“Pierre La Croix.”
“Ha!”I smile up at him.“I guess being in love with a cybersecurity expert means you can’t hide your YouTube—”
I freeze.I can’t move.Can’t breathe.I just said it.
I just said the words.
Out loud.
Finn tips his head.“Are you in love with me, Emma?”
My heart is stuck in my throat.I can’t swallow.My fingers have gone numb.My lips part, but no sound escapes.I can’t run.There’s nowhere to go.Would I run into the surf?Down the beach?Back to the cottage?
Finn reaches down and tucks a strand of loose hair behind my ear.“I’ve been in love with you for a long time.If I’m honest, I’ve loved you since the first moment I laid eyes on you.I love you, my sweet, beautiful Emma.”
The strangest sound escapes my mouth.It’s half scream and half laugh—but it’s one-hundred-percent surprise.
Finn spins around and turns his back to me.“Hop on?”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice.I jump on his back, and I’m treated to a rather bumpy jog back to the cottage, and by the time we reach the front door, I’m out of breath from laughing.
I’m smiling so hard that my face hurts.
He loves me.
CHAPTER 77
Finn
Two days and one night of bliss.
I love Jasmine with all my heart, but I have to admit that a little privacy with Emma has been paradise.It’s been just what we both needed.
I brew us coffee in the French press and make a breakfast platter with the croissants and fresh fruit I had delivered.All the windows of the house are open, letting in a sea breeze and the scent of salt.
Bringing the tray into the bedroom, I stop in the doorway to find Emma lying seductively on her side, her back to me, gazing out at the ocean.
She’s doing this on purpose.
When I walked out of here a few moments ago, she was naked, half covered in the sheet.And now she’s back in the negligee.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, girl.”
She looks over her shoulder at me and smiles.
Fuck me.
That perfect ass is cupped in the poorest excuse for a pair of thong panties I’ve ever seen.Only recently did I learn that the less fabric a negligee requires, the more it costs.
It’s a good thing I’ve got money.
She rolls onto her other side, bends her top knee, and produces a satisfied half-smile.I am looking at one sexed-up, relaxed woman.The woman I love and the one who loves me in return.
My Emma.
I have to place the tray on the bedside table, because I worry I’m about to drop it.
Emma is displaying herself to me.The delicate strips of hand-crafted lace part along her front, revealing the perfect rounded globes of her breasts.The firm surface of her belly.And the barest whisper of her sweet pussy, unable to hide behind a tiny triangle of transparent fabric.
