It wasn’t what “they” said. Everyone knew it, but only Chay knew that Bianca was in distress. The question was, why? Because she thought she’d stepped on his plans—or because she’d admitted that she needed him. Wanted him.
That she—that she cared for him.
“Well,” Sanchez said briskly, “I don’t know about the rest of you guys, but I need to grab some shut-eye. Olivieri? You need anything else, just yell.”
“I don’t know what to say, Dec…”
“Hey, one for all and all for one. Who said that? A couple of Navy guys? Or a pair of French dudes a long time ago?”
Laughter. Back slaps. Hugs. Doors opening and closing.
At last, Chay and Bianca were alone.
She looked at him, then away. Amazing. This man knew her intimately. More intimately than any man ever had. And yet, because of a handful of foolish words, she felt embarrassed and awkward—and there was nowhere to hide.
“Well,” she said, “let me just clean up…”
She got as far as reaching for an empty coffee mug when Chay’s arms closed around her. He drew her back against him, kissed her hair, her earlobe, her throat.
“Bianca,” he said.
She shook her head. Why pretend she hadn’t made a fool of herself?
“I should not have said what I said,” she whispered. “That—that I want to be wherever you are. I misspoke. You know how I sometimes do that. I get the words wrong…”
He turned her in his arms. “That’s how it is for me too, baby.” He brushed his lips gently over hers. “I want to be wherever you are.”
Her eyes glittered with tears. “Do you, Chayton?”
He nodded. “That’s the only place I want to be. Wherever you are.”
She laughed. He kissed her. Then he led her into the bedroom and this time, when they made love, it was so sweet and tender that she wept.
• • •
Bianca came awake abruptly.
The room was chilly. It held the faint light of very early morning, and the bed beside her was empty.
She rose, wrapped herself in the blanket and padded to the bathroom.
Chay wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen. She opened the sliding doors and stepped out on the deck.
There he was! Wearing gray gym shorts, doing push-ups on the hard-packed sand near the water’s edge.
And so beautiful he made her heartbeat quicken.
The morning light dappled his body with gold, and what a body it was. Hard. Powerful. A long, lean mass of incredibly delineated muscle. Her mother used to weave tales of the warriors who had tried to conquer Sicily, whose blood was part of hers. Phoenicians. Carthaginians. Greeks. Romans. Her half-brothers and half-sisters had grown up on their father’s tales of the Viking and Celtic and Apache conquerors whose DNA was within them.
Chayton could have belonged to any of those warrior tribes. To the best of them. He had their strength, their courage…
And he had her heart.
She thought of what he’d said last night. Early this morning, really, just before he’d taken her to bed. That he wanted to be wherever she was.
But what did that mean? Did he love her? Or was she only important to him now? She wasn’t a fool. Love—not that he’d ever mentioned love—did not always mean forever.
It would, for her. She would always love him. Adore him…