“Yes.”
“Will there be a seat for me at this dinner or will I be dining between your knees?” she asks caustically.
I can’t stop my lip from twitching with amusement. God, I didn’t realize how much I loved her fire until it was taken away from me. I glance at Matias. He is happily driving through the resort, not giving away if he heard Ellie’s statement or not. If he did, he is smart not to acknowledge it. In response, I dip my head, bringing my mouth as close to her ear as possible. Ellie stiffens as I inhale her scent. “Tonight, you have a chair, but I’ll never object to you dining between my knees.”
I may be a desperate man, but I am still me, and the image of Ellie naked, kneeling, and taking food from my hand is enough to send me right into sexual orbit.
She glares at me with my face an inch away from hers. “Keep dreaming,” she spits. “I’ll never kneel for you again.” There’s so much fight in in her voice, but there’s also doubt, too. People often rebel against the things that make them vulnerable, while at the same time tempting them like sin. Maybe Ellie will never kneel for me again, and that’s okay. I’ve made peace with that fact. Changing my ways is a sacrifice I’m willing to make. A year apart has altered so many things; it’s given me perspective and time to think. I have never wanted a woman the way I want Ellie. Never wanted to pursue a relationship or take that scary step of caring for another human being. I had no example to learn from so what good would I have been at it? That’s what I thought my whole life until I met Ellie—until I was forced to care, to protect, to feel. And I don’t want to give that up because I as much as I believed I could live without love, in a second flat she proved me wrong. The moment she was put in danger, the moment there was a chance I could lose her forever. That single moment I knew I could be more. Give more. To her.
We pull up to a secluded part of the resort with a sandy pathway leading to the beach.
“When you said dinner, I was expecting a restaurant,” she says as she slips out of the golf cart. She stops short just before we step onto the sand.
“Ellie?”
“One sec.” She puts her hand on my arm then pulls off the black stiletto heels from her feet. The ones that are as deadly as they are sexy.
My mind explodes with images of what I could do to her while wearing those shoes.
Behave.
We walk toward the water, around some palm trees, and through some light brush until we come to a clearing. There, tucked away, is our own private table lit with white candles, and pink paper lanterns dangling overhead. I can’t take credit for the romantic setting, that’s all Jett. I just told him to create something Ellie would love. I watch her out of the corner of my eye as we slowly approach the table. Her arms are still wrapped defensively around her upper body, the hem of her dress is rippling slightly in the wind.
“This is very nice,” she says once we’re standing next to the table, and for the life of me I can’t figure out what her melancholy tone is about.
“Shall we?” I pull out her chair, and Ellie sits. Then I take my seat adjacent to hers. The table is dressed with a white tablecloth, porcelain plates, and shiny silverware. The centerpiece is three multitiered cylinder vases with submerged orchids and candles floating on top. There are more orchids situated on the mirrored base, and even some wrapped around our napkins, like holders. Ellie fiddles with hers, inspecting the delicate white flower that is just as beautiful as she is.
“Wine, mademoiselle?” Matias appears with two bottles in his hands, pulling Ellie out of her wandering thoughts.
“Oh, yes. Red, please.” She smiles. He pours her glass and then turns to me.
“The same.” Before Matias is even done pouring my glass, Ellie has guzzled down half of her own.
“Easy there, killer. This night is going to be over for you before it even begins if you keep up that pace.”
“Are you always going to be in the business of telling me what to do?”
I put my hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t trying to tell you what to do. I was merely making an observation. If you want to get shitfaced, by all means do so. I’ll hold your hair back while you puke.”
“Would you?” she asks sharply.
“Of course, I would. If you needed me, I’d be there.”
She breathes heavily as she stares at me like she’s trying to stab me to death with just her pupils. Did I say something wrong?
I wait for her to speak, but it seems she has nothing to say. That unnerves me. “Ellie, what are you thinking?” I ask delicately. It feels like I’m suddenly walking over a field of landmines.
“I’m wondering why you brought me here.”
“To dinner? We’re both humans. We need to eat.”
“That’s not what I meant. Why did you beckon me to Tahiti?”
“You said you wanted to see paradise,” I answer honestly.
“I live in Hawaii,” she responds flatly, placing her wine down and crossing her arms.
“Neutral ground?” I try again.
