I cock my head and plaster a huge fake smile on my face. “You always did know how to charm a girl.”
“Open it,” he orders again.
Sighing, I pick up the manila envelope and rip it open, just wanting to get this over with.
I pull out a card that reads “I’m sorry. So meow-y sorry,” in a thought bubble over a kitten with huge sorrowful eyes.
“Huh? I designed this, didn’t I?” It dawns on me as I look at him.
Intense blue eyes hold my gaze hostage.
“I know my girl’s work.”
“You just...you called me yours.” My voice is too high-pitched and the words tumble out before I know I’ve said them.
Crud.
He nods.
“I want you to be. Badly. It’s ripping me apart.” He reaches across the table, takes my hand, and strokes his thumb over it. “Sabrina, I need you to be mine in a way I’ve never needed anything else. Not money, not success, not fame, and not any damn coffee. I’d surrender it all in a heartbeat for you.”
My heart dive-bombs in my chest.
There’s something else in the envelope, too. I pull out a thick packet of clipped paperwork and start reading through it. Apparently, it’s for a startup marketing firm with a huge investment attached. The name of the company is Bristol-Heron Communications.
“A partnership?” I whisper, dumbfounded.
“Yeah. Notice how your name’s first because you have controlling interest with my backing. I’m banking on you, if you will.”
I look up from the contract. “As far as grand gestures go, it’s not bad, but do you think—”
“Grand gestures?” He quirks a brow.
I shrug. “Sorry, I talked to my mom, the romance writer.”
“So you’re talking to your mom about me, huh?” He flashes that lady-killer smile. “That’s progress.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” I shake my head. “It’s nothing good.”
“But I’m in your head.”
Always. Unfortunately.
“Anyhow, it’s not a bad move, but do you think I’m just going to fall desperately in love with you and hang on your every word because you invested in my company?” I throw the contract back on the table. “I’ve been freelancing since before my vacation time ran out, and I don’t need your money to do it.”
“Brina, wait. This contract exists because I want to be your partner. I want you to help Hugo when I need you to. More than that, I want to be yours in every way. We can do this together. I’ve seen your web design work. I’m proud of how you got that started with no business training.”
“How did you know I’ve been freelancing?”
“I can’t tell you. You’ll be angry.”
I put my elbows on the table, lean forward, and rest my head on my hands.
“Try me.”
“Your mom told me,” he sighs.
“You talked to my parents?”
“I knew you talked to them and you were crying when you called. Armstrong and I went over. I told your mom I wouldn’t bother her or you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, and if you left upset, I hoped either she or Paige were with you. But your mom told me I should be the one to talk to you.” He holds up his hands like he’s apologizing. “The startup idea isn’t a grand gesture or whatever the hell you think. I promise. The latte and skywriter were that, and you weren’t impressed. So tell me, what does it take to wow you, woman?”
A hundred visions burst in my mind, and they all involve six feet something of this achingly gorgeous, hate-inducing man alone with me in bed.
Of course, that’s not what I tell him.
“Being home by six every night. Especially if I’m not at the office with you anymore,” I snap. Impossible conditions I know he’ll never agree to.
“Seven,” he growls.
“Six. Your work email turns off, and you only answer personal calls.”
His face twists. “I don’t even have an EA right now. The last one was awesome, but I’m not rehiring her. I won’t keep our relationship a secret anymore. I learned that the hard way.”
“Shame. Maybe we’ll talk again when you have an EA, then,” I say, batting my eyelashes.
“No.” He grabs my hand, lifts it up, and presses it to his lips. “Since I expect HeronComm will become a major client of Bristol-Heron, we could set up an office space in the building and work late nights together again.”
I smile. “I like the sound of that. But how do I know you won’t leave me high and dry?”
“I love you, Sabrina. I know I fucked up. Living without you has been hell. I won’t ruin this again.” His chest heaves and I stumble back, physically stunned.
Holy shit. The L-word?
But I can see it in his eyes.
I know he’s not faking it.
I see, right then, how much I mean to Magnus Heron.
“I don’t know how to convince you,” he continues. “Give me one more chance. One last-ditch shot to leave you anything but high and dry—ideally, you’ll be under me and so wet you’ll beg for a trip to the Sahara.”