“With Alexander?”
“No. With Ed, my client. He looked at my ring and said he wanted something one of a kind like it. Am I being paranoid? How would he know it’s one of a kind? And he’s never mentioned it before. I mean, the timing just feels odd.”
“I agree,” he says, “but he did buy a piece of jewelry. Referencing another piece of jewelry is logical. It’s probably nothing to worry about, but we’ll talk to Blake and Savage. And then,” he adds, twining his fingers with mine and walking me to him. “We’ll go celebrate your success, you and me, and a bottle of wine.”
His voice is soft now, his mood with it and I press my palm to his face. “After I do some more work. Gio was a major source of income for me. I need to turn this sale into more.”
He covers my hand with his and brings my fingers to his lips. “You know you’re not alone anymore, right?”
“I know that. I do, but I still have responsibilities.”
“Let me help.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Don’t say please. Please no.”
“Yes.” He stands up, and still holding my hand, steps toward the door. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“To the bank. We’re going to make sure you’re taken care of.”
“No.” I shove on his chest. “No. No. No.” I place myself between him and the door again. “I swear I will go back to my place, Kace if you try to do this. Don’t do this. I do not want to feel like I’m your charity case. I can’t be that.”
He cups my head and presses my forehead to his. “Baby, you matter to me. I care about you.” His eyes find mine. “I need you to let me help and there’s more I’d say about that if we weren’t here at Riptide right now.”
“You are helping. You’re paying for Walker.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I don’t need other help—”
“Aria—”
“Yet, Kace. Not yet. Maybe I won’t now that I have Riptide.”
“And how will I know when you do? I need you to promise me you’ll tell me.”
“I will.”
“You promise?”
“Yes.” I concede. “I promise. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“I don’t want your thanks. You know that.”
“You have it anyway and just to be clear,” my voice softens, “you matter to me, too. I care about you, too.”
His hand slides under my hair to my neck and he lowers his mouth to mine. “Aria Stradivari, you need to know that I’m too damn selfish to let you go. I’ve decided you don’t get to run.”
“Does this mean you’re going to stop telling me I should?”
“Yes. It does.”
“Thank God.”
His lips curve and he leans in, his lips a whisper from mine, when there’s a knock on the door. “Ms. Alard. I’m waiting.”
At the sound of Mark’s arrogant, demanding voice, we laugh, and Kace kisses me hard and fast. “I’ll kiss you properly at home.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Crystal hugs me when she hears the news of my sale and gloats mercilessly on my behalf to Mark. While I do not think Mark Compton is a man most would dare cross, it becomes clear that Crystal has him wrapped around her finger. And him her. They are in love and I remotely wonder about her being sick before the Riptide event. She was a little secretive about it which is probably just me looking for secrets, because I have so many secrets. It was probably a flu bug.
But could she be pregnant? God, could I? We didn’t use a condom way too soon. We’re still not using condoms. It’s a thought I’m forced to set aside as Crystal has me coordinate the delivery of the bracelet with Ed. Afterward, there is also the visit to the bank in which the staff treats Kace like the rock god that he is, but I’m pretty sure it’s because of the size of his bank account, not his impressive violin. It’s hours later when we head to the apartment where, as promised, Kace most definitely kisses the whole of me and quite properly. Once we’ve pulled on a few items of limited clothing, we decide to do something I haven’t done in a long time. We set aside everything going on around us. We order pizza and watch a movie. We just relax.
Together.
Kace and I wake up on Halloween and work out in his gym. We take turns on the treadmill and weights and I’m stunned by how fast that man runs and how hard he lifts weights, but then, it shouldn’t surprise me at all. It requires extreme discipline to play a violin the way he plays, to be the only real daisy in the wind. And he is. I know why my father called him that. His skill, his devotion to his craft, his way of speaking through his music is without reproach, and yet he’d tell you it is. He isn’t arrogant. He respects his gift and his instrument.