Come A Little Bit Closer (The Sullivans #7)(43)

A heavy cement block landed on his chest. “You’re not going to tell her about us.”

She shifted out of his arms and sat up partway on the bed, using the crumpled sheets to cover her beautiful naked skin.

“No,” she said softly, “I’m not.” She licked her lips. “I don’t regret what happened last night. Or this morning.” The hazel of her eyes met his, so steady and so beautiful that his entire chest squeezed even tighter. “But I thought you of all people would know how this is supposed to play out.”

He worked to keep his expression impassive. “Tell me, Valentina, how is that?”

In her frustration, she sat up higher on the bed, cross-legged so that the sheets slipped to reveal a luscious stretch of hip and thigh. “You’re supposed to move on to your next conquest. Everything is supposed to finally go back to normal.” Her voice rose a little more with each sentence, until she was practically yelling at him, “Now that we’ve had sex, you’re supposed to be done with me!”

He let her slide out of the bed, closing the bathroom door and locking him out for a few minutes.

Now that he’d had her, he thought as he dragged on a pair of jeans, they were anything but done.

Smith was in the kitchen pouring two cups of coffee when Valentina came out ten minutes later, fully dressed, her hair still damp around her shoulders, her shoes on, her bag in her hand.

“Stay for a cinnamon bun, Valentina.”

She looked with surprise at the plate at the center of the breakfast table by the window. Her stomach growled even as she said, “Why are you making this so much harder than it has to be?”

“It doesn’t have to be hard.”

It was what he wanted to show her, what he knew she believed in her heart of hearts—that love didn’t have to be hard. He thought again about what his mother had said to him on the phone: “Sometimes it’s harder to admit to ourselves that we want love than it is to keep living without it. Don’t give up on her.”

With that sage reminder echoing in his head, Smith took Valentina’s bag from her clenched hands and put it down, then pulled out the chair for her. She looked for a moment like she would mutiny, until with a sudden sigh, she sat down.

“You really don’t play fair, do you?” She pulled off a piece of the cinnamon bun and popped it into her mouth on a greedy little sound of pleasure. “These truly are some of the best things I’ve ever eaten. Dripping with sugar, just the way I like them.”

He couldn’t stop smiling at her as he ripped off a piece for himself. Nor could he stop himself from leaning over to lick off the sugar glistening at the corner of her mouth. “I like it, too.”

She opened her eyes and glared at him. “Smith.”

He grinned back at her. “Valentina.”

She tried to hide the twitch of her smile by turning away and letting her hair fall over her face.

But he saw it.

When she’d finished eating breakfast, had washed her plate out in the sink, and was turning to say what he knew would be a very polite goodbye, Smith took her into his arms.

“Thank you for letting me love you last night.”

He took her mouth a moment later, devouring the hints of sugar and spice that remained on her already sweet lips. When he finally made himself pull back, her big eyes had already gone hazy again with desire, and her skin was flushed with heat. And yet, he could see how hard she was working to fight what she was feeling.

He wasn’t twenty-one anymore and life didn’t revolve around sex, no matter how great it was. Which meant he also understood that the reason sex with Valentina had been so mind-blowing wasn’t because she’d been a conquest. It wasn’t because she’d been a mystery he’d been dying to solve, either.

No, it had been because she mattered to him. On a far deeper level than any other woman ever had.

He’d wanted to find out if she was the one.

This morning, he was pretty damn sure he had his answer.

“We can’t do this again, Smith. Things could get too messy, too quick. Even now, if Tatiana finds out where I was last night—”

“—she’d be happy for you. And for me.”

Valentina lifted her chin. “Yes, she’d be happy as long as we were happy. Until the day came when she had to take sides. She likes you, Smith, so much that it would really hurt her to have to stop being your friend just because we’re sisters who always put each other first. I don’t want to do that to her and I know you don’t, either.”

“If I wasn’t an actor, if we weren’t working together, would you want to be with me for more than just one night?”

He could see how surprised she was by his question, enough to admit, “Yes.”

And yet, a moment later, she pulled out of his arms, picked up her bag and coat, and headed for the door before adding, “But since I’ve never had a knack for playing pretend, it doesn’t matter what I wish was different, does it?”

For the rest of the day, he couldn’t get her expression out of his head. She’d looked determined, and as strong and beautiful as she always had, but underneath it all she hadn’t been able to hide the woman who wanted nothing more than to believe—and to know for herself—that the fairytale was real.

Smith couldn’t wait to prove to her that it was...and that their happy-ever-after could be even sweeter than any flashy Hollywood version could possibly be.