“I like you right now,” he said softly.

She blinked at him. “I like you right now too.”

“What about tomorrow? Will you like me tomorrow?”

Her face turned solemn. “Only in the deepest part of me.”

“What about Drew?” he asked lightly, wondering if she still longed for a man she couldn’t have.

“He likes you all the time.”

He laughed. “Yes, but what does Ella think of Drew?”

“I think that—”

George arrived once more, and Blake wanted to throw the man out. She’d been so close to revealing how she felt. Damn it.

“I brought these straight off the grill.”

Blake sat up and helped Ella do the same. “I do hope this bit of home I brought to paradise makes you happy. Perhaps you’ll consider it an olive branch of sorts.”

George removed the cover with a flourish.

“Grilled ham and cheese from Beechum’s Drugstore in Knight’s Way, South Carolina,” Blake said, his chest puffing up at the shocked look on her face. “It took bit of searching on Google to even find the blasted town, and a bit of—well, I won’t go into what I had to do to actually get the recipe—but here you go.” The woman who’d answered the phone had been very nice, but confusing, insisting the Simpsons had moved away years ago.

Perhaps she meant Ella, and not her parents. He honestly didn’t know, and the woman’s accent was so thick that he could barely make out every other word.

“I think the kitchen got it right.” He winked at George and grinned.

George gave him a quick thumbs-up before clearing the table of the appetizers.

Ella made a noise. He wasn’t sure if it was the sound of a cow dying or what, but it wasn’t a happy one. Suddenly, she slapped her hand over mouth, tears falling from her beautifully made-up eyes and making her mascara run.

“What’s wrong?” Did she need to use the loo? Should he get a rubbish bin?

She shook her head, not saying a word.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, motioning for George to take the platter away. “I thought you would like the sandwiches. You actually sounded happy when you talked about Knight’s Way.”

That only made her cry harder.

Wisely, George left the room. Blake would be sure to tip the man well later tonight.

Once the door closed behind the butler, Blake took a trembling Ella in his arms. “My darling girl, whatever is the matter?”

She sniffed. “I’m such a fraud.”

“You don’t like the sandwiches?”

“Yes. No... I don’t know.” She sniffed again, snuggling against him while smearing his shirt with makeup... and other things, but he didn’t push her away. He’d dreamed of holding her like this for years.

Only without the crying.

Or her being drunk.

Nude would have been good.

Perhaps in bed.

Shut it, York.

“Why would you do something so nice for me?” she finally asked, lifting her tear-stained face.

“Because I care about you,” he admitted. There. She knew the truth.

Her lips made a perfect O. “Why? I’ve been nothing but mean to you for the past three years.”

He brushed a damp strand of hair out of her face. “Perhaps it’s because I remember the woman who was nice to me six months before that.”

“Stupid emails.”

“No one knows, love.”

“But you know.”

“I’ve never told a soul.”

“But you could have.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I wouldn’t betray you.”

She let out a groan. “I think I’m... I need to lie down.”

So much for a romantic evening, he thought as he helped her to her feet.

With Blake’s help, Ella found her way into bed, or maybe it was his bed. She honestly didn’t know, nor did she care. She was too dizzy and too emotionally wrung out.

He’d had the kitchen make grilled ham and cheese for her. It was the only thing she could remember about her parents before they died. Actually, it was the best memory she had of them too.

She’d been four, maybe five at the most, dancing around the kitchen with her momma while her daddy cooked.

“Thank you. I didn’t mean to cry, but you surprised me,” she admitted as he took off her shoes. He undid her necklace and carefully placed it on the nightstand, then began to remove her earrings.

Such an intimate act, without even removing her clothes.

Blake’s eyes were so blue this close up, like the color of the ocean at dusk. “Never be afraid to be yourself with me, and never apologize for letting your feelings show.” He brushed a kiss against her forehead, but she tipped up her chin for more. He made a noise of dissent, but she insisted.

“Please. I need... you.”

Their lips met and she tasted him, her tongue licking the corner of his mouth. His tongue met hers. He tasted so sweet that her toes curled. He tasted better than cherry cokes.

“Ella,” he whispered hoarsely. “You’re not... if you weren’t drunk, you wouldn’t be kissing me.”

“So.”

“I want you sober.”

Their mouths met again, his body coming on top of hers. He was so large, so warm, and so male that she writhed against him. A low groan left his chest, and he pushed away from her. She grabbed for him, catching his shirt.

“Ella, I can’t. We can’t. I promise you I want you, but not like this.”

“Sleep with me? I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

He gazed down at her, indecision playing across his face. “As long as my virtue is safe from you.”

A helpless giggle/snort left her mouth. “Very safe.” Yes, she wanted him. Yes, she loved kissing him and feeling him... everything, but—she frowned.

What had she been thinking about?

The room spun, as did Blake.

Closing her eyes, she let the darkness take her.

Chapter Five

Ella woke up the next morning with a start. Unfortunately, she couldn’t claim to have forgotten everything that had transpired the night before, so it was no shock to find Blake in bed with her.

But the tender smile on his face was rather unexpected.

“Does your head hurt?” he murmured in that sexy voice of his, his fingers light on her temple as they explored.

“Not really,” she said. It didn’t. She hadn’t been that drunk. The three shots she had traveled through her system like lightning, making her giggly, talkative... and vulnerable.

“That’s good.” His blue gaze turned serious. “Feel like eating? I can order room service.”

“I’m not really hungry. More thirsty than anything,” she admitted.

He turned to one side and then back to her, holding out a glass of water. As he tipped it up to her mouth, she drank greedily while he continued to hold it. “Better?” he asked several moments later.

She nodded. “Thank you.”

For whatever reason, she didn’t immediately move to get out of bed, and he obviously took that as a sign to inch closer to her. They were both still dressed, though without shoes—or jewelry.

Her mouth quirked at the memory.

“You are lovely in the morning.”

Her eyes widened and for the life of her, she couldn’t think of a snappy comeback. “I am?”

“Very.” Reaching over her, he set the glass on the nightstand, while she came face to face with his muscular chest. The scent of him, something woodsy and male, infused her nose. Despite herself, she breathed deeply.

Her body pricked with awareness as he slid back again, his arm brushing her breasts. Her nipples hardened.

She gasped.

He froze, holding himself suspended above her. “Ella,” he said, dipping his head. “Last night, I think you wanted something more from me. This morning, I’m fully prepared to give it to you.”

Swallowing another gasp, she gazed up at his face, and then into his intense blue eyes. They were full of desire. Her gaze dropped to his full lips, lips that she had kissed last night. Ones that tasted so good her toes had curled.