I steadied my nerves and turned back to him. “What?”

“You need to know that it doesn’t matter to me,” he said, his eyes open and honest. “Well, it matters because it hurt you, shaped you. But the rest of it? None of it matters. I hope one day you’ll tell me so that I understand you better, but that’s the only reason. I read one article that gave vague details, and then I shut it down. I wasn’t digging for gory details, or voyeurism. I just wanted to know about you.”

“Okay,” I said, nodding my head because I was too drained to argue anymore. I wanted to hide away in private and lick my wounds, both the ones he’d inflicted, and the ones I’d caused with my own very public reaction.

He tipped my chin toward his. “And I don’t care about whatever physical damage you’re hiding.”

I almost laughed. “You have the body of a Greek god.”

A wry smile lifted the corners of his perfect lips. “I have more scars than you can count. More broken bones than could ever mend. You are far more perfect than I will ever be. I shouldn’t have looked, but I did. And now I know, and you know that I know, and the whole plane knows, too.”

I rolled my eyes. “And what are you going to do with this knowledge?”

“Understand you better. Learn what makes you tick, what makes you pull away when I get too close, what it’s going to take to break down those walls of yours.”

“They’re pretty thick,” I admitted, knowing they were damn near unscalable.

“Good news for me is that I’m exceptionally good at defying…well, everything.”

Our eyes locked—anger, fear, regret, and a new understanding passing between us with a simple glance. He kept me tethered with nothing more than a thought, unable to move or pull away. Then he lowered his head slowly, giving me ample time to pull away if I wanted to.

I didn’t.

He brushed his lips over mine in a kiss so tender that my eyes watered all over again. “Nothing matters to me except how you feel about it now. How it affects you now. What you choose to do about it now.”

“I’m doing the best I can,” I answered truthfully.

He nodded. “I get that. But I need you to understand something. To know it in your bones.”

“What?”

That devilishly sexy look flickered across his features. “My number one goal is still to get into your pants—and stay there as long as possible.”

I almost snorted, but his comment gave me back the one thing his knowledge had stripped away—my confidence.

Chapter Seventeen

Paxton

Mykonos

Leah’s excitement was palpable as we headed out of the airport. It bubbled around her like a living, breathing thing as she took in every detail around us.

“You know this is just the airport, right?” I asked, reaching out my hand for her backpack. How funny that it had only been meant to last us the day trip in Istanbul and now it was our sole piece of luggage for days.

“But it’s Mykonos,” she said, her smile brilliant as she handed me the bag.

I swung it over my shoulder, glad she was talking to me. I’d been nervous the rest of the flight until she’d taken my hand during landing.

“Pink is definitely your color,” she joked as we left the shade of the awning and stepped into the sunshine.

“Only manly men can pull off pink,” I argued.

She laughed, the sound peeling away another one of my layers. If I didn’t watch it, this girl was going to have my soul bare. After my confession on the plane, I felt like I’d already stripped.

“Okay, so where are we going?” she asked as I led her through the parking lot.

“Right about…” I pointed toward the usual place. “There.”

She looked from the bright blue Jeep Wrangler to me and back again as we came up to it. “And what are we going to do with this?”

I squatted down in front of the left wheel and pulled out the key that had been taped there, dangling it from my fingers. “I figured we’d drive it?”

She crossed her arms under her breasts, the lace of her bra clearly defined against the silk of her shirt. “You cannot steal someone’s car.”

Oh, this was too much damn fun. I opened her door, popped the glove box open, and handed her the registration. Without waiting for her to read, I started unzipping the top.

“Wait…” She shook her head as I was finishing up. “I don’t read Greek, but…that’s your name. How is that your name?”

“Because I own it.”

Her beautiful forehead puckered. “I don’t understand.”

“No, but you will,” I promised as I motioned for her to climb in.

Once she was buckled, I took off, my turns extra careful and my speed beneath the limit. As we made our way up along the side of the terraced hill, I kept near the middle of the road unless there was someone coming in our direction.

“Whoa,” she said as we crested the first hill.

“Yeah,” I agreed. The port was spread out beneath us, the waters of the Aegean the greenish blue I missed every day that I wasn’t here. Against the backdrop of the shoreline, the white houses, and that little windmill I was fond of, it was gorgeous. Sitting next to Leah, her hair coming loose from its bun, the wisps flying in the breeze, and the top of the Jeep off, it was perfection.

She turned in her seat, trying to keep the view as we headed inland.