Chapter 29
Sophie
Forget the Italians or the French. Albanian lovers were the way to go. Or maybe not just any Albanian… Kian Cortes was the way to go.
It had been a week of pure bliss—seven days of late-night conversations that wandered from the profound to the ridiculous, laughter that left my cheeks aching, mind-blowing sex, incredible food, and then more sex for good measure.
I woke up sore but smiling, limbs pleasantly heavy, my body humming with lingering warmth. I’d been waking like this every morning for the past week—happy, relaxed, utterly unguarded.
“I could get used to this,” I said to the empty room, which by now I’d come to expect. The man was a force of nature—always moving, always working—and I was starting to suspect that he survived on caffeine and sheer stubbornness, operating on no more than two hours of sleep a night.
I reached for my phone and the screen lit up with an unread message.
Sienna: Got your voicemail. Everything’s good. Miss you. Mom is in overprotective mode again. Do you know why?
I let out a heavy sigh, not surprised by the fact that Kristoff and Gemma had gone into mama and papa bear mode. After all, Jacqueline was still at large. I had no doubt that Kian would find her, but until he did, there was no way around extra protection for Sienna.
But I couldn’t tell her that, so I settled for a half-truth.
Me: It’s your mom’s job to be overprotective. She and Kristoff love you and want to ensure you’re okay.
Knowing she wouldn’t see the message until she woke up, I dialed Violet. After all, she was in the same time zone.
She answered on the first ring.
“Well, well, you’re up early,” was her greeting. “Is everything okay? Your DILF hasn’t tried to kill you or some shit like that?”
I let out an exasperated breath, stretching across the large bed. “Unless you’re referring to almost dying from an orgasm, no.”
“Too much information, Sophie,” she grumbled. “I can’t decide whether it’s a good or bad thing that you’ve never met Billie. You two would wreak havoc on this earth.”
I stared at the ceiling, chuckling. Violet’s French friend, Billie, and I had never crossed paths, but I felt like I’d known her forever. She often came up in our conversations, just like my cousin and his family.
“How is Greece?” I asked. The silence fell and unease hit like thunder. “Violet?” I called out, straightening up in bed. “Do I need to come and rescue you?”
“No, absolutely not,” she said quickly but confidently. It didn’t escape me that in our last phone conversation she was offering to rescue me. As if we even knew how to rescue people outside a hospital or therapy room.
“Are you sure?”
“Positively yes.”
I eased back against the cushions. “Okay, but you’ll tell me if you need help, right?”
“Again, yes.”
“Remember your promise,” I started. “You won’t be looking to the past to find a way to move on. It’s the future you need to look to.”
“And I’m holding to it,” she said quietly. “But there are some people from my past I can’t move on without.”
I nodded in understanding, although she couldn’t see me.
“Gosh, are we a mess or what?” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “We traveled to the Balkans with so much baggage, I’m surprised we’re not drowning in these crystal blue waters.”
“Metaphorically speaking, you’re not wrong,” she agreed. “But it’s time we face our issues.”
“Kian’s helping me with mine,” I admitted. “It felt good to accept his help and be taken care of.”
“That’s good for a change, considering you were lacking that in your relationship with Jonathan.” She wasn’t wrong. “He was too wrapped up in his ex-wife’s crap to be the right man for you.”
“I know,” I rasped. “I just wish I’d realized that when our paths crossed again. Maybe he wouldn’t be dead.”
“You know how you always tell me I can’t be blamed for my sister’s kidnapping,” she said slowly. “Take that advice and stop blaming yourself for Jonathan’s death.”
“It’s hard not to make those what-if scenarios,” I admitted.
“I know, but neither one of us is helping ourselves by doing it.”
“I’m so grateful to have you as my friend,” I murmured, smiling. “And your patients are incredibly lucky to have you as their therapist because you’re the best.”
“Thank you, Sophie. And ditto.”
Then it hit me. It was Monday, the day I was meeting the head of the local hospital in Vlore for a job interview. The smile vanished as panic surged. I bolted upright.
“Crap, I have to go. Call me if you need me,” I said, then hung up as I launched myself out of bed, pacing in frantic circles. I crossed the room twice, turned sharply, and came to a halt in the middle of it, blowing out a breath.
“It’s not your first day,” I scolded myself, dragging a hand through my hair. “And you’re a badass. So calm down and get your shit together.”
Once I was showered and dressed, I went downstairs and found Kian in his office. As usual, his eyes were on the screen, those glasses making him look like a sexy professor.
On the coffee table, a food tray sat, filled with eggs, bacon, bagels, jam, and orange juice.
“Hey,” I called out.
His eyes lifted to mine and he smiled. “Good morning.”
“I’m ready to go.” I smiled somewhat nervously. Good God, why was I so nervous? If there was one thing I excelled at, it was medicine. “Can I borrow your car?”
His eyebrows arched. “I’ll drive you, but not before you eat.”
“But—”
“Sophie, sit down and eat.”
I put my hands on my waist. “Now, listen here, mister. I’m a grown-ass woman. A doctor! And nobody tells me what to do.”
“I’m aware,” he drawled, humor flickering in his dark eyes. “But hospitals here don’t have cafeterias like the ones in the States, and you’ll be starving by mid-morning. I can’t have you fainting on my watch.”
