Jaimie: Fire and Ice (The Wilde Sisters 2)

“It isn’t that. It’s…I have a job.”

“You said yourself, this is the slow season.”

“It is. Still, I can’t stay away forever.”

“Jaimie. Honey, I have enough money for—”

She put her fingers over his lips.

“Thank you. But I’d never…” She took a breath. “I have to go home eventually. We both do. We can’t—we can’t continue to live in this—this beautiful dream.”

Was that what this was? A beautiful dream? If it was, he didn’t want to wake up.

“Surely, another couple of weeks… What?”

“Being here, with you, away from everything… It’s given me time to think.”

His gut tightened. What was this? The kiss-off?

“About me. And the future. And my job.”

Zach felt his knees go weak. “Your job?”

She nodded. “See, I thought I’d like real estate. Dealing with numbers, but in a different way.” She shrugged. “Now I see that it’s not for me. I don’t really feel comfortable trying to convince people to list a property with me or to buy one, for that matter.” She laughed. “I guess I proved it that night in New York. I think I must have made the worst presentation ever.”

Zach slipped his arms around her.

“What you proved that night,” he said softly, “was that there isn’t another woman like you in the world.”

Jaimie smiled. “You proved the same thing, Zacharias. There’s no other man like you. No one.”

Her words made his heart soar—and made it ache. Would she still think that once she knew the truth?

He blanked out the thought, bent to her and kissed her.

“The thing is,” she said, when the kiss ended, “I’ve decided to go back to what I know and love. Accounting. When we get home, I’m going to get in touch with some people I know and see if… Why are you looking at me that way?”

The sun, enormous and scarlet and unimaginably beautiful, was just touching the sea.

“There are accounting firms in Manhattan.”

“Well, sure. But—”

“Jaimie.” Zach slid his hands up her arms, clasped her shoulders. “Leave Washington. Come to New York.” He took a deep breath. “Live with me.”

She stared at him. Her expression was unreadable. He’d caught her by surprise, but he’d caught himself by surprise, too. He’d never lived with a woman, never even considered it, but this was different. This was Jaimie. His Jaimie.

“I’ve never lived with anyone.”

He nodded. “Neither have I.”

“It’s a—it’s a huge step.”

He nodded again. “I know.”

“A huge step,” she said again in a husky whisper. “I mean, what if it’s a mistake? What if it turns out we shouldn’t have—”

“It won’t be a mistake.” His hands tightened on her. “I—I care for you, Jaimie. More than I ever imagined I’d care for anyone. I want to start my days looking at you across the breakfast table, end them with you in my arms at night.” He cleared his throat. “Move in with me, sweetheart. Say ‘yes.’”