Connectivity (19 page)

“Okay, enough! Shut your eyes!”

William closes his eyes. And I notice his eyelashes look so long and beautiful when he does. Oooooooh, I bet he looks so gorgeous when he’s sleeping. With his pale skin and the Chicago lights streaming into his bedroom window illuminating that lovely face—

“Mary-Kate, please take me inside my home,” William says, interrupting my thoughts. “And do not lead me into my entry table.”

I blush—luckily he can’t see it for once—and wrap my hand around his. I usher him inside and lead him to the center of his living room. I draw another nervous, excited breath and then exhale.

“Open your eyes,” I say.

I watch as he does. William’s laser blue eyes widen and he is once again assessing everything in his new living room.

“My God,” William says, looking around.

I watch as he takes everything in. I painted the walls a soft, coffee with cream color. There is a sectional sofa in dark chocolate brown rich leather. I added red and cream chevron pattern pillows to give the brown some pop, paired with woven cream pillows. Two large chairs in a charcoal velvet fabric sit across the large rustic coffee table, to add another layer of texture and color to the room. The art on the wall behind the sofa is a grouping of red and white prints and patterns to draw the eye up.

I watch as William bends over and examines the books I have strategically placed on the rustic wooden coffee table: poetry, geography, a picture book of Chicago, a historical book on London. He puts them down next to the tea service set, one that is modern and silver, that I arranged on a tray as a contrast to the rustic table.

Then his eyes go to the surprise.

On the round table, next to one of the velvet chairs, right in front of the silver lamp and vase of red tulips, are two framed pictures.

I watch as his brow creases. He slowly walks over to the table, staring at the pictures. I am not sure how he will respond to this, and I hold my breath.

William reaches for one and picks it up. A family photo of Rupert, Claire, Emma, and Charlie, taken outside of their home in Berkshire.

William jerks his head toward me, and I can see he is stunned.

“How . . . how did you get this?” William asks, his voice a whisper.

“Claire and I have been talking,” I say quietly. “And I asked her for some pictures. She emailed the files to me and I had them printed.”

William stares down at the photo in his hand. He puts it down and picks up the next one, which is of him and Rupert at a polo match.

I walk over to him and wrap my arms around him. We look at the picture together, the one taken years ago, and I see how close the two brothers are. I know William’s biggest fear is being abandoned, and that is why everyone has been kept at a protective distance.

“William, this is your family,” I say softly. “They love you so much. They will never leave you, William. Never.”

And I won’t either, if you will let me stay
.

I watch as William stares at the silver-framed picture in his hands. He swallows hard. He turns and his eyes are very soft.

“This,” William says, his voice thick, “is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you.”

William puts the picture down and takes another look around. “This . . . has exceeded my expectations, which were high to begin with, Mary-Kate. It’s brilliant. I love it.”

“I’m so glad,” I say. “The office is almost done. But I wanted this room to be perfect by the time you got home.”

“It is perfect,” he says, kissing my lips. “Perfect.”

As he lifts his head up, I see just how exhausted he is and how he is fighting it to spend time with me.

“William,” I say, cupping his face in my hands, “I should go. You are exhausted. I have already packed my things, so I can leave you to go to bed.”

“No,” William says firmly. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know, but you need to eat and get to bed,” I say, brushing a lock of his dark hair off his forehead. “I got some of your favorite green curry on my way home from work; it’s in the refrigerator. I know you need your comfort food. So if you are hungry, eat and then sleep.”

“What if I told you that is not what I need?” William says.

“What?”

“Stay the night with me, Mary-Kate,” William says, his eyes burning into mine. “I need you to spend the night with me.”

Chapter 24

I stare at him, stunned.

Oh my God.

William wants to sleep with me.

Tonight.

I feel my heart flutter inside my chest. Butterflies attack my stomach. My nerves jump in both excitement and fear. I am utterly torn in half by his words. Part of me wants to make love to William so badly I can barely stand it. I think about it all the time. I imagine what it would be like to make love to someone you were head over heels in love with, as I have never felt this way before.

Which is exactly why I am not ready.

I love William. Desperately, completely, madly love this man. We have only been together four weeks, within the same city only two.

But this is too important to me to fuck this up. I gaze into his eyes, which are holding steady with mine, and I swallow hard. I don’t want this to become all physical right away. I need to know that there could be more, I need to continue to build this like we are, so when we do have sex, everything is right for us to have a serious, committed relationship with an eye toward the future.