I sighed, already anticipating the argument I wasn’t going to win.
“Okay, fine. That makes sense. Although, for the record, I’ve never fainted in my life and I seriously doubt I’m going to start now.”
He ignored that, gesturing instead toward the coffee table. “Sonya prepared this for you. Sit. Eat.” His tone brooked no discussion. “I’ll finish up a few emails while you do.”
I settled onto the small sofa facing the table and pulled the tray closer, the smell of warm food betraying my earlier resolve to resist. I dug in, telling myself I was eating at a normal pace, even as I cleared the plate in a blink. I was impatient to get moving and start my day at the hospital.
What could I say? I was a work junkie and there was no cure for that.
I reached for the orange juice, drained it in one go, then sprang to my feet.
“Okay, I’m ready.”
He chuckled. “That was fast.”
“You know, I can drive myself. This feels like being dropped off by my daddy on my first day of school.”
“I’m the furthest thing from your daddy, Sophie,” he mused, his eyes traveling over my body. “I have a meeting on the other side of town, so I’m going in that direction anyway.”
I shrugged. “Okay, fine. But if you try to walk me in, I’m putting my foot down.”
“Fair enough.”
He stood and straightened the sleeves of his suit jacket, and I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander over him. God, he was so hot. Now that I’d seen the strong, muscular body underneath his clothes, it was hard not to picture it every time I looked at him.
“If you keep looking at me like that, zemra ime,” he said slowly, a dark note to his voice, “we’ll make it back to the bedroom, not the hospital.”
I smiled, making my way to him and putting my hand on his chest.
“Not such a bad idea; however, we can save that for tonight,” I purred, fluttering my lashes.
“Too bad.” Although, he didn’t seem disappointed, and then I remembered he mentioned a meeting.
“Where’s your sidekick?” I asked about Amir as we made our way out of the office.
Kian’s hand settled at the small of my back, warm and steady, guiding me forward. The simple intimacy of the gesture sent an unexpected shiver through me, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like we were just an everyday, normal couple stepping out together.
“He’s waiting for me at the meeting location,” Kian replied. His voice was casual, almost bored, but his body told a different story. There was a tightness in his shoulders, a coiled readiness beneath the smooth exterior that I was beginning to recognize.
We stepped outside into the brilliance of the morning. The sun was already high, bathing the property in golden light, and the thick summer air wrapped around us with the promise of another beautiful day.
His car waited, sleek and immaculate, and Kian moved ahead of me to open the passenger door, one arm lifting with effortless strength. The motion drew my attention to the way his bicep flexed beneath the light fabric of his suit, the material stretching just enough to make my pulse stutter.
“How do you stay in shape?” I blurted before I could stop myself. “I never see you work out.”
He tapped my butt lightly, ushering me into the passenger seat. “That’s because you’re sleeping when I’m at the gym.”
He shut the door and rounded the front of the car, sliding smoothly into the driver’s seat. As the engine roared to life, I picked up right where I’d left off.
“You drive out to the gym while I’m sleeping?” I questioned. I tried—and failed—to picture him surrounded by clanking weights, mirrors, and crowds of sweating bodies. The image refused to settle.
Then another, far more unsettling one took its place.
A room filled with fit women. Very fit women. Stretching and smiling. Paying far too much attention to him.
I stiffened in my seat.
Shit. Maybe I need to start working out too.
“No,” he said easily, leaving his property and pulling out into traffic. “I have a home gym.”
Pfft. Thank God. I hated working out with a passion and had zero interest in competing with impossibly toned strangers before breakfast.
“I don’t remember seeing it during my tour,” I remarked, glancing his way. Not that it mattered. I didn’t really care where the heck it was; I’d never be seeing it anyway.
“It’s on the roof.”
“Hmm, that’s different,” I muttered, my interest already dwindling.
“Want me to show you?” he asked, eyes fixed on the road as the city blurred past us.
I turned my head, studying his profile. Damn. The man was unfairly gorgeous—strong jaw, relaxed confidence, that quiet masculinity that didn’t need to announce itself. The whole damn package.
How would I ever move on from this?
The thought hit me out of nowhere, knocking the air from my lungs. Move on? From him?
My body went still, my chest tightening as unease crept in. I frowned and shook my head slightly, as if I could physically dislodge the idea. This was just incredible sex. Mind-blowing, toe-curling sex that blurred boundaries and messed with common sense. That was all.
Yet, it didn’t feel like it at all.
Something deeper hummed beneath the surface, something I didn’t want to name.
“Sophie?”
I blinked, dragged back into the moment. Right. The gym.
I forced a smile, leaning back in my seat.
“Yeah. I’d love to see where you work out.” My lips curved with mischief. “Maybe I’ll even come watch you sweat. You know, like my own personal porno.”
He snorted softly, glancing at me from the corner of his eye.
“But,” I added, wagging a finger, “it has to be in the evenings. I refuse to wake up at some ungodly hour just to watch you lift heavy things.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the sound making something inside me glow stupidly bright.
Dammit.
I loved that laugh. Loved the way he smiled when he wasn’t trying. I loved how easy it was to talk to him, how natural everything felt—too natural.
My heart gave an uncomfortable little twist.
Good God, I thought, panic whispering at the edges of my mind. Was I actually falling for him?