Because I Love You (11 page)

“You haven't apologized, you haven't made a big gesture, and you wonder why you're having problems?”

Yes. He liked this woman. She'd keep him from believing his own press. “So, in your opinion, I should start with a big gesture. A large box of expensive chocolates, perhaps?”

“Yes, not necessarily the large part, but something personal, and it should be delivered to her office. The firm has ordered from a wonderful chocolatier in the city. The shop is called Sweet, and it's located on Park Avenue. They'll deliver today if we can get an order to them in the next hour.”

“I don't know about her office. She's very private.”

“That may be, but trust me on this, she will be charmed.” Opening her notebook, her pen was poised to write. “Now, where are the chocolates going, and to whom?”

Great. Now it was going to get a little dicey. “Ah. Her name is Leah. And she works at a law firm in the Financial District.”

Robyn's eyes grew wide. She used to be Nate's assistant, so she made the connection immediately. Leah was Leah Bayard. “Oh, Leah will love the chocolate. She brought the entire office baskets of sweets last Christmas just for putting up with her brother.”

That made him laugh. It also forced a shot of pain to go right through him. He missed her. Terribly. And he hoped it wasn't too late to get her back. Tris had never felt this helpless. It didn't help that he left after their fight the other night. He should've camped out on her doorstep, but as usual his temper got the better of him and he stormed off instead of making things right with a woman he deeply cared for.

“That sounds like Leah,” he finally said. “Let me get you my credit card so you can call and order. I'll leave it up to you.” He hesitated and grinned at her, hoping she'd take pity on him. “Make me look good.”

“I'll email you some options. You have to make yourself look good. Then I'll call and we'll place the order. You can talk to them about what goes on the card.”

“Robyn, you have saved my life.”

“Glad I could help. The only thing I ask is that you tell me how it turns out. I'm a romantic at heart and I like Leah a lot. She deserves to be happy.”

“She does. I hope she forgives me.”

“If she doesn't we'll find a new way for you to grovel. You might have to get creative.”

Robyn left the office and Tris felt a little better about his prospects. For the first time in his life, a relationship had the power to undo him. He had to admit that if he couldn't fix things with Leah, he'd be lost. Thank God for his assistant.

Moving behind his desk, Tristan opened the email Robyn just sent with a link to the website. He didn't know how he was going to decide, because the choices and combinations were infinite. But this also made him realize that even with all he did know, he needed to get to know Leah better. He knew she liked Italian food, baseball, and horses, and she seemed to have a passion for good red wine. Little things, like knowing about her love of caramel, her fondness for daisies, and the fact that she liked her eggs scrambled, were a start, but he had to know her on a much deeper level. Tris decided that if she forgave him, he was committing to learning all the little details—every one—so he wouldn't be a complete ass ever again.

The last few days had been a living hell. The way he was thinking, the way she'd gotten under his skin, made him
realize their relationship could never have been casual.

That thought should have scared the shit out of him. But it didn't. The only thing that was really scaring Tristan was the thought of losing her. He couldn't let that happen.

Reality struck like lightning. After years of playing fast and loose with women, Tristan now knew what love felt like.

*  *  *

Leah hung up the phone and dropped her head onto her desk. Idiots exhausted her, and there was no shortage of idiots who needed her for one reason or another. It didn't matter if she was snippy, sarcastic, or dismissive, they kept coming back. Four o'clock. If she wanted, Leah could leave for the day. Everything the lead counsel needed for the following day's briefing was ready to go, but what was the point in going home when the only thing waiting for her was her couch and a frozen dinner? The scenario was depressing. She didn't want to go out to a bar; she didn't want to see friends; she didn't want to do anything. So her work was keeping her company.

Tristan had been right about one thing—Tad
had
left her alone the last few days. Since the other night at the baseball game, his only acknowledgment of Leah had been a quick nod. In the long run, this could mean trouble. He was an equity partner in the firm and she had no idea what he might do, but for now she'd take his disinterest as blessed relief.

Voices rose outside her small office. A small commotion of laughter and exclamations. Leah wondered if she'd missed somebody's birthday. But then she heard her name, and she went to see what was happening.

