Thirty Nights (American Beauty #1)(81)

“What do you think about when you come here?” I say after a while.

“Everything. This is where Hale Holdings was born. Where most of my decisions are made. And since I saw your painting, I’ve thought only of you.”

I almost take off the edge and start flying. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” he whispers in my ear. I shiver.

“I’ve only thought of you too.” My face burns as I admit this out loud.

He doesn’t say anything. The silence makes me shiver in a different way so I start talking. “Do you come here often?”

“About twice a week.” He tears his eyes from the sky and looks at me. “Sometimes I sleep here.”

“S-sleep here?” I look at the little meadow behind us.

He nods. “The ground still feels more natural at times.”

I grip him closer, trying to repel the image of him on cold ground. “I like it better when you sleep next to me.”

His muscles flex around me. “That can’t happen again, Elisa,” he says in a low voice.

My heartbeat stops, then starts racing in terror. “What?” My voice trembles.

He cups my cheek. “I can’t take that risk. What if the next nightmare is not as mild?”

Mild? That was mild? “I don’t care. I want to fall asleep next to you…see your face when I wake up.” I shut my mouth because my voice is approaching near hysteria.

“If you wake up.” His voice is hard.

I need to move away from this. Right now. “What is that light behind the trees?”

His eyebrows arch in surprise at my sudden change in direction. Then he shakes his head and smiles. “Well, now, I’m glad you asked, Elisa. Come, let me show you.” He emphasizes the word as though it should mean something more.

He rises, pulling me up. I start to stumble in my heels but he picks me up and strides across the meadow toward the soft glow in the trees. A few more days with him and I bet walking will start feeling alien. Good riddance.

“How often do you work out?” I ask, fascinated by the fact that I can barely feel him move.

“About two hours a day. I’m a wimp by my gunny’s standards.”

I laugh at the ludicrousness of Aiden as a wimp. “How do you work out if you don’t like anyone sneaking behind you?”

“I have my own gym.”

See? Simple. “What was your rank by the way?”

“Lieutenant. Now, close your eyes,” he orders in a tone befitting his grade. I obey but open wide the rest of my senses. The stunning scent is getting stronger. Twigs crack under his quiet feet. He comes to a stop and I feel his lips press gently on my eyelids.

“Open,” he says.

I open my eyes. And they almost fly off my face. My breath whooshes out of me, sharper than the hilltop wind.

“Oh!” I gasp for the third time this evening.

We are on a small, round paddock, the evergreens surrounding us. In the center is a pergola tent. The white curtains are drawn but something glimmers and flickers behind them. I’m having another tip-of-the-tongue moment so I point at the tent, my finger tapping the air impatiently.

Aiden laughs, pulling me closer to his body. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, and starts marching with his infallible Marine step. At the tent, he sets me down and opens the curtains.

“After you,” he whispers in that way that means for you.

I step inside…and freeze. Even the “oh” that is singing in my brain stops on my lips. I watch the impossible sight, unable to blink or breathe. Flameless candles. A low sini table made of wood. Covered silver plates. Ivory silk pillows for chairs. A small polished dance floor. And everywhere else, from the table top to the clusters of crystal vases surrounding the floor, are hundreds upon hundreds of the rose I never thought I would see. Aeternum romantica.

“Oh my God!” I cover my mouth with my hand as hot tears brim over and roll down my cheeks. I walk to the closest roses in a trance. They are more beautiful than even in pictures. The large, cupped rosettes are open, an infinity of neatly clustered petals nestling within. They are the palest of apricot, their hearts deepening to copper and the edges fading to vintage pearl. And their scent!

I wipe my tears because they are blurring the sight and turn to look at Aiden. He is watching me with a vivid smile, his eyes the stillest blue.

“Aiden, this is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Except you,” I breathe in awe, stumbling back to him.

“Hmm, I have to disagree.” He arches me to him. For a while, we are only kissing. A slow, potent kiss full of unsaid things. Then, he pulls away, his eyes blinking once or twice like shutters.

“Wherever did you find them?” I marvel, taking his hand and tiptoeing through the vases.

“They arrived from Nairobi late this afternoon.”

I stop, almost colliding with the table. “W-what?”

He chuckles. “Well, you were right. They really don’t grow anywhere else. I researched them after the Rose Garden.”

“B-b-but how did they get here?”

He laughs now. “In a private jet. Then in Benson’s Rover to here, with Cora’s help.”

“Bloody hell!” I shout.

He tenses, looking panicked. “What’s wrong?”

“Aiden, how much did this cost?” I’m still shouting.