“Oh, God, you misunderstood,” William says, interrupting my thoughts. He frames my face with his hands. “I didn’t mean sex. I know you don’t want that right now. I mean sleep here, in the exact context of the word. Sleep. In my bed. Next to me. I just want you here. I’m not ready for you to leave, if that makes sense.”

I feel my face burn in complete embarrassment. Oh, God. Do I feel stupid or what?

“Oh,” I say. “Right. Of course.”

“I could be persuaded to sleep with you the other way,” William says, arching an eyebrow in a teasing way. “If you have that desire, I think it would be most appropriate for me to accommodate it.”

“William,” I say, laughing, “
Of course
I have the desire.”

“Really?” William says, winding his hands around my waist. “I am very intrigued by this development. Do go on.”

“William!” I cry, blushing. “You know I do! That’s why I am not sure that my sleeping in the same bed as you is a good idea. It’s too tempting.”

I look away, embarrassed. God, why can’t I just give in to this and have sex with him? Anyone else would have by now.

“Hey,” William says, turning my face toward him, “I understand and respect what you are saying. And if you stay here, which I hope you will decide to do, I will be very good. You have my word. And you know I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

I gaze into his beautiful blue eyes and know he is telling me the truth. William is fine with this. He really is. I matter more to him than the physical part of the relationship right now.

“I just need you here, Mary-Kate,” William says softly. “Please stay.”

“Yes,” I say. “I’ll stay.”

A broad smile crosses his handsome face. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, William,” I whisper. “For understanding everything.”

He responds by kissing me very gently on the forehead. “I do understand.”

I look up at him. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” William says.

“Okay then,” I say. “Why don’t you grab your bags, go take a shower, and when you come out, I’ll reheat some curry for you. How does that sound?”

“Good,” William says. “And it’s rather nice having a Bossy American around the penthouse.”

I slug him on the arm. “Go!”

He laughs and goes back out to retrieve his bags. Once I hear him in the shower, I retrieve my packed bag and do a quick change into my pajamas—flannel drawstring bottoms with a pink floral print and a pink, long-sleeved T-shirt. I throw a gray hoodie over it, and brush my hair up into a ponytail.

I go back into his kitchen and turn on his oven so I can warm the naan bread. I take the curry and rice out of the fridge and set it on the counter. I also start some water for tea, as I know William probably wants that, too.

I am just taking the bread out of the oven when William walks into the kitchen.

Oh God. I begin to rethink my idea to hold off sex when I see him wearing navy plaid lounge pants and a white T-shirt. The shirt shows off the sexy form William has—his long, lithe frame, the beautiful pale skin of his arms, the way the sleeves skimmed his biceps nicely and fits just right across his chest. I feel my breath catch in my throat as I gaze at what a wonderful canvas this T-shirt is for showing off his swimmer’s body.

He rakes a hand through his damp waves, and I about drop the sheet pan I am holding on the floor. I smell the clean scent of soap and his cologne and why am I not having sex with him right here right now? Why? Why?

“Smells good,” William says.

I jerk out of my sexual fantasy and put the pan on the range, turning my back to him. I clear my throat and do a mental reset.

“Yes, I have naan,” I say.

William moves behind me, sliding one arm around my waist and pulling me to him. He kisses my neck, which practically makes my legs go out from underneath me.

“I wasn’t,” he says between kisses, “talking about bread.”

Fuck. Do I stand a chance here?

“But since you brought it up,” William says, standing upright, putting his hands on my shoulders, “I’ll have some.”

“Let me get you some curry, too,” I say, moving over to cabinet with his bowls. “I know it is not as good as that place you told me about in London, but hopefully it will do.”

William leans against the countertop. “It will be brilliant,” he says. He yawns and rubs his hands over his face.

“William, you are going to eat and then go to bed,” I say firmly. “There is nothing on your calendar tomorrow so you can sleep in, too.”

“I’ll settle for being in the office by nine,” William says firmly.

I smile. I know better than to argue with him on that.

We reheat our food and sit down on the couch. I don’t turn on the TV. We just talk about Snap-shots and William asks for my opinion on some things, which I always love giving him. I feel so important when he does that. I mean, I am only 24, I don’t have the world experience he does, but yet William picks my brain on various issues and I feel challenged and engaged. Kind of like I do when I write. And I love that he appreciates my thoughts and values what I have to say.

I watch William as he describes his vision for Connectivity’s acquisition of Snap-shots. He might be exhausted and crossing time zones, but his passion for his company still shines through.