“Oh my goodness,” she gasped. Upon entering the bull pen where the legal secretaries and junior associates had their desks, she saw her assistant carrying a beautiful silver-foiled box, tied with a navy-blue satin ribbon.

What. The. Hell.

“Leah, this is for you.” Sarah was smiling ear to ear.” Please tell me this is from the guy who keeps calling you?”

“I won't know until you give me the card.” Examining the box, Leah discovered it was from a very exclusive midtown confectioner. Someone was trying to get to her heart through her stomach. Once she had the card in hand, her fingers froze. Did she want to see this? Did she want to open herself up to Tristan and the heartache he represented for a second time?

Gathering her nerve, Leah opened the card. It was handwritten, his familiar scrawl letting her know he made an effort. The message was simple, the sentiment clear.

Please give me another chance.

He didn't try to explain, or beg. This was a plea to make things right. However, as she held his words on the simple embossed card, Leah didn't know if she had the guts to try. One deep breath, and then another. And another. Breathing was the only thing keeping her calm; focusing on the air in and the air out gave her brain something to do.

Once she was back in her office, Leah untied the large bow and looked inside. Her sweet tooth was lusting after every morsel before she even opened the box. When she did, she gazed at two dozen truffles. Perfect, handmade truffles.

The smell was divine. The combination of milk and dark chocolate filled her office with the most delicious aroma.
Examining the contents, she saw a variety of treats. The little guide provided by the confectioner allowed her to find her favorite. Caramel.

Plucking the small milk chocolate candy from its sleeve, Leah bit into the perfection.
Bliss.
She enjoyed every bite, but then something caught her eye. In the spot where the candy had been was a little note, handwritten by Tristan.

Did you pick this one first? I thought you might.

Floored that he would be able to identify the candy she would choose, Leah thought about what it all meant. What was he trying to prove?

Sitting in her chair, Leah grabbed her phone and thought about what she was going to do. A text would be easy, a phone call more polite. Her good manners were making her lean toward the call. But Leah was a coward.

She was also charmed.

Just as she was about to send him a message, her phone pinged with a message from him.

Am I forgiven?

Man, he was pushy. She'd just gotten her present. But she smiled, nonetheless.

I'm thinking about it.
Thinking about him in any way was hazardous to her heart, but she had to give him points for trying.

Please?

I don't know,
she typed, not wanting to let him off too easy.
You're too bossy for me.

I'm bossy?

That's not how you beg for forgiveness, in case you're wondering.

There was a pause that was long enough to make her wonder if he'd already given up. But then another message came in.

Was I right about your first pick?

He did not play fair. There was something intimate and special about knowing what she would like, and as with so many things, he'd known. It would serve him right if she lied and told him she was allergic to chocolate. But she didn't. Too touched by his actions and words, instead she typed,
Yes.

There was another long pause before he sent the message that pretty much won him the game.

I've missed you. And I'm so sorry.

That was it. He had her. Leah's heart had been aching for him, and there was no way she wouldn't give him another chance. Maybe that meant something. In the past, if that fight had been with anyone else, it would have been death to the relationship, but in this case it was more a redirection. She didn't know where this journey would take her, but for the first time in her life, Leah felt the possible payoff outweighed the risk.

Positioning her thumbs over the keypad, she typed.
I've missed you, too.

There was the ping of a text, but it wasn't her phone. Looking up, she saw Tristan, shoulder pressed into the doorframe,
his collar open, looking down at his phone.

Once he read the text he looked up at her and grinned in relief. “Thank God.”

Thank God
was her thought, as well. Leah had to keep herself from going to him, resisting the strong need to be in his arms. As much as she wanted him to hold her, she held back because of the rather substantial audience that had gathered outside her office.

He approached, however, and took her hand. “Are you done for the day?”

“I am,” she whispered.

“Am I forgiven?” He was looking wonderfully sheepish, but at the same time his voice sounded like hot sex. Sex. With Tris.

Make-up sex
. Leah was going to have make-up sex. Could this day get any better?

