Ruby grew agitated again. “No, no, I won’t make a baby in Petra. I promised. I want her to be happy. I just want her to be happy. Tell Petra I won’t make a baby.”
“No, it’s Ashleigh, not Petra—” Liam began.
Rubio clawed at the front of his friend’s shirt. “I love her. But I’ll pretend not to, if she wants. If she’ll come back to me. Tell her I don’t love her, okay?” He fell back, wincing. Liam glanced at Petra.
“I’ll tell her, Ruby, but I don’t know if she’ll believe me.”
“We’ll just dance,” he said, his voice getting slow and measured again. “Professional. Maybe someday she’ll love me and then I’ll marry her and put babies in her. But not until she wants.”
Liam winked at her. “That sounds like a good plan. But you should rest now. We can talk later, when the sedatives wear off.”
“Sedatives,” he said, his body relaxing. “What is that?”
“It’s kind of like truth serum,” Liam answered. “But don’t worry about it.”
Petra stroked Rubio’s glossy black hair. “Mãe?” he asked again.
“No, your mom’s not here. It’s Petra.”
“Petra,” he said, drawing out the ‘r.’ Liam and Mem left quietly, shutting the door behind them. Ruby reached up to cup her face, then grunted in pain. “Merda, my side. Come, please. Come closer.” He put his hand on her neck, stroking her pulse. “You’re alive. You’re here.”
“Yes, I’m here.” She stared down at his sculpted features, at the hint of stubble coloring his cheeks. He was so beautiful even half asleep, drugged out on meds.
“Ohhhh,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’m so glad. I love the smell of you. Tonight... Petra...I was so scared. I didn’t want to lose you.”
She hunched beside the bed, stroking the worried lines from his face. “I didn’t want to lose you either. I didn’t want to lose my wonderful partner.”
His expression softened. “Wonderful. You think I’m wonderful?”
“I know you are.”
He gazed at her, his black eyes narrowing into sharper focus. If she had to guess, she’d say he was finally emerging from his sedative haze. “I had this dream,” he said tentatively. “It was a terrible dream.”
“Was it about Paulsen, and a gun, and glass all over your loft?”
“Yes,” he breathed warily, looking around the hospital room.
She reached to touch his lips. “It wasn’t a dream. I’m sorry.”
“But you’re okay?”
She nodded, her throat too tight to speak. Now that he was awake, now that he was fully there, she could have died from the concern in his eyes.
“You saved me,” he said after a long moment. “You saved my life. You beat him off with my cane.”
“Yes. Thank God you told me about it.” She traced the line of his jaw, lingering over a little mole by his chin. “Paulsen died, Ruby. He fell out your window.”
“I know.” He swallowed hard. “I pushed him, right? But I had to.”
“That’s what the police said, that it was self defense. They came and took my report while you were under sedation. Liam was here, and Mem.”
“Under what?” he asked, wrinkling his brow.
“Under sedation. They made you sleep while you had surgery to stitch up your cuts. Are you comfortable? Do you hurt?”
“As long as you’re here, I don’t hurt too bad.”
She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to his. She felt the same way. It would be a while before she got over the events of the past night, but his nearness gave her comfort. For a long time she bent near him, touching his hair, breathing in his familiar scent. “I can’t lean down anymore,” she finally sighed, straightening. “My back.”
“Then come in bed with me.”
“I don’t know if the hospital allows that,” she said, eyeing the narrow mattress. “And you’re hurt.”
He made a dismissive sound and inched over. “You weigh what? A hundred pounds? There’s room for you.”
She climbed up next to him, being careful not to jostle the stitches on his injured side. It had been a long time since she lay beside him in bed. Too long. From the expression on his face he was thinking the same thing.
“Hey, you know what?” she said. “Ashleigh had her baby. It’s a beautiful little girl. They named her Alanna.”
“Alanna,” he repeated thickly. “That’s pretty.” He gave her a sideways glance. “I feel tired. Am I talking funny?”
“You always talk funny, but I love you anyway.”
He used the tip of a finger to lift her face, and traced her lower lip. “I love you too, Petra. So much.” He shook his head. “No, I mean, I don’t love you. I mean, I love you only as professionals. As friends. Whatever you want, to make you happy.”
She pressed her forehead to his. “It would make me happy for us to be together. To be in love, really in love. The thing is, I love you like crazy, in every possible way, so I don’t think we can stick to the professional thing anymore.”
He stared at her, the tiny worry lines returning to his brow. “Is this real? Or a dream?”
She giggled through the emotion choking her voice. “It’s real, I promise. I...I’ve done a lot of thinking in the last twenty-four hours. About you, about Paulsen and my father.” She took Ruby’s hand and held it in her lap. “I thought about all of you, and I realized that Paulsen wanted me too much, and my father never wanted me enough, but you always wanted me the perfect amount. You’re kind and wonderful and perfect in so many ways.”
“I’m not perfect. I’m rough and I’m stupid and my English is not so good—”
“You’re perfect,” she said, silencing him with a finger. “And I’m in love with you. Not just professional, not just at work. Not just friends. I’m desperately, whole-heartedly in love with you and I hope you can forgive me for being confused for so long.”
“You love me?” he asked, like his English decoding skills might be failing him.
“I love you,” she repeated. “I love you a billion times.”
“A billion times.” He grinned, drawing the “billion” out into three long syllables. “Then I forgive you, yes. And I didn’t mean what I said earlier about not loving you.”
“I know.”
He sighed and laced his fingers into her hair. He kissed her, tenderly at first, then with a deeper passion, the release of all his previous restraint. She wanted the passion, all of it. She wanted him to be himself, no matter how rough and perverted he was, because she loved his kindness and warmth, and his staunchly protective nature.
“Don’t fall,” he said in the middle of his kiss, wrapping a bandaged arm around her. “Is a little bed.”
She wouldn’t fall, not with him looking after her. Petra thought she loved his protective nature most of all.
Chapter Twenty: Perfect
Liam and Mem helped move Ruby’s things into Petra’s apartment, and his furniture into storage. His loft wasn’t exactly habitable. He’d fix it up and sell it eventually, because he couldn’t live there anymore. He’d really liked his concrete loft, but he couldn’t bear to live near that window. For weeks afterward he couldn’t be near any windows.
But Petra’s place was okay. She was there with him, so even up off the ground a few stories, he felt safe. He loved spending his days with her, sleeping, eating, going to the theater, making love and playing BDSM games, and kissing her whenever and wherever he wanted. There was no hiding anymore. All through the summer tour and into the autumn season, they flirted openly during rehearsals and held hands in the halls. They made out in their dressing rooms, kissed during curtain calls, and fucked sometimes after performances, aroused by the synergy of their partnership. The tabloids ran stories on their romance for a few months and then lost interest and moved on.
But Rubio never lost interest. He waited for boredom, for the itch to sleep with other women, but it never came. He understood now about Liam and Ashleigh, the way love