Even so, that word—wife—weighted the air so heavily I felt like I could hardly breathe.Stefan took a long sip from his glass.I followed suit, bringing the tall glass to my lips.A sweet, citrusy scent floated up my nose as a flurry of tiny bubbles burst against my skin.I grinned and took a quick sip.A surprising creamy vanilla taste filled my mouth.I'd never had a drink like this before.I tipped the glass back and took a longer drink this time.
“Do you like it?”Stefan asked before he finished off his glass and reached for the bottle.
I swallowed and nodded.“It's delicious,” I told him honestly.I'd never been big on champagne.But I also guessed that Stefan didn't buy this bottle from the discount section of a crappy grocery store.
“We get it from a family friend in France.”
I giggled, then finished off my glass.“Of course you do,” I said dryly as I gazed around once again at the private plane we were on.The idea that I was a married woman—flying on a gorgeous plane—with the most handsome man I'd ever seen in my life—was so ridiculous my brain couldn't compute what was going on.
“Here.”Stefan steadied my glass and slowly poured more of the bubbly drink inside.“Have some more.”He jerked his head slightly before filling up his own glass again.
“Thanks,” I said, and took another sip.The champagne infused all my senses—much like Stefan did.That thought made me laugh.Maybe the alcohol was affecting me more than I realized.
“What's so funny?”Stefan asked.He grazed my arm with the tips of his fingers.Even though he'd hardly touched me—goosebumps erupted instantly.
I smiled at him sweetly.“Nothing.It's just kind of crazy that I'm sitting here—” my free hand drifted out with a small flourish, “in a wedding dress.Drinking champagne with—” my voice caught in my throat, “you.”
There was no way to disguise the heat behind Stefan's eyes.I'd seen it many times before.I knew what he wanted—what he wanted from me.
I also knew what I wanted from him.At least I thought I did.
“Why?”he asked, a look of confusion falling over his face.Probably a lot like the confusion I felt at the moment, too.
“What do you mean—why?”I frowned and squinted at him while I took a nice long sip of my drink.
His eyes scanned my blushing face for a long moment.Then he finally said, “You would have been on this plane months ago.”He tilted his head back and gulped his entire glass in no time flat.He sighed while his eyes focused on my lips.“If you hadn't left me.”
His words ricocheted around in my heart endlessly.I saw the hurt in his eyes.
The hurt I'd done my level best never to see.Because, yes—when I left, I knew I'd cause him pain.But I also knew that if I'd stayed, I'd have caused him even more.Which I'd more than proven tonight.
There was an awkward silence between us.One that I felt deeply.
One that I could tell Stefan wanted me to end.
With an explanation.
Of why I left.
Instead, he cleared his throat.“But you're here now.And that's all that matters.”His gaze trailed down my face to my cleavage.He wasn't shy about staring at my chest.When he dragged his gaze up to my eyes again, he smirked.“I'm really fucking glad I found you, Francesca.”Stefan licked his lips.And just that one action made my nipples harden and my lower belly clench.In a good way.
No.
In a great way.
I bit my lip for a second and then said, “I'm really glad you found me, too, Stefan.”My voice cracked as my eyes filled with tears.
Tears of relief—that he'd been there to save me.
Tears of sadness—for all the months I'd missed him.
And tears of joy—that I had this second chance to be with him again.After everything he'd been through in the hospital.I'd never forget how touch and go his recovery had been.Or all the worry he'd caused me.
And now—here he was.Not the sick, weak—dying man I'd happened upon in the ER.
No.
Stefan was—strong, vital—and hungry.