“Are you ready?” He was still holding her hand, playing with her fingers in a way that appeared innocent, but was so very seductive. When he leaned in and whispered in her ear, she melted. “I can't wait to get you alone. I have a lot of apologizing to do.”

Leah wasn't about to give up her advantage for a second. He wanted to apologize, that was fine with her. “I think groveling might be in order, and begging. So you'd better bring your ‘A' game.”

Picking up the chocolates, Tristan led her from the room. “I always do, love.”

They passed Tad Carr on their way out of the building and Tris flipped him a mock salute. The guy was such a prick. There was something about him that definitely rubbed Tristan the wrong way.

His first order of business, however, was to put a smile on Leah's face. His conversation with his assistant did more than just give him an idea for a gift. After Robyn left his office, Tristan hatched a plan. It included a quick getaway, so he'd have time to properly apologize. Then the two of them were going to have a heart-to-heart talk, because this thing between them was more than either one expected. Tristan was falling in love with her, and he had to find some way to let her know without actually saying it.

Because if he did say it to her, if the words slipped out, she'd bolt like a spooked filly. Leah wasn't ready.

They were walking across the large concourse in front of her building when Leah stopped short, her eyes locked on the car at the curb. “What did you do?”

Kissing the top of her head, Tristan brought her to the car where a uniformed driver was waiting. He nodded cordially, opened the door and asked Tristan where they would like to go first.

“You might as well head out of the city. We are going to hit a bit of traffic, and it's a couple of hours to Greenport.”

“Greenport?” she asked. Tristan smiled. Keeping her off guard was going to make the evening that much more interesting.

“Jason loaned us his yacht for the evening. That's where it's docked.”

“Wow, you really planned this out.” He wasn't sure what she thought at that moment. This whole thing could backfire if she thought he was grandstanding. Leah had no patience for people who threw their money around, but he wanted time alone with her.

Leaning forward, he instructed the driver to put up the smoked privacy glass. Once it was secure, he turned back to his lovely date and kissed her.

“I am sorry. I was an opinionated prig. I do have Jason's blessing to take you to the yacht for a little time alone. If you'd rather not, just say the word.”

He could see she was thinking. “I appreciate your asking me first, rather than assuming what I'd want. I've never been on his yacht. I'd love to go with you.”

He breathed out. “I am so, so sorry that I made you so angry. I never meant to imply, in any way, that you couldn't make decisions or take care of yourself at work. I won't apologize for caring, or for defending you. But I should have handled it differently.”

“Thank you. I'm sorry I flew off the handle the way I did. I'm so sensitive about being controlled and how people might perceive me at the office, that I took all my insecurities out on you.”

“I don't mind a good argument,” he said, kissing her palm. “But please don't shut me out like that. We can solve anything if we talk about it.”

“Oh, Tristan. I'm not very good at this.” She leaned into his shoulder, and he could relate completely. He sucked at it, too. But for her he was willing to learn.

“We're testing the waters together, and we're going to make mistakes, but you have to trust me. I care about you. You can tell me to stand down, you can tell me I'm being an ass, but if you cut me off, things won't get better.”

“I'm sorry. I told you I was difficult.”

“That you are, but I'm stubborn as well, so don't think I'm going to let this go without a fight.”

Turning, Leah slipped her arms around his waist and gazed up at him. “I'm glad you didn't give up.”

“I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I let you go and didn't try to fix it. I'm not ready to give you up. I don't know if I ever will be.”

Silence fell between them. He couldn't believe he'd said that to her, and, based on the stunned expression on her face, she couldn't either. He'd pretty much just declared he was in love with her.

“Tris? I, um, really think you should kiss me now.”

A tear tracked down her cheek and he wiped it gently with his thumb. “Don't cry.”

“I've been crying for days. I was so wrapped up in my own anger, I didn't listen. I know you care. I know were thinking of me, but I'm not used to that. I'm so sorry. I don't want to lose you, either.”

“You don't have to apologize.” He brushed the hair away from her face and kissed her soft lips. Her taste, so sweet and familiar, lingered there, teasing him—tempting him—to kiss her again.

