A white van idled on the drive as a uniformed driver jumped out and handed Sebastian a box. A few seconds later, she was surprised when he held it out to her.

“I don’t need gifts.” He’d already given her so much.

“It’s not for you. But you can open it. Don’t shake it, though. It’s fragile.”

What could it be? On the workbench, she grabbed an X-Acto knife and carefully cut through the tape. Inside were six smaller boxes—three flat, three square. She opened a flat box first.

“Oh, my gosh.” She gaped at the utterly beautiful china plate. Monarch butterflies floated across the white porcelain, their wings trimmed in gold. The plate’s scalloped edge was lined in a dusty pink and outlined with gold. “It’s exquisite.” The butterflies flew around leaves and ornately painted flowers with swirls of gold between them. “You don’t expect me to break this for the mosaic, do you?”

He grinned, shaking his head. “No, these are for your mom.”

“My mom?”

“Apart from your visits, the china is her only luxury, isn’t it?” When she nodded, he smiled and said, “Open the rest.”

Her hands weren’t quite steady as she unearthed two more plates and three delicate matching mugs, with yellow butterflies, blue butterflies, all edged in gold. She didn’t have to ask to know the gold was real. Sebastian was a man who insisted on nothing but the best.

“They’re beautiful. Mom will adore them.” Her mother had never owned anything so elegant. Or so expensive, she thought before she could stuff the thought away to join all her other conflicted emotions about Sebastian’s money—and how free he was with it when it came to her.

“My friend Will imports these from England.” He flipped the plate over. “They’re signed by the artist who paints them. This is by Rose.” He pointed to a small rose under the maker’s name.

Charlie was overwhelmed. All she had to do was make one offhand remark about forgetting a plate and a cup, and he miraculously conjured them for her from England. But not just two. Three. Because he clearly planned to join them again.

“I’m going to visit my mom again on Wednesday. I know you’re busy, but if you can carve out a little more time, will you come with me?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

Her eyes stung with tears of gratitude. She’d been pissy about his offer to help her mother, making it about her and her guilt. Yet everything he’d done had been kind and thoughtful. He always praised, never criticized. He built people up, never dragged them down. Right from the beginning, even when she’d expected the rich, take-what-he-wants, stomp-on-whomever celebrity, he’d been different. She’d looked for chinks, but everything he’d done defined him as a flesh-and-blood man who actually cared.

In that moment, Charlie put aside every reservation about his research into her mother’s illness. He wanted to give, so she would accept without automatically assuming there were strings attached.

She carefully put the plate back in its box. “Thank you.” Reaching up, she framed his face in her hands, then rose on her toes and kissed him. Soft and sweet, still trembling with emotion. “For everything.”

* * *

Maybe a better man would have looked at Charlie’s kiss as nothing more than a sweet thank-you. But Sebastian didn’t have it in him, not after the hours he’d spent watching those lithe curves move, her strong yet elegant hands performing miracles in metal. Hell, the way her mind worked was the sexiest thing of all.

Being with Charlie, especially when they were in her workshop, reminded him that there was a life beyond work and society events. Reminded him of the simple pleasures of working with your hands. Of getting hot and sweaty. She’d brought that joy of art and creativity back into his life, right there in front of him. She’d let him watch, had even let him be a part of it when she’d run with his mosaic suggestion. She was right that he didn’t have any spare time to be there with her in her workshop, but Sebastian was inexorably drawn both to being a part of the creative process and being with her.

He’d always craved creating. Now he craved her too. Which meant resisting the irresistible wasn’t an option.

His arms around her, he lifted her off her feet, taking her mouth as roughly as she had taken his so sweetly just moments before, steeping himself in her taste. He would have sung a chorus of Hallelujah when she opened fully, giving him everything, if it hadn’t meant lifting his lips from hers to do so. Holding her tight, he possessed her mouth while she tangled her fingers in his hair.

Her tongue licked out against his, her curves pressed into his muscles, the pulse at her neck throbbed against his thumb, and he was lost in need. Desperate to have more of her. All of her. Every gasp of pleasure. Every moan of desire.

She mesmerized him, and his body took over, raging hard and tight. He consumed and was consumed. Never before had anyone made him forget time or place. There was only the feel of her, the taste, the scent, the moan in her throat. He wanted her with every cell, every organ.

And he knew she wanted him just as badly. His hands molded her bottom to shift her, and he felt her heat, hotter than her welding torch. Every instinct told him to shove her up on the bench, to take, grab, own, possess. Need clamored inside him. He wanted his mouth on her everywhere.

He might have taken everything he wanted if a cloud hadn’t passed over the sun, if the light hadn’t changed and woken him up for an instant. Lord knew he wanted to jump into the deep end with her. Wanted to take her hand and fly out over the edge. Wanted to risk everything on the hope that they were the perfect fit.

But only last night, he’d drawn more pictures of his parents. Sketches that reminded him of how brutal toxic love could be. That it could destroy absolutely everything.

Nothing about Charlie seemed toxic. On the contrary, she seemed to be his ideal match. And yet...he still hadn’t been able to completely figure her out, still didn’t understand why she hadn’t been reaching for her full potential until he’d found her in the middle of her junkyard. He’d never felt this strongly about another woman, never felt like he was falling in love before.

And that very fact made him recognize that if toxic love was going to hit him, it would be now, when Charlie already mattered so much to him. He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to fall completely for her, only to have to give her up. When they finally did dive into the deep end together, he wanted them both to truly know enough about each other to take the risk not just with their bodies.

But with their hearts.

Though it was even harder to pull back today than it had been two nights ago, he forced a breath of space between them. Her chest rose against him, as she gasped for the air they’d both lost in their sweet, desperate kiss.

“You...” The word came out raw. Ragged. “I want...” Damn it, he was never at a loss for words. Hell, his job was always having the right words for everything. But he’d never felt this way about anyone, never had to stop himself from moving too fast because his heart was tied so closely to his desires.

She put her hand on his face. The same strong, elegant hand that could create such majestic art. “I want you too.” She sucked in another shaky breath. “Just as badly. But—” She lifted her beautiful eyes to his. “I want to be sure.”

Trust Charlie to find the words. Exactly the right ones. Exactly the ones he was feeling.

“Soon,” he said again, just as he had after their first kiss two nights earlier. “We’ll know soon.”

She echoed the word “Soon,” in a whisper of a kiss against his lips. Even before the day arrived when they finally stripped away each other’s walls and became one, for him every other woman had already been erased. Because all along, something told him he’d been waiting for Charlie.