“How so?”
“Your reputation with women isn’t good.”
“Or private,” Jared mumbled.
“You’re too public a figure to be private. You go through models and starlets and—”
“What’s your point?” Jared asked.
“There was a time when I imagined having an affair with the Great Jared Montgomery, but—”
“But what?”
“When I was dumped by Eric it hurt, but a good cry and a few pounds of chocolate healed me. Then, seeing you, the Great—”
“Don’t say it again.”
“Okay. The truth is that I don’t see you that way anymore.”
“How do you see me now?” he asked softly.
“As a human. A living, breathing man who is impatient, who manipulates conversations and information to however he wants it to be seen, and as a designer who sometimes falters in his visions.”
“Anything good in there?”
“A man who generously shares everything he has and everything he knows with others. Food, money, work, whatever is yours, you share it. I’ve seen that you’re a man who protects the people he loves, and you love hard and with all your heart.”
“An absolute saint.” His words were light but his tone wasn’t.
“Not quite,” Alix said as she looked out at the sea. “Eric I could recover from with some chocolate and a poem, but you …” She took her time before she spoke. “You I could love. If I had a … a fling with you and you tossed me aside, I’m not sure I’d ever recover.” She took a breath. “There. I’ve said it and I think it’s much more than you ever wanted to hear. I think—”
She stopped talking because he kissed her. Gentle, sweet, a meeting of the lips that was soft and … and promising.
Pulling away to look at him, her hand on his cheek, she searched his eyes. She needed to find the truth within herself. Was she attracted to this man because of who he was? She’d been in awe of him for so many years.
But now she knew the man, had met his friends and relatives, had seen him in his own country, so to speak. She had an idea that she’d seen what no other woman had: the real Jared Montgomery Kingsley the Seventh. Truly and completely, without armor of any kind, she had seen both sides of him. There was the internationally famous man who was asked for his autograph, and there was the man an old couple sitting on the porch asked to look at their furnace before winter came.
Jared was waiting in silence, his face close to hers. He seemed to know that she was asking a question and when she said the words he’d be ready to answer.
Which man did she like better? she wondered. The brilliant designer or the man who was part of a community and family that she had an idea could sometimes be overwhelming?
“I like both of you,” she said, her hand caressing his cheek, feeling his whiskers. For days now she’d been looking at him and hadn’t realized how much she’d wanted to touch what she saw. The strong Kingsley jaw felt good against her skin, his whiskers soft.
He turned his head to kiss her palm—and the blue fire returned to his eyes.
The hairs on her body stood on end. She’d never before felt such desire for any human being.
“We need to take this slowly,” she said as part of her seemed to scream, This is real. This could be forever.
Jared dropped his hand from her face. “No touching. I understand.” His voice seemed to weigh a thousand pounds.
“No!” Alix said. “Touching is fine. It’s great. In fact, I’m for it. The more touching, the better. It’s just promises that we need to think about.”
Jared smiled. “You are my kind of girl. I suggest that we go home. Now. I’ll get someone to give us a ride back.”
“What about the old truck?” She knew it was still covered with food.
“Lexie can return it.”