Chapter Twenty-Two
“I need to make love to you again.” Ransom’s words were as beautiful as the love sonnets he’d been reading to her.
The fading sun still warmed her as she opened her eyes, but the flame in his gaze heated her all the way through.
“It was totally hot in my office earlier,” she said, gazing up at his beautiful face. “But this time I want hours with you in a real bed.”
Then it seemed like only moments before they were entering Ransom’s Pacific Heights flat. Ava gasped. “How did you manage all this?”
The dining table was laid with a damask cloth, the champagne glasses were crystal, the silverware actual silver, the plates real porcelain, and a sideboard held silver warming trays. Beneath the damask, the intricately carved table legs added to the elegance, the chairs facing the lights of the harbor.
As dusk fell, the living and dining room lay in shadow. They were beautiful in their simplicity, a white leather sofa, a chrome-and-glass coffee table, matching end tables, a state-of-the-art sound system, and a flat-screen TV bigger than the span of her arms.
Through his floor-to-ceiling windows, the dark bay overlooked Sausalito, Tiburon, Alcatraz, and a brightly lit dinner cruise sailing through the dark waters.
“I have a restaurant in the city, remember?”
He’d made a phone call, but when? Then again, discovering the logistics might strip away the romance of it all.
Ava lifted the lid of the first warming dish and moaned as she breathed in the scent of the hearty goulash.
“Czech goulash, not Hungarian,” he said.
“You know that’s my favorite.” Another foodie love letter. “Hungarian is good, but it’s soupier. The Czech is thicker.” Her mouth watered, not just for the goulash, but for Ransom. “I haven’t had goulash in years.”
She hadn’t bothered because no one, except the Czechs themselves, could make it like Ransom.
He opened another warming tray to reveal the traditional white dumplings.
“You actually serve this at your restaurant?” she asked in awe.
He raised a brow. “Of course. It was one of your favorites. And Honorine approved of adding it to the menu.”
Her heart beat like a drum in her chest. “You never stopped thinking about me?”
His beautiful gaze on her, he shook his head. “I told myself it was because you had such excellent taste. But everything I made was for you.”
Ava threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing every part of his face until he took her cheeks in his palms and held her still for the most delicious, ravishing kiss.
Then he whispered, “May I serve you?”
He created a perfect plate, the goulash with three perfectly round dumplings placed delicately around the edge soaking up the juices. He accompanied that with vegetables.
“For color,” he told her. Bright green broccoli, carrots that popped orange, and white cauliflower, all heavily roasted with a hint of char.
“Please sit.” He pulled out her chair, sneaking it back in to bring her close to the table.
He sat beside her, and for a moment, they simply enjoyed the view of stars and moon and the illuminated spires of the Golden Gate.
Then she dug in. “Every morsel is perfect,” she said, gobbling it all down despite the snap dog they’d had in the park.
When they were done, the last of the dumplings wiping up the stew’s remnants, he whisked away the plates, returning with two bowls and setting one in front of her.
“English trifle?” Her voice rose with wonder. “Is it as good as Fernsby’s?” Fernsby’s trifle was incomparable.
He raised an eyebrow. “Who do you think taught me how to make it?”
The combination of bananas, ladyfingers soaked in sherry, strawberry jam, and whipped cream melted on her tongue.
“And?”
She lowered her voice as though Fernsby lurked just around the corner. “Do not ever, ever let Fernsby know that I said your trifle is even better than his.”
“It’s our secret.” Ransom zipped his lips, and she wanted to kiss him. Then, once again, Ransom stood. “What would you like? Coffee, latte, mocha?”
She tugged him down by his tie. “You,” she whispered.
He pulled her up and into a kiss, going deep, teasing her with his tongue. Then, hauling her up in his arms, without even letting her catch her breath, he carried her into his bedroom.
The room was done in deep shades—a dark mahogany dresser and matching tallboy, a burgundy coverlet, navy pillows. The bed was big and masculine, just like him. He let her feet slide to the thick Persian carpet.