He did. But unlike the passionate kisses they'd shared, before, these were kisses of forgiveness, of trust, of permanence. For months he rationalized all the reasons he couldn't commit to a relationship. He tried to convince himself that Leah was just a friend, but she was so much more. He sipped her lips, cupping her face in his hands, and thinking of ways he could show her how much she meant to him.

“I can't believe we're going to Jason's yacht. Wait though. I don't have any clothes.”

He sat back in the seat. “Don't be angry with me.”

“Why?” She narrowed her eyes.

“You left some clothes at my apartment,” he reminded her.

“So you brought them?”

“No, I took what I had to Saks and Barneys and asked the personal stylists to find some things in your size. There's a bag in the trunk. Lingerie, clothing, shoes. Toiletries.”

“You really went all out. You didn't even know if I'd say yes.”

He kissed her temple, taking in the breezy smell of her hair. “I was hopeful.”

This time, she kissed him. It was hotter, sparked a little brighter, and he fought to keep his desire under control.

The thing was, she had no intention of doing the same. As she deepened the kiss, his hand slid up her leg, under her skirt, and stopped short when he felt the silky panties.

“Touch me, Tristan.”

His finger stroked her center through the fabric.

She shuddered in response and he did it again, and again, finally easing aside her panties and sinking a finger deep inside her. She was wild, and he was so jacked up he might come just watching her.

Each touch, pinch, or stroke brought her more pleasure. Her eyes drifted shut, as he brought her closer and closer to release and she rewarded him with the most beautiful sounds. She whimpered, moaned, whispered his name, all while clinging to him.

She didn't stop moving until her nerve endings fired in unison, giving him a spectacular orgasm to watch. Her whole body tensed and shuddered as she called out. He never expected her to ride his hand like that, but everyone gets carried away sometimes.

Snuggling next to him, Leah hummed. “Promise me you're taking me to bed as soon as we get on that boat.”

He laughed. “Promise.”

*  *  *

Leah hadn't been able to sleep, but the man next to her was snoring like an old hound. He was so handsome, though, lying there on his back, arm stretched over his head. The moonlight came in through the stateroom window bathing his body and face in soft, blue-tinged light.

She had to give Tristan an
A
for his massive apology. The man had gone all out. From the candy, to the gourmet dinner on a yacht, to the impromptu cruise and some of the most amazing sex of her life, it had been perfect. But she still didn't know how to deal with her growing feelings. This relationship was a train wreck waiting to happen and Leah didn't know how to stop it.

He was a puzzle. On one hand Tristan pushed every one of her buttons, telling her what to do, and making declarations like a king. On the other, he was generous, kind, and sweet. Leah had fallen for him hard, and it was the last thing she expected.

Rising from the bed, she grabbed a throw from a corner chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. Maybe a few breaths of sea air would help her sleep. It couldn't hurt. There were a million things running around her head, the charming Brit at the top of the list.

She made her way from the stateroom through the living room. Leah would never get over the size of this boat. Leah had grown into herself crushing on Jason or Owen Kent, in her early teen years. The men had become friends their very first year of high school, and even though there'd been some tough times and some serious disagreements, it was a bond that Leah admired and envied.

Now, the men were self-made billionaires and of the three of them, Jason lived the most opulent life. The yacht was just one part of it.

When she stepped outside, into the sheltered seating area, she sank into one of the large sofas, pulling the throw more securely around her body, to ward off the stiff breeze and cold ocean air.

There was nothing to see but moonlight and ocean as she looked out, and Leah wondered what the boat looked like on the open water at night. The area where she was sitting was illuminated by a few dim lights, as was the rest of the deck. Based on the fact that she couldn't see any lights from shore, Leah figured they were out in the Atlantic.

After arriving in Greenport, the captain informed them they would be pulling out of the harbor. She and Tris stood on the deck huddled together while the yacht, watched by curious onlookers, motored past Shelter Island, Orient Point, and then Gardiners Island before hitting open water. The rest of the night was a cruise to nowhere, and in the morning, a car would pick them up at a dock in East Hampton. It had been a perfect night, a perfect apology, and their relationship had broken new ground. Unfortunately, Leah, who was so in love with Tristan it hurt, didn't know where it was all going. Sure, they were in a committed relationship, but things could change when the emotional obligation turned out to be too much.

