The doors opened again with a soft hiss and several other people got off at the same floor, following us along the corridor, chatting noisily. Caro and I were silent.

She pulled the keycard out of her wallet, and I could see the tremor in her hands as she pushed the door open and walked inside.

I stood watching her as she moved around the room, turning on the side lights, pulling the curtains, shifting her laptop from the duvet. She still hadn’t looked at me, so I walked in slowly and sat on the edge of the bed. I caught her hand as she hurried past on another pointless circuit.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m nervous, too.”

She stared at me in amazement.

“You’re nervous … why?”

“Because it’s you,” I said simply.

And it wasn’t a line. Just because I’d fucked my way around every city I’d ever lived in, it didn’t mean shit. This, here and now, this was what mattered. With her. I’d been numb for so long and now I wanted to feel again—it scared the fuck out of me.

I raised her hand to my lips and kissed it gently, hoping to reassure her. I didn’t want my so-called reputation getting in the way.

“Only if you want to, Caro.”

And I meant it: she had to want me, too.

“I do,” she stuttered. “I just feel, I don’t know, embarrassed. It’s so stupid.”

I couldn’t find the words to reassure her, so I decided to show her what she meant to me. I lay back on the bed and gently pulled her down next to me, then began kissing her throat, my hands moving up from her waist. The soft warmth of her body heated mine, and I couldn’t help pressing myself over her, wanting to feel her everywhere.

But then she froze underneath me and spoke the words I’d been dreading since the moment I told her that I wanted her.

“No, Sebastian,” she gasped, pushing me away.

I stopped immediately, my heart shuddering as my stupid body fought to continue what we’d started. I took a deep breath and rolled away from her, forcing a smile to my face. I wasn’t sure if she meant not now, or not ever, or no fucking way. But she wasn’t making me leave, so I kept the smile glued to my face, even though she looked like she was about to bolt.

And then I had an idea that might help her to relax.

“Let’s just make out,” I suggested.

She seemed stunned, as if she’d expected me to get up and leave.

“Make out? As in…”

“Lie on the bed, watch trashy TV in French or German—your choice—and make out,” I clarified.

I raised my eyebrows challengingly, then sat up and shrugged out of my jacket, dropping it on the floor, before unbuckling by boots and tossing them into the corner with my socks.

Caro used to tell me that she thought my feet were sexy. I remember thinking, What the fuck? but I’d use everything I had—whatever that was.

I grabbed a couple of pillows, piled them against the headboard and launched myself backward.

“Where’s the remote?”

She pointed silently to the cabinet on her side of the bed and I leaned across her to retrieve it. She didn’t flinch as I rubbed up against her, so I took that as another good sign.

She watched as I surfed through a few channels before I found some badly-dubbed TV show, then grinned up at her, patting the space on the bed beside me.

She blinked and seemed undecided. I held my breath while she unlaced her boots and dropped them next to mine. But then she crawled up on the bed next to me, and I pulled her into my arms so she was resting against my chest. God, the memories this brought back. The many times we’d made love—but never enough. I kissed her forehead, and settled back on the pillows with a sigh when she snuggled into me.

“This feels good,” I said, a deep contentment flowing through my body. “Should we order room service?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Would you mind if I ordered myself a beer?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t mind.”

I pulled the hotel telephone toward me to order a beer and a sandwich, then relaxed with my arm around her, enjoying the scent of her hair, her body soft against mine. I wanted more, but I could wait.

The Swiss were efficient, I’ll give them that. The beer arrived within five minutes, and the ‘sandwich’—an enormous French baguette—was stuffed with cold cuts, lettuce and tomato.

Result! I grabbed the bread and started inhaling it as quickly as I could. A broad grin spread across Caro’s face.

“Food instead of sex?” she asked, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth.

I nearly choked, but managed to swallow in time. Hmm, swallowing. Yeah, food versus sex—it was a running joke we’d once shared. I was stupidly happy that she’d remembered.

“For now,” I teased her. “I’m still kind of hoping the sex comes later.”

“How’s that going for you?”

“Not sure: she’s playing hard to get. I was going to ply her with alcohol and have my wicked way with her, but I guess she’s wise to my game.”

“Women!” she laughed, rolling her eyes.

I finished the sandwich and brushed crumbs from my t-shirt, then lay back with the bottle of beer and wrapped my free arm around her again.

“I could get used to this,” I admitted, nuzzling her hair.

“What, badly dubbed reruns of ‘Frasier’ and TV dinners?” she snarked back at me.

“You know exactly what I mean, woman.”

“Oh, ‘woman’, is it?” she said, thumping me on the chest.

Something snapped inside me, and I couldn’t pretend any longer.

“Yes, a beautiful, amazing, talented, gorgeous woman.”

Caro’s brown eyes stared up at me and I saw the uncertainty and lack of belief in herself that had always plagued her. Maybe she hadn’t changed as much as I’d thought.

I placed my beer on the bedside table, then pulled her gently into my chest, caressing her ear, gently sweeping her hair aside. I studied her face carefully before leaning in to kiss her, a soft reassuring kiss—nothing that would scare her away again.

My mouth drifted across her face, tasting, teasing, hovering over her eyelids, brushing over her chin, then returning to rest on her full lips.

Her hand crept up my stomach then inched across my chest, pausing for a moment just over my heart. I was sure she’d feel how fast it was beating, then my cool, calm cover would be blown.

She lifted her hand to cup my cheek, and I turned my face to kiss her palm.

I pulled her in more tightly, so she was half-lying across me, and I ran my hands up her spine while I kissed her neck. I was so turned on I was finding it hard to keep control as I ran my tongue over her throat, then tugged on her lower lip, begging to be inside her one way or another … and then I was, and my heart swooped and spun, like an airplane about to crash and burn.

She moaned against my lips, a long, drawn-out sigh of need and pleasure as she hooked her leg over my thigh, pulling our bodies closer together. My balls were aching and my dick was granite, trying to climb out of my jeans to get to her.

The kiss deepened, but whether it was her or me, I couldn’t tell. My hands dropped to the waistband of her jeans and I pulled her t-shirt free, at last reaching bare skin, before I played with the elastic of her bra. Too soon, moron! my brain screamed at my dick, so I dropped my hands down to cup her ass.

She trembled, and I froze. Was I pushing her too fast? Was this going to blow up in my face again?

She pushed away from me and my heart jolted, but then she reached up to touch me.

“Are you sure, Caro?” I asked quietly.

“I’m sure,” she said.

Then she sat up and pulled off her t-shirt. I nearly swallowed my tongue.

Her breasts were every bit as good as the warm flesh that had haunted me in too many dreams for too many years. I yanked my own t-shirt over my head, ignoring the ripping sound as they tangled with my dog tags. I was desperate to feel her skin against mine.