For a moment he was silent, and when he answered, his words were oddly flat, as if he feared he might scare me off if he made too much of the question, much less the answer. “I have,” he said. “But that’s not something I’d ask you to do.”
I thought about that, then rolled over. I pressed my hand to his chest, wanting to feel the beat of his heart thrumming through me. I was awed by all he’d told me. Not only the bare facts but the emotions and need behind it.
“If you do need it,” I whispered, “you only have to ask me. You say I’m yours, Cole, but you’re mine, too.” I drew in a breath, hoping he understood how completely I meant these words. “And I will always give you what you need.”
“I know,” he said. “Thank you.”
I nodded, satisfied. He still hadn’t said that he loved me despite my confession. But he’d told me his secrets. He’d trusted me with his past.
He’d opened his heart, and he’d let me claim it.
And with a man like Cole, who holds his secrets close, that was the essence of love.
twenty-one
I woke to Cole’s large hands brushing over my naked body.
“Mmm. Good morning.”
“Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “I’m heading downtown to meet with Charles. I didn’t want to wake you, but I couldn’t leave without touching you.”
I took his hand and pressed my lips to his palm. “I’m glad.” I propped myself up on my elbow. “You sure you don’t want me to come?”
“To come?” he repeated with a devious gleam in his eye. “Always, and about a thousand different ways. But if you mean to join me downtown, then no. It’s not necessary. Not if you trust me.”
“You know I do.”
“I’ll tell you the entire plan once it’s firm. But I want to make sure everything is on track. That Charles didn’t come across a snag.” He reached out and ran a strand of my hair through his fingers. “I want to take care of this for you, Kat. I want you to know that you can come to me and say ‘I need this,’ and be certain that whatever it is, I will make it right for you.”
I felt a tightening in my chest, a sweet sensation, like a hug to my soul. “I already know that.” I rose up on my knees to kiss him lightly. “Now go do your thing.”
I watched him go, sighing a bit because he was wearing a suit and, honestly, the man looked too damned amazing. Once the door clicked shut behind him, I considered going back to sleep, but the allure of Southern California was too much, and within the hour I was showered, changed, and full up on a bagel, cream cheese, and at least a gallon of coffee.
I didn’t have a car, but I did have cash, and I asked one of the taxi drivers to simply drive me around Beverly Hills. It turned out to be even better than I anticipated, as he knew the flats intimately, and pointed out at least a dozen houses that had once been owned by various studio darlings from the Golden Age of Hollywood.
He went up into the hills next, and the drive was much less interesting, since most of the homes were behind massive stone fences or set so far back from iron gates that there was nothing to see. But once we reached Mulholland Drive, I was in awe. The day was unusually clear according to my driver, and I could see all of the west side spread out below me, not to mention the roofs of some homes that looked like they could house every resident of a small country, but were probably only occupied by one couple, one child, and a very spoiled dog.
By the time I returned to the Beverly Wilshire, I was deep in thought about real estate and the Chicago market, and how I could position myself to sell houses like that—the kind that could keep a commissioned agent living high for a solid year.
I half-regretted my plan to abandon the grift in favor of this new career. If I combined the two, I could probably make a killing.