The man was a commitment-phobe by his own admission, and Leah wasn't much better herself. But they meant something to each other. And now she had to get her head around whether or not there was a future with this man. A real future.

He was wonderful. Not perfect by any stretch, but he was perfect for her.

“Leah? Are you out here, love?”

God, she loved his voice, loved listening to him talk. Everything about it, from its tone and depth, to his clipped English accent, hearing him warmed her all over. “I'm over here.”

He'd pulled on a plush terry cloth robe, and watching him move toward her sparked her desire. She'd never believed just the sight of someone would have you wanting them, but that's how it was with Tris.

“What's wrong?” He sat next to her on the sofa, pulling her close.

“Can't sleep. I thought some fresh air might help.”

“Come on. It's freezing out here. There's tea in the galley. Let's try that instead of hypothermia.”

Leah chuckled, going with him as he stood. They walked together hand in hand, leaning into each other, enjoying the solitude and closeness.

“You don't think Robert will have a fit if we mess up his kitchen?” she asked, referring to the steward who saw to the passengers' comfort.

“Who do you think showed me where to find the tea?”

“Ah. Hopefully there's something without caffeine.”

Tris's robe fell open when he reached for the tea, and Leah sighed as she got to enjoy the view. He had two tattoos. One armband that was wonderfully Celtic for such a die-hard Brit, and on his side the words “
Sine Metu
” were inked under his arm.
Without fear.
Tristan certainly lived like that, worrying about nothing, just doing. Moving forward and finding strength
in change.

She wished she could be that decisive. Her every decision was measured and cautious. At times it held her back. She wondered what made him tick. Where did he get his drive?

“I've been trying to think of a diplomatic way to ask, but why do you have a phrase that is proudly displayed on a famous Irish whiskey tattooed on your very English self?” He looked down at his side and back up at her. The grin was lethal.

“I love Jameson's?” He shrugged when she narrowed her eyes. “No? It's Latin. Ancient. My da used to say it to all of us while we were growing up.” He popped two herbal tea bags into mugs and put hot water from the dispenser at the sink into each.

“Latin. Okay. I wasn't aware.”

“My father was the headmaster of a boarding school for as long as I can remember, but before that he taught classics. I would not have been allowed to make such a mistake. He wasn't thrilled about the tattoo, but he was happy with the message.”

“Your father didn't believe in fear?” Leah was afraid of everything, so this concept baffled her.

“Oh, shit, no. He believed in fear and believed in its power.”

“Power?”

“Fear motivates you. It makes you work.”

“So why the tattoo? Doesn't it translate to ‘without fear'?

He gave a nod, and, with practiced ease, removed the tea bag from the mug. Handing her the steaming brew, he leaned in and kissed her. “I do everything as if I'm not afraid, even if I'm scared out of my mind. What's that expression? ‘Never let them see you sweat.'” He paused, waited, and watched. “Now, you need to do the same. Tell me what's bothering you enough that you were willing to go out on deck and freeze.”

“I wasn't going to freeze. I knew you'd come out to keep me warm.” Maybe a little flirting would distract him. She batted her eyelashes and licked her lips for good measure.

“Leah, stop it.” He pinned her to the edge of the table with his hips, his hands pushing the hair back from her face. “What's wrong? Did I do something?”

“No, it's just . . .”
Oh, what the hell.
“I guess we're passing another one of those milestones, you know? It's different for me. Intense.”

“You're not alone. I've never known a woman like you, or one who mattered to me the way you do. You're important to me. So, please tell me—we've cleared up all the old baggage, and we promised each other to let things grow slowly.”

“It's just . . . I . . .” Leah felt happy to hear the words, but didn't know if she could bring herself to say what she was thinking, to reveal how she was feeling to him. “You're wonderful,” she said on a breath. “So wonderful . . .”