“I know,” William says, putting his empty bowl down on the coffee table, “that we have to keep adding new applications to Connectivity to stay relevant. I will not stand for status quo or stagnating. I will not end up like bloody Myspace.”

“And mobile growth,” I say, knowing that is William’s big mission right now. “Connectivity will grow faster there than with desktop usage, and I know that is your other major focus right now.”

William’s eyes completely light up when I say that. “Of course you get it. You always get me and where I am going, don’t you?”

Inside, I am beaming from his compliment.

“Come on, let’s clean up,” I say, standing up with my plate. “By the way, do you have any aluminum foil? I didn’t see any earlier.”

“You mean aluminium?” William says.

I turn and look at him as I walk into the kitchen. “What?”

William sighs. “That drives me bloody insane. It is al-u-MIN-i-um. Not a-LU-mi-num.”

“William Cumberland, might I remind you that you are standing in Chicago, Illinois, at this very second. Which just happens to be located in the United States of America, and we say
aluminum
!”

William laughs loudly. “How is it that I knew you would say that, my Bossy American?”

I laugh as I put my bowl into the sink, and then take William’s from his hand. “Well, your Bossy American will finish this up while you get ready for bed.
Now
.”

“You really are a Bossy American,” William says, but then immediately yawns afterward.

“Go!” I give him a slight nudge. “I’m following you in a bit.”

I tidy up the kitchen and put everything away, including al-u-MIN-i-um or whatever the hell William called it.

Afterward, I hesitate in the guest bathroom. I am actually going to bed with this man.

I look at my hoodie. If I take it off, he can see through my sleep shirt. But I can’t leave it on. Or wear a bra to bed, that’s just stupid.

I close my eyes and shake my head.
Am I seriously having this conversation in my head? What am I, a virgin??

But in a way I am. It’s as if I had never experienced any of this before. William means that much to me. And my feelings are brand new in this regard. Because everything with William is different, everything.

I take a deep breath and remove the hoodie. My heart is thumping so loud I can practically see my T-shirt move against my chest. I hang it up on the hook on the back door and nervously head toward his bedroom.

I pause before going in. I take a deep breath and enter his bedroom. I stop in the doorway. William is taking off his T-shirt, and the room is dark except for the sliver of skyscraper lights coming through the part in the curtains.

The light illuminates his lithe frame and pale skin. My eyes move over him and my pulse jumps. William has powerful shoulders, wonderfully sculpted from swimming. His abdominal muscles are defined—his swimmer’s body tapering to his narrow waist.

I swallow hard as I stare at William, this man who has my heart in his hands.
Dear God, you’re so beautiful
, I think, staring at the gorgeous man standing across the room from me.

William must feel my gaze because he suddenly looks to the doorway, where I am standing. His eyes move over my shirt, down to my breasts, and then back up to my face.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, holding his shirt in his hand.

“And so are you,” I whisper back. I walk over to the side of the bed.

There is not a sound in the room. Not one. William gently drapes his shirt over the back of a chair. He comes over to me and takes my hand in his.

“I promise I will respect you,” he whispers.

What if I don’t want you to?
I cry inside my head.

William gives me the sweetest, most gentle kiss and then presses his forehead to mine. “I do promise you that, Mary-Kate.”

“I know,” I whisper back.

We climb into bed, and William immediately puts his arm around me and pulls me to him. I rest my head against his chest and feel the warmth of his skin against mine. I listen to his heartbeat, my fingertips gently tracing circles on his ivory skin, and my eyes fill with unexpected tears.

I didn’t think it was possible to love him more but yet my heart keeps finding ways to. The fact that he is so attuned to what I need, that he is so willing to put his needs second to mine, moves me beyond words.

If this isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

As I hear his breathing shift and I know he is falling into an exhausted asleep, I vow that soon I will show him just how much I love him, in every sense of the word. I am very close to handing everything I am over to him.

Just promise me forever, William
, I think as I listen to his heartbeat.
Promise me your heart forever. Take me back to London with you. Make a life with me, William.

I gently lift my head once I know he’s soundly sleeping. His eyes are closed and an errant curl of dark hair sweeps down his forehead. I swallow back the tears as I look at the man I love with all my heart.

And I just pray he is thinking about forever with me too. That I am not just his “now,” but his “now and forever.”

Because anything less than forever would completely shatter me.

He has to be thinking that
, I reassure myself.
William has to.

With that thought tucked into my head, I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.