Captivated (Stranded) (11 page)
She cupped his scarred jaw in one hand. “I know,” she whispered. “I want it, too.”
His breath broke out of him like a sob, an embarrassing sound. He buried his hot face in her neck, kissing the sweat from her skin, breathing her in. Her arms came around him and pulled him close, asking for his weight on top of her.
He gave it, and they lay under the morning sun, several feet off the towel, she with him and he with her.
In the light.
Finally.
Epilogue
Evan positioned himself at reception on Monday morning, arms crossed over his chest, and practiced scowling. Clearing his throat, he rehearsed his line.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
He tried a few inflections, emphasizing
hell
, then
thinking
, imagining Magda’s contrition upon hearing each one.
“She’s really pissed, Magda.”
Actually, she was really naked. Or had been when Evan had left the attic to come downstairs. Naked and dreamy and sated, her hair tangled and her throat shining with perspiration. She had grabbed his collar and pulled him down for a kiss that had almost made him late. The ghost of her lips lingered on his left ear.
“Let’s call in horny,” she had whispered.
No problem there, not with the condition or the thought of spending all day exploring each other. That’s what they had done on Sunday, and it had proven an excellent plan. But the last thing Evan needed was for Magda to arrive and come in search of them.
“What the hell were you thinking?” He threw some extra growl into it. “What the hell, Magda? What the—”
She appeared on the sidewalk outside, her purse over one shoulder, keys in hand. Her eyes were already trying to see into the lobby. But she didn’t look eager, exactly. A little crease marred the space between her silver eyebrows.
The deadbolt clunked home and she pulled the door open. Her motions stuttered when she saw him, but she got through the door and closed it behind her.
He glared at her.
Tapped a forefinger on his bicep.
Clenched his jaw.
What the hell were you thinking?
She approached him, taking in his stance, his apparent mood. Then she stood before him, her lips compressed. She didn’t look the smug matchmaker this morning.
“I’m so sorry, Evan.”
Her voice came out softer than normal, as if she worried she might wake some angry beast if she spoke too loudly.
He frowned at her for a moment longer…but he couldn’t do it.
Letting his arms falls, he dropped the scowl and stepped forward to hug her. Surprise kept her immobile for a second or two before she hugged him back.
“
Gracias,
Magda.”
She gasped and pulled away, studying his face.
“¿Sí?”
He smiled.
“Sí.”
She started to open her mouth again but stopped when he pointed at her.
“You’re still in trouble,” he said.
She looked at his pointing finger with trepidation. “Is she angry?”
Probably still naked,
he thought. “No, but an apology wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Of course,” Magda said. “Where is she? In the archive? I’ll—oh! There she is.”
He followed her gaze to Laine, walking toward them through the main gallery, looking as beautiful as ever, with maybe the slightest flush across her cheeks. He loved that flush.
Magda launched herself at Laine with
sorry
s and
perdóname
s, and it was a full minute before Laine could wedge a word into the flurry of apologies. By that time, she had sent a questioning glance to Evan, to which he’d shaken his head.
Nope, couldn’t do it.
Laine accepted Magda’s apology graciously. Then, with another glance at Evan, leaned over and whispered into the older woman’s ear. Magda pulled back and looked at Laine closely. She nodded. When Laine stepped around her to cross to Evan, Magda watched her go with a huge smile on her face.
“I’m taking the day off,” he told her, holding the front door open for Laine.
Magda nodded furiously. “Yes, yes!” She shooed him with her hands. “Go!” Then, “
Suerte,
Evan.”
The door closed, and he stood on the front walk.
“
‘Suerte’
?” Laine asked.
“She wished me luck,” he said and took her hand.
Risa rounded the corner then, and catching sight of them, completely failed to keep a grin off her face. “Good morn-ing,” she sing-songed and gave Evan a wink as she passed.
He looked over to find Laine also failing to bite back a smile. “They’re going to be insufferable now.”
“They care for you,” she said. “They just want you to be happy.”
He pulled her into him and nibbled her earlobe. “Mission accomplished,” he said.
She laughed softly and kissed him. “So where to, Ohio?”
He studied the street leading into the city, the cathedral spires soaring over the rooftops, and the water beyond them. He should have been nervous, but the thought of walking into the city with her didn’t fill him with dread. It filled him with hope. It felt like adventure.
And it just felt right.
“Wherever you want, Iowa.”
She squeezed his hand. “Let’s see where the day takes us, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And with another kiss to fortify him, they stepped into the day.
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Thrust
(#1)
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About Mia
Mia West scorches her readers with smart erotica and erotic romance. She’s a total nerd for history, languages, and damaged heroes. When not writing, Mia’s reading. Her must-read, can’t-put-down, preorder-without-thinking authors include Cara McKenna, Kylie Scott, Meredith Duran, Sherry Thomas, and Cecilia Grant.
Find out more at
miawest.com
.
