“I bet he is. Genetics like yours don’t just pop up out of nowhere, and you’re definitely the type of man whose good looks will only get better with age.”
“Guess you’ll have to stick around to see if your theory proves true.”
She licked her lips, detecting the faint aftertaste of mint but unable to recall when she’d brushed her teeth. “I’m considering it.”
“Anything I can do to help sway the decision in my favor?”
“That depends; is it in your favor to spend the rest of your life with or without me?”
His eyes darkened. “Definitely in my favor to have forever with you. Is that what we’re talking about, Rachel? Forever?”
While she’d never found the American accent particularly attractive, she couldn’t imagine Harvard sounding any other way. That rumbling depth, rolling over those soft vowels, was something she’d never grow tired of listening to.
“Why don’t you have a pet name for me?” she asked. “Callum calls Isobel his wee darling. Dimitri calls Megan Buffy. And Joe calls Julia baby.”
His smile was so potently sexy that she was sure she could become pregnant just by looking at it. “You want me to call you baby?”
“Do I look like a child?”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He turned serious. “You don’t have a pet name because, as far as I’m concerned, your given name is a term of endearment. Can’t you hear what I feel for you every time I say it? I’m telling you how much you mean to me every time your name passes my lips.”
Her heart swelled at the words, and she stilled. For the first time in as long as she could remember, her heart didn’t feel constrained. The chains had been removed by the man watching her so intently. He’d broken each and every link with his slow, systematic persistence.
Rachel no longer wanted the distance between them, but when she threw back the covers, she was mildly surprised. “I’m naked,” she said as the air hit her skin.
“Mmm, so you are.”
His eyes caressed her as she walked the short distance between them. Once there, she climbed onto his lap and straddled him, flattening her hands on his chest. His skin was soft and smooth, his muscle firm and warm, his scent familiar—the ocean on a summer’s day.
“I don’t want to talk about what happened earlier,” she said.
“I figured.” His right hand rested on the curve of her hip, his thumb caressing.
She took a deep breath and dismissed the ugliness of the memories. She was clean. Inside and out. And she only wanted to focus on the good—for now.
“Well, that’s not entirely true. There’s one thing I wouldn’t mind discussing.” She leaned into him, her nipples brushing over his chest as she whispered against his ear, “You told me you love me.”
“Yeah, I did.”
A warmth raced through her and settled in her newly freed heart. “Did you mean it?”
“Never been more serious about anything in my life.”
Her throat tightened, and she knew she had to give him something back. Say something. But the words were stuck inside. As though what she felt was too big, too overwhelming to express. Or, she had just as much trouble admitting her feelings as she had apologizing.
Nuzzling the curve of his throat, she gave him what she could. “Make love to me.”
“I think you should make love to me.”
“Yes. That’s a much better plan.” She kissed along his jawline to his lips, teasing the fullness of them.
“Rachel,” he whispered against her mouth.
And she heard it. The love overflowing from her name. Harvard’s love for her.
“I’m not an easy person,” she told him, leaning back to search his gaze for the honesty of his reaction. “I won’t ever be any other way.”
His hand cupped her nape, his fingers threading through her hair. “I like you fine exactly as you are.”