I didn’t have to choose between having faith in people and being discerning.
I could be both.
“I didn’t mean to worry you,” I said.
His hand moved slowly down my back. “I should’ve listened to you. But damn it, Nettle. You can’t ever go off into a dangerous situation like that in the future, all right? I can’t handle it. You mean too much to me.”
My breath hitched. “I do?”
He drew back far enough to look at me, and I saw remorse darkening his eyes. “The things I said about you not being my partner, about there being nothing between us except the deal? It’s bullshit. I’m an idiot.” He exhaled and lowered his forehead to mine. “When you said you’d changed your mind that night, I pretended I was asleep, but I heard you.” His lips brushed over mine.
My heart slammed against my ribs. He heard me? He knew I didn’t want a second chance with another man? Did he understand that what I was really trying to say was that I wanted him? A bolt of adrenaline rushed through me. Adrenaline threaded with…hope.
“I changed my mind too,” he said in a low voice. “I’m done denying how I feel about you.”
The hope grew.
“Do you know one of the reasons why I insisted on a marriage that would only last six months?” he asked.
Slowly, I shook my head.
“Because I was drawn to you from the moment I met you. I couldn’t explain it, and it terrified me. Every time I saw you, it got worse. And worse. And worse.” His mouth twisted, almost ruefully. “Then we had that dinner and I understood just how good and genuine you were, and I was fucking slayed. I couldn’t believe that someone like you could exist in this wretched world. I knew if I let myself get close to you, I’d fall hard.” He brushed a strand behind my ear. “I was right.”
I stared at him, stunned. It didn’t make sense. “You hated me in the beginning.”
“I never hated you. I wanted you so badly that I pushed you away every way I knew how.” His voice roughened. “I kept telling myself I wouldn’t be like my father. That I wouldn’t let a woman have power over me the way Vita had over him. But I’m done letting their story define ours.” His eyes burned into mine. “I fucking love you, Nettle.”
The words simmered with pent-up emotion, as if he’d packed every ounce of affection and tenderness he’d hidden from me over the last few months into them.
My throat tightened. “I love you too.”
A grin curved over his face, transforming it, before he leaned down and pressed his mouth against mine. The kiss was soft at first, almost disbelieving, as though he needed to feel the words between us before he could trust them. Then his palm tightenedaround my jaw and the kiss deepened. I rose onto my toes and clutched the front of his shirt, wanting to hold on to the moment before the rest of the world found its way back in.
A gentle knock on the door interrupted us. Cosimo pulled away with obvious reluctance. The flight attendant called through the door, asking us to return to our seats because the pilot was anticipating turbulence.
He held my face between his palms and rested his forehead against mine. “The next few days are going to be busy, and we still have a lot to discuss,” he said. “Can you be patient with me?”
“Of course.”
The seat belt sign chimed overhead, and Cosimo drew in a deep breath before finally letting me go.
My head was still spinning when we returned to the main cabin and took our seats. His words echoed through me, so impossible and wonderful that part of me wondered whether I had imagined them.
But he was right. The next few days would be busy. He still had his mother to deal with, a vote to win, and a half brother to introduce to the rest of his family.
I had been patient this long.
I could hold on for a few more days.
CHAPTER 45
COSIMO
“Last Christmas”drifted in from the living room, seeping under my office door. I studied my half brother from behind the desk, my hands clasped in front of me.
The fucker seemed to have forgotten how to sit the moment he entered my house. Instead, he sprawled like he wanted to mark my territory as his own.
That’s what he was doing right now on the office sofa—half lying, half upright—with a newspaper spread open next to him. An actual physical newspaper that he’d requested from the maid after she’d made the mistake of asking whether there was anything she could do to make him more comfortable.