“What I like,” he said, a flame in his eyes, “is that you’re wearing a very feminine business suit—the consummate female executive, commanding yet sexy as hell. And now I get to strip you down to the naughty lady I know you are.”
She raised a haughty brow. “Naughty? I’ve never been naughty in my life. I’m always perfectly circumspect.”
The heat of his smile reached deep inside her. “Oh, I remember so many delicious times when you were naughty, even filthy.”
She clapped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t say another word about that. It’s our secret.”
Behind her cupped hand, he sweetly said, “Like our secret that you prefer my trifle recipe over Fernsby’s?”
She eyed him. “Is this some sort of blackmail?”
He shook his head slowly. “I’m just letting you know I love your secret self.” Then he lowered his mouth to hers and made the secret parts of her burn for him.
Instead of ripping their clothes off like this morning in her office—had it really only been this morning?—they made undressing a slow dance.
Ransom peeled her suit jacket down her arms. She pushed the jacket off his wide, muscled shoulders. He slipped the buttons loose on her blouse. She pulled his tie free and undid every shirt button, each one punctuated by a kiss.
Standing back, Ransom gazed at her in just her bra and skirt and heels. “My God, your breasts are beautiful.”
Then he stepped in, cupping her, tweaking a tight bead through the lace.
Ava moaned. He’d always made her moan like that.
And he always would.
* * *
Ransom salivated for her, but before he let her skirt fall to the floor, he spoke the truth in his heart. “I love you so much. I should never have let you go. I should have followed you and gone down on my knees to beg you to take me any way you’d have me. I’m so sorry it’s taken me fifteen years to admit that.”
She placed her palm on his cheek. “Maybe we weren’t ready,” she whispered in the sweetest, most seductive voice. “Maybe we needed all that time to learn who we are on the inside.” She put her fingertips to the swell of her breasts. “Maybe we simply had to become the man and woman we are now to really understand what our hearts had lost.”
She was right. He understood his past so much better now, how the estrangement with his family had led him into not calling her. And how her past led her into walking out the door and never texting him again. They both had pasts they had to deal with. But deep in his gut and wrapped around his heart, he knew neither of them would let anything come between them again.
Pulling her close, he tugged on the zipper of her skirt. “Then let’s not waste another moment. Ever.”
He kissed her as her skirt fell to the floor, while she unbuckled his belt, unzipped him. He tasted her while he toed off his shoes and she kicked off her high heels.
Only then did he step back. “You have the most amazing taste in lingerie.” She always had—scraps of silk and lace that made his heart beat faster and his boxer briefs grow tight around him.
“I do so love how tight these are.” As she slipped her fingers under the waistband and bent to peel them away, he felt the rush of her breath on his erection.
“Ahh. Now I remember being naughty.” Her lips engulfed him, shooting pleasure to his extremities and heat to his core.
“I always loved the perfection of your mouth on me.” His words were guttural, almost dragged out of him. And he groaned.
Curling her fingers around him, she pumped in time with her lips on his crown.
Despite what they’d done this morning, despite those two magnificent releases, he was so ready, so close. He had to pull her up, and smiling, he wagged a finger at her. “Oh no. When I come, I want to be deep inside you.”
“Do you have another condom?” she asked in the sweetest tone with the deepest caramel melting in her eyes.
“Oh yeah,” he drawled.
“Well, I’m on the pill. And I’ve had very good doctor’s reports.” With her lips against his, she whispered, “So don’t use it.”
“My reports are all good too.” The thought of being skin to skin made him rock hard.
When she added, “I want to feel all of you this time. Every single—” She wrapped her hand around him. “—beautiful inch of you.”
The slow dance ended there—he damn near tore her sexy lingerie from her body. In another moment, he had her spread out on the bed like the most delicious feast ever laid before a starving man.
And feast he did. Touching and teasing, licking and sucking, until she cried out with the first of her pleasures. There were so many more to come.
Pulling on his hair, then grabbing his shoulders, she tugged him up. “Now, Ransom, now, please.”
