PART 5:
I know what you are, I said quietly. I’ve known for a long time. And it doesn’t bother you? He sounded genuinely curious, like he couldn’t fathom why it wouldn’t. Of course, it bothers me. I laughed, but there was no humor in it. You’re a criminal Christian. You do things that are illegal, probably immoral.
You live in a world where violence is currency and loyalty is bought with fear. His expression shuddered. Then why? But you’re also the man who remembers I take my coffee with two sugars. Who noticed when I was working through the flu and sent me home with strict orders to rest. Who leaves Post-it notes on my desk when something I did impressed you.
Who just carried me out of a blizzard and looked at me like I was the most important thing in your world. I squeezed his hands. So, yes, it bothers me, but it doesn’t change how I feel about you. He stared at me for a long moment, something raw and vulnerable in his expression. How do you feel about me? This was it.
The moment where I could pull back, laugh it off, pretend this was just a New Year’s Eve anomaly brought on by hypothermia and champagne. I hadn’t even drunk. Or I could be honest, could step off the cliff and trust he’d catch me. Like I’ve been half alive for 2 years, I whispered. and you’re the only thing that makes me feel real. Christian’s eyes went dark.
Olivia, I know it’s crazy. I know I should probably be running for the hills, but when you kissed me, Christian, it felt like coming home. And I don’t want to walk away from that, even if it scares me. Especially because it scares me. He cupped my face in his hands, his touch reverent. You have no idea what you do to me.
What you’ve done to me since the first day you walked into my office with your chin up and your spine straight. Refusing to be intimidated by me when everyone else was terrified. I was terrified, I admitted. I just didn’t want you to know it. I knew it, he said, smiling. But you stayed anyway. You always stay, Olivia.
Even when you should run, even when anyone else would have walked away, you stay and you’re loyal and you’re brave and you’re so godamn beautiful it hurts to look at you sometimes. My breath caught. Christian, I want you, he said, his voice dropping to something rough and needy. I want you in my bed, in my life, by my side.
I want to wake up next to you and fall asleep with you in my arms. I want everyone to know you’re mine and I’m yours, but only if that’s what you want, too. It is, I said without hesitation. It’s exactly what I want. He kissed me again, and this time there was no gentleness, no holding back. This was hunger and need, and two years of denial exploding into something that felt inevitable.
his hands tangled in my hair, his body pressing against mine, and I met him with equal fervor, pouring everything I’d been feeling into the kiss. When we finally broke apart, both of us breathing hard. He rested his forehead against mine. “Stay with me tonight. Not because I’m asking you to as your boss, because I’m asking you to as a man who’s wanted you for so long, he doesn’t remember what it feels like not to want you.
” Yes, I whispered. Yes, Christian, I’ll stay. He lifted me from the chair, carried me to his bed like I weighed nothing, and laid me down on the dark silk sheets. The robe had come loose during our kiss, and I saw his eyes darken as he took in the sight of me, his gaze like a physical touch moving over my skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice reverent.
So perfect. I’m not perfect, I said, suddenly self-conscious. I’m just perfect for me, he interrupted, settling beside me on the bed, one hand tracing patterns on my bare shoulder. That’s all that matters, Olivia. You’re perfect for me. He kissed me again, slower this time, savoring it.
His hands explored with the same control he brought to everything. Learning what made me gasp. What made me arch into his touch? What made me whisper his name like a prayer? When he pulled back, we were both trembling. We should talk, he said, though his eyes said he’d rather do anything but talk. About what this means, about what happens tomorrow.
Tomorrow I’m still your secretary, I said, running my fingers through his hair. Nothing has to change at work. Everything’s changed, he said firmly. I’m not going to pretend we’re just boss and assistant anymore, Olivia. I can’t. Not after this. Then what are we? He smiled, that rare, genuine smile that transformed his face. Mine.
You’re mine, and I’m yours. We’ll figure out the details as we go, but that’s the foundation. You and me together. Together, I repeated, testing the word. It felt right. It felt like the answer to a question I hadn’t known I was asking. Christian pulled me close, tucking me against his chest, his arms wrapped around me like he was still afraid I might disappear.
I thought I lost you tonight, he said quietly. When I saw you in that snow so still and cold, I thought his voice broke and I felt wetness on my hair. Was he crying? Christian Lombardo, the most dangerous man in New York, was crying over me. “I’m here,” I whispered, holding him tight. “I’m safe.
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