I flipped off my heels I’d worn for Ginny. Sunlight striped over my legs from my large windows. “No, I haven’t.”
“Where are you?”
“On the floor.”
He shifted on the bed. “Why?”
“Trying a different perspective.”
“Is that right?”
I trailed my fingers over my neck. It was close enough to the truth that I went with it. “I’m looking at you on my wall.”
“Now it gets interesting.”
My lips slid into a slow smile. I could never seem to hold on to my anger for long around him. I liked to think I was above being charmed, but I wasn’t so sure. “From the first time I saw you. When you stole Matilda.”
“Ah, I remember. You stole my thunder, dear Magic. You in your cute little denims and slouchy hat hiding all that fascinating hair.”
“It gets in the way.”
“Don’t cut it.”
“It’s easier to put it up.”
“Good.”
“Ian?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Ah, but you like it sometimes. I remember a sunshine-filled morning where you listened.”
My skin heated, not just where the sunshine hit, but everywhere. A flush that made everything seem hypersensitive. “Aberration.”
“I don’t think so. I think you like it when I make you feel something more.”
“You have a high regard for yourself.”
“Not really. But I do love to make you feel good.”
A little rush of sadness permeated the buzz. It wasn’t the first time he’d told me he wasn’t worthy. “You do. Too good.”
“Is there such a thing?”
“When you distract me from my work? Yeah.”
“Maybe you just need to let me inside. Fighting it is the distraction, not me.”
I didn’t have anything to say to that one. Perhaps just a little too close to the truth and the crux of my problem.
“I miss you.” His voice was a purr with that little touch of Britain.
Dammit, how was I supposed to combat this? When I so badly wanted everything he was offering.
“I miss your skin. It’s the softest thing I’ve ever felt in my life. All that ocean sticking to me after I touch you.”