her hands over her head. Dancing around the room, she swung her arms in the air and tossed her hair around like a mad woman.
Marko laughed. “She’s dancing,” he explained to Paul. “She’s real happy.”
“And you, my friend, are one lucky bastard.”
“I know it,” Marko agreed, and let their friend go. He wrapped his arms around the waist of the still-dancing Kat and twirled her off her feet. “Congratulations, bella. I knew you could do it. You could do anything you set your mind to.”
She covered her face with her hands and basked in pure bliss.
* * *
Passing on breakfast, they celebrated the happy day by making love in the shower—to save time. Dressed and ready to share their news with the family, they walked hand in hand downstairs and into Antoine’s for croissants. He made them coffees, as well, and then handed her a little box with almond cookies for the family.
Jean-Luc stood at the curb. “Monsieur Renard.” He tipped his hat. “Bonjour, Mademoiselle Taylor.”
