I was staring at a yacht bobbing on the blueish-green water when Saint called me. “Levana?”
“Do you know you’re the only person who calls me by my full name,” I said when he neared me.
He rested his elbows on the balcony and squinted against the bright sun that highlighted his naturally tanned skin, a shade light than mine. “You have a beautiful name, why shouldn’t I use it.”
“Because I like Lee and I want to hear you say it.”
“Nicknames insinuate intimacy.” He shrugged, his tone indifference, surprising me.
“And you have a problem with intimacy.” I turned fully to face him.
“I do.”
“Why is that?”
Straightening, he slipped his hands in the pockets of his sweats and turned to face me. “Why all the questions, Levana?”
“Curious I guess, I don’t really know anything about you.” Except for what I’d seen at the ritual. I got tidbits from dad yet not enough to the mysterious man in front of me.
“You know enough.”
Picking up on his usual stiffness, I rolled my eyes. “Why are you always such a grouch?”
“Expecting people to follow simple rules does not make me a grouch.” He turned and walked back into the apartment.
“A dictator then?” I called after him. I’d read enough history books to know one.
“If that’s what you’d like to call it,” he replied as I followed him to his office where he slid into a leather chair behind a large white desk.
“I thought sex is supposed to release happy hormones,” I muttered, plopping my ass down in a chair opposite his.
Leaning back, he removed his glasses and set it down on the table, his eyes roaming my face. “What’s wrong, Levana, you’re in a less agreeable mood today.” I hated that he always seemed so calm and collected, even when he was angry.
“A friend from England is visiting and she’s invited me to join her for Spring Break in Miami.” I bit my lip trying to broach the subject without coming across as though I was asking for permission.
“When do you leave,” his response startled me.
“Um...who said I was going,” I stammered.
He cocked his head to one side, studying me, and I hated that too—that he could decipher my soul if I gave him half a chance. “You’re not going?”
Shrugging, I played with the Newton's cradle balls on his table. “I haven’t decided. It’s going to be lots of parties and drinking and dancing.” I internally cringed at how bored I sounded. At Grace’s insistence, I invited Cian to join us. Thrilled, she said, this was one time I should be out there, enjoying spring break with the type of people I usually stayed away from. Only, I was torn between leaving Saint to go just when we’d started off something I couldn’t quite call a relationship.
“You should go,” he said, drawing my gaze.
“You want me to go?” I couldn’t keep the incredulity out of my voice.
He rolled back his chair and patted his lap. “Come here, baby.”
Rising, I circled his desk and slid sideways into his lap to look up at his face. He stared down at me saying nothing, his dazzling smile mesmerizing as ever. I ran a hand through his longish hair, loving how the tips played over the top of his shoulders. He turned his head into my hand and kissed the palm. God, I was one lucky girl.
“What do you want to do?” he asked, bringing me out of my admiration.
“I thought...um...you’d.” I mentally smacked the back of my head.What the hell, girl.
“Levana,” he sighed, slipping his arms around me and holding me tight. “You’re young, and at an age where Spring break and it’s joys should be on your mind.”
“You’re not angry that I might want to go?” Undisguised scepticism lined my words. Did he really not care if I went?