He reared up to fill her the way she begged him to, and her body clamped down on him with the throes of her climax.
Every inch of her was sweet to him. He’d never forgotten a moment, a touch, a whisper, a taste.
He knew how to make it the best for her. Pumping slowly, her body spasming around him, he didn’t let her come down. He stroked her with his erection, just on the inside, in short, lingering caresses. Until her fingernails dug into his arms and her lips dropped his name and her eyes squeezed shut as if she’d gone to another place where there was just him inside her, just pleasure shooting through her, just the aching need between her legs.
When her limbs trembled, it was time, and he touched her sweet pearl, sliding his fingers around it, faster, then harder. Even if she hadn’t cried out, he would have felt her climax in the tight grip of her body around him, the squeeze and release. He slammed home deep inside her.
And Ava screamed.
He’d always loved that scream, loved how good he’d always made her feel. Taking her hard and high and fast, her pleasure went on endlessly until she dragged his climax from deep within him.
He shouted in hoarse sounds, unable even to say her name, unable to remember his own.
In those long, beautiful moments, the only thing he knew was how sweetly, how perfectly, how desperately he loved her… and always would.
* * *
Ava lay in Ransom’s arms after the most incredible, out-of-this-world lovemaking she’d ever known. It was even better than fifteen years ago, as though in getting older and learning more about themselves, they’d somehow opened up to this greater joy.
“I’m not the same woman I was at twenty-one,” she admitted, running her fingers gently over his chest. “Or maybe even thirty.”
He stroked a hand through her hair. “I’m not the same man either. All I had going for me then was my desire for success. I didn’t consider anything else. I knew you were good for me, that I wanted you with me, but even for you, I wasn’t willing to lose my chance.”
The words would have hurt only hours before, but they were real. And she could admit now that the same was true for her. “I wouldn’t have given up my education or my dreams for you either. I just didn’t understand that neither of us had to give up anything at all, if only we’d compromised. We both still had so much to learn that I’m not sure we could have made it work then. Not just because of the argument or because you asked me to go with you and I got offended. Eventually, something would’ve happened, something would have soured us, because even if people love each other, they can’t work things out if they refuse to even consider the other person’s side.”
He kissed the top of her head. “Is that you trying to alleviate some of my blame over the way we broke up?”
She tipped her head back to look at him. “I’m just saying that we both made mistakes. You couldn’t see beyond your dream for success, and I couldn’t compromise. And we’ll still have to compromise. You can’t stop traveling to be with me, and I can’t follow you around the world. So we’ll have to figure it all out.”
“We will,” he said. “Because I’m never letting you go again, and I’ll do whatever it takes.”
She trailed her finger across his lips. “Maybe that’s what love is about. Figuring out how to do whatever it takes to stay together. Even if it means compromise. Even if it means having to give up something.”
“But you should never have to give up your dreams.”
“And you should never have to give up yours. Between us, we’ll find a way.”
“What was it Fernsby said to you?”
“Love is a compromise because two hearts must meet in the middle to become one.”
He pulled her in for a kiss to her forehead. “He’s a wise man as well as an excellent baker. There has to be give-and-take in love. And that’s what we’ll do. Because our love is perfect.”
She tipped her head to smile at him. “Nothing’s ever perfect. I know. I tried to be perfect. And it never worked.”
He kissed her like a vow. “Ava Harrington, you are the most perfect creature on God’s green earth. And I love you with everything in me.”
“Maybe we’re perfect together in a way we couldn’t be before. I will always love you, and I will never walk out the door without talking to you.”
He laughed. “Okay, don’t make promises you won’t be able to keep. But after you walk out, just promise you’ll come back and talk.”
She giggled. “You know me too well. But I promise. We both promise.”
“We’ll always talk it through. And we’ll always find a way to make it work.”
“Because now that we’ve reunited, I am not un-reuniting.”
He kissed her with abandon, his laughter seeping through. And when he said, “Reunited in love,” she answered, “Forever.”