Burn (Breathless #3)(38)

“Michael and I used condoms,” she said quietly. “He’s the only man I’ve been with in two years. And I’m already on birth control.”

“You good with my word or you want a copy of my last medical exam?” he asked.

She frowned, wondering if this was some kind of a test. If she said she wanted a copy of his medical report, would it seem that she didn’t trust him? Was he asking her if she trusted him this far? But if she didn’t ask for it, if she said his word was good enough, that was taking a huge leap. And her life was too important to take those kinds of risks.

“I’d like the copy,” she said.

He nodded, seemingly unbothered by her request.

“I’ll make sure you get it this afternoon.”

“What about me?” she asked. “Do you want me to be tested? The last time I saw a doctor was three months ago. Obviously I’ve had sex since then.”

“I’ll arrange it for this afternoon.”

Her eyes widened. “I can’t get an appointment with my doctor that quickly.”

“We’ll use mine. He’ll see you,” Ash said confidently.

She nodded.

“Now we need to discuss our arrangement here. At this apartment.”

“Okay.”

She hadn’t meant it to sound hesitant. But things seemed much simpler in the abstract. Now that they were actually hashing out specifics, she was nervous and on edge.

“No way to do this except to be blunt,” Ash said, his voice soothing. “I know you’re nervous, but we’ll talk it out and then deal.”

She took a deep breath and then nodded.

“This apartment is not convenient to public transportation. Which is just as well, because I’d prefer having the security of knowing you’re safe when you leave here. Which means that my driver will take me to work in the mornings and pick me up in the afternoons. Between those times he’ll return here and be at your disposal. But, and this is not me being a controlling ass**le, I want to know where you go, when you go, and I want to know you’re safe while you’re doing it.

“Now we need to sort your apartment out and get what you need from there. You’ll move it here, whatever you need. I have an office and extra bedrooms. You can use whatever space you like to paint or draw. I thought the living room might be the best choice simply because you’ll have more light and you’ll have the view of the river.”

She felt light-headed. Like everything around her was moving at the speed of sound while she stood stock-still, trying to take it all in.

“I’ll want and need you to be flexible, because when I get home every day, I want you here. Which means that I’ll stay in touch with you and you’ll do the same with me. My schedule varies. Some days I’ll be home early, and those days I’ll let you know. Others I’ll be late. If I travel—and I don’t have immediate travel plans—I’m going to want you with me. Is that something you can deal with?”

She sucked in a breath and then smiled shakily. “Do I have a choice?”

He paused a moment. “No. Those are my expectations.”

“Well, then I suppose I’ll be home when you are,” she said lightly.

He breathed out, his shoulders dipping slightly in relief. As though he’d expected her to refuse. She wondered what he would have done if she had balked? Tossed her out? Or would he have tried to reach a compromise?

He’d readily admitted his need of her. He wanted her, no doubt. But how inflexible was he really? She was curious, but she wasn’t ready to push back. Not yet. Not over something she had no real issue with. If and when the time came when he posed something she couldn’t embrace, then she would test the boundaries of their newly forming relationship.

“Just so I understand your . . . expectations . . . you basically want me here when you are. Or where you are. And you want me to tell you where I’m going and when and where. And you want me to check in with you frequently.”

It didn’t sound that demanding to her. It sounded reasonable. She didn’t want him worrying about her. Didn’t want to be a distraction for him. If he worried—and it was obvious he did—she wanted to do whatever she could to alleviate that stress.

“Yes,” he said, his eyes growing more intent. “But, Josie, you need to understand. You make it sound light. It’s not. I will be pissed if you flake. This isn’t an ‘oh sorry I completely forgot to tell you where I was going’ thing and laugh it off. I expect you to tell me everything.”

“Okay, Ash,” she said quietly. “I get it.”

He nodded. “Now, there are things you need to know about me. I don’t want this shit coming up later and surprising you or making you feel awkward. It’s better if you know everything from the start so you can deal and it doesn’t become an issue down the road.”

She lifted an eyebrow. He sounded so serious. Like he was about to drop some earth-shattering bomb on her. She wanted to joke and ask him if he was about to admit to being an ax murderer, but he was too serious and he wouldn’t appreciate her attempt at levity. So she remained silent, waiting for what he had to say.

He shifted upward, grimaced a moment and then leaned forward so he could shove a cushion between his back and the arm of the sofa. She sat forward so he had room but then he promptly snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her solidly back to him so she was once more nestled against his body.