“I knew it was what you wanted,” he said simply.

Her eyes widened. “You let him fuck me because it was what I wanted?”

“Can you think of a better reason? I knew it turned you on. I can read your body language. As soon as he touched you, your pulse went up, your breathing sped up and you were instantly aroused. You wanted it and so I gave it to you.”

She touched his cheek, stroking the strong line and exploring the light rasp of stubble. “Thank you. For everything. Not just Mike and C.J. and all the pampering. But thank you for those memories. It was a wonderful few days.”

He captured her hand and kissed the inside of her palm before letting it go once more. “You’re quite welcome.”

They arrived home a few minutes later and Cole ordered her to bed. He did it laughingly because he could see she was falling over with fatigue. She gratefully crawled between the covers and melted into the pillows. She didn’t even remember him coming to bed. She slept long and hard but when she awoke the next morning, he was wrapped around her, a reminder that she belonged to him.

She smiled and then kissed his neck. Then she began extricating herself from his hold.

“Where you going?” he mumbled sleepily.

“Work,” she answered softly. “I want to work for a while. I haven’t written in days. I want to finish.”

He kissed her forehead. “Okay. I’ll check on you later.”

And he did. But she was so immersed in her writing and her drawings that she waved him away, her lips pursed in absolute concentration. She was compelled to finish the story and the drawings. They were so clear in her head that she feared if she took even a break that everything would disappear before she could get it down.

She worked through the day and into the night. Cole brought her a tray of food and left it on the desk beside her but crept quietly away, not disturbing her or insisting she stop.

After over twenty-four hours of work, she sat back in her chair and rotated her stiff neck. Her back was killing her. Her muscles were stiff and sore and her eyes felt like sandpaper every time she blinked.

But she was finished.

She closed the journal where she always completed the preliminary draft and caressed the aged, soft leather. Then she secured the ties around the floppy manuscript and held it to her chest.

Already she knew what she would do with it. She had a hard copy on her computer. She’d scanned in her drawings and compiled everything into one file to send to her publisher. But this copy would go to Cole. She could hardly wait to show it to him. Would he recognize the story? Would he see himself and Ren in the pages?

Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she clutched the journal to her chest and hurried off to find Cole. He wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen so the next logical place to find him would be his office.

She stopped outside his door when she heard his voice through the cracked door. He was on the phone.

She pushed open the door to peer inside and her gaze connected with Cole’s. He motioned her inside and held up one finger to signal he’d only be a minute.

She wandered in and took the seat in front of him. She settled back and let her gaze drift over him and his surroundings. She’d seen his office but she’d never really spent any time in it. Certainly not when he was conducting business.

He was even dressed for the office. Sort of. Or at least he had been. At one time he’d been wearing a tie, a long-sleeved white shirt and slacks. At the moment his sleeves were rolled halfway up his arm and his tie was loosened so it hung halfway down his chest.

Or maybe he’d even gone to a meeting while she’d been closeted in her office.

He rang off then put his phone down, turning his gaze on her. “Hey. You okay? You look tired.”

She pulled the journal away from her chest and placed it on the desk. “I finished.”

She pushed it toward him, suddenly nervous. What if he hated it? What if he didn’t see the parallels between the story played out in the pages of a children’s book and their own?

“You want me to read it?” he asked hesitantly.

She nodded. “It’s for you. I mean, this is. I always do my rough draft in a journal such as this and I keep them but I want you to have this one.”

“Is it okay if I read it now? I’ll call down for breakfast. You can go down and eat or I can have it brought up here. Entirely up to you.”

She nodded. “I’ll eat up here with you if that’s okay.”

He smiled. “I’d like that. Make yourself comfortable.”

Taking him at his word, she found the couch, but more than the comfort it offered, she wanted away from him where she couldn’t see his facial expressions as he read her story.

He leaned back in his chair and carefully opened the journal. She watched from the corner of her eye as he turned each page, his forehead creased in concentration.

A moment later, a knock sounded and the woman Cole employed to run his kitchen came in bearing a tray of breakfast for Ren. She set it on the coffee table in front of the couch where Ren sat and then backed away, disappearing as quickly as she’d come.

Ren smiled. All her favorites. A cup of hot chocolate. A toasted bagel with cream cheese with scrambled eggs and bacon piled on top.

She settled down to eat but she still kept subtle watch on Cole. When she finished, Cole was still deep in concentration, and she knew she couldn’t be here when he finished.

She rose and wiped her hands down her pants. “I’m, uhm …I’m going to go grab a shower. I’ve been up forever. Need to brush my teeth. Do all my girlie stuff.”

Cole looked up from the journal, blinking as if he’d forgotten she was there. “All right. I’ll find you later.”

She fled the room, grateful to have an excuse to leave. She did shower but did none of the girlie stuff she’d hinted at. She didn’t even dry her hair but rather combed it straight, dressed and then went outside into the garden.

There was a nip in the air and she breathed deeply, enjoying the scent of smoke either from burning leaves or perhaps a nearby chimney.

She wandered down one of the spiraling pathways to a fountain in the center of the garden. She sat on the bench and listened to the soothing bubble of water splashing over the rim.

She was finished. Another book done. With each project she completed, though there hadn’t been many yet, she always feared being able to duplicate the creativity that went into creating the story. What if she couldn’t do it again?

Lucas had laughed over her fear and told her that she was brilliant and that only brilliant people worried about not being brilliant any longer.

It hadn’t made sense to her but she liked the idea that someone found her intelligent. She didn’t always feel smart for some of the choices she’d made.

For how long she sat, soaking up the peace and tranquility around her, she wasn’t sure but she heard footsteps and looked up to see Cole walk toward her, the journal in his hand.

Her mouth went dry. Why did his opinion matter so much? She should be able to shrug it off. Subjectivity and all that jazz.

He sat beside her and for a long moment didn’t say anything at all. Then he turned to her, his eyes full of wonder.

“You’re amazing, Ren. I’m so damn proud of you.”

Her cheeks warmed and she went limp with relief. Joy shot through her veins like a dose of adrenaline.

“You liked it?”

“Liked it? I think like is way too tame of a word to describe my reaction. You’re so talented. The pictures, the way you turn a phrase. Your writing is very evocative. It’s very …nostalgic. God, it made me think of so many things in my childhood that are bittersweet.”

He reached up to touch her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her skin. “And it reminded me of us.”

Her chest ached and her throat knotted. “It was us. In a way. Perhaps a younger and more innocent us. A fledgling friendship but a relationship that meant the world to them as ours meant the world to us.”