Authors: JJ Moreau
The Willing (24 page)
We were finished—weren't we?
"Oliver, I can't." His hands were so warm against mine that I wanted to hang on and never let go, but I couldn't afford to think only of myself anymore. I couldn't care for Oliver and screw up his life by the same token. I made to retrieve my hands as the street lamps switched on, suddenly feeling hyperaware that we were in the middle of the sidewalk, the darkness no longer shrouding us from view. "This thing with Madam Madrigal... it's going to make things very complicated for me."
"You'll still need a friend," Oliver offered, smiling crookedly. "I can be your friend."
I wanted him to be so much more than that. "I'll need a lawyer," I countered. My hands felt empty without his to hold them, so I stuffed them into my pockets, as if that way I wouldn't feel the absence of his touch.
Oliver swallowed hard. "I went to law school?" He was stubborn and my heart ached to think he would stand with me on this. "I'm serious," he insisted. "You went into this line of work at least partly because of me. I owe you..."
"Even if that were true, it's probably not such a great idea to mix business with pleasure." By which I meant sleeping together killed any chance that he could serve as my counsel.
"So that's it?" I didn't know what to say. Oliver huffed out a ragged breath, almost but not quite a sob. "Okay. Okay... Well, then I guess I wish luck, Jo."
He made to turn, to walk away, and I reached quickly for the flap of his dinner jacket. "Hang on. I never told you this address, did I?" The thought had been niggling at me since this morning, but for some reason it only seemed to crystallize now as the fear of losing him dangled over my head.
Oliver's brows shot up, bemused. "No... I, um. I went to your old apartment before I came here," he confessed sheepishly. "I might have made a bit of a racket when I realized you'd moved. Your neighbors set me straight."
I can't explain why, but out of everything he might have said to charm me, it was that confession of reckless nerve that I found most endearing. "And now you've gone and pissed off my new neighbors, too, huh?" I queried. "If I get evicted for public disturbance because of you, I'm going to be so pissed."
"You could always move in with me," Oliver suggested. It was a heady notion: the two of us in the penthouse, together as lovers. As partners.
"Maybe someday," I hedged. "You do have a comfortable bed..."
He waited me out for a long beat, but when I wouldn't release his lapel, I think he understood what I was saying. I didn't how else to tell him that I wasn't walking away. If he wanted to cut his losses and do smart thing, that was up to him. I had taken a five year detour to get to this. I couldn't let the moment slip through my fingers.
Oliver cupped my cheeks in his warm hands. "What about your bed?"
"It's more of a mattress on a floor," I breathed.
"That's okay." His eyes were very dark and very warm. "That's fine. I don't—I'm okay with that. If you want to show me, that is..."
All I would have to do to kiss him was tilt up my head. I bit back the urge. "Ask me nicely," I challenged, "and maybe I will."
Oliver's lips tipped up into a grin. "Please, take me upstairs... domina."
I felt a shiver run down my spine at the word. It took me a moment to understand that was Oliver's way of saying he, too, was in this for the long haul.
His hand in mine, we made our way inside.
fin
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