I'm going to tell him about Sebastian. It's time to be brave. He's just told me about being in a coma, nearly dying, his sister being kidnapped.

My story is nothing compared to what he went through. I'll start with the night of the party at school, and tell him about the arrest, and then the dinner. How he offered to help Ashton. How Sebastian and I only kissed that one time, and really, it was nothing. Thirty seconds, tops. It's not like I enjoyed it.

Surely Griffin won't fault me for my decision. I did what I had to, in order to save my brother.

I open my mouth, wondering if the words that will come out will forever change our relationship. Make things more messed-up than they already are. God, I hope not. Griffin already looks exhausted and I know he's wrecked over Zoe.

I love him so much and don't want to hurt him more.

"What happened while I was gone?" He looks at me with those clear topaz eyes and I feel a stab of guilt.

"I..."

There's a loud buzzing noise, like an insect's wings batting against glass, and I jump.

"Shit, that's my phone. Sorry."

Blinking, I watch as Griffin reaches toward the nightstand. Somehow his sinewy body makes him appear even more graceful, more fluid. He's sexy in a whole new way now.

"Angel, I have to get this. It's super important." He brushes a quick kiss on my lips and slides out of bed. I watch him walk naked toward the sliding glass door. Even skinny, he's still hot.

"Hey. What's up? Thanks for calling me back so quick. Glad I got through before you left for the day." He's got that old Griffin tone, the one that's chummy and slick and slightly arrogant. He opens the glass door, steps outside, and slides it shut. It must be a private patio, otherwise Griffin's flashing the entire hotel courtyard.

The ceiling's painted a faint sky blue and I lie there, staring up. I'd been so close to telling him about Sebastian. Now that I have a moment to think, maybe it's a bad idea.

Maybe Griffin doesn't need to know Sebastian even exists. Can I end things quietly with Sebastian, then tell Griffin at some later date? Maybe I can somehow arrange to pay Sebastian back? It's not like Sebastian doesn't have the extra money lying around. He isn't going to be homeless for helping Ashton. And really, most of his help came when he asked his doctor friend in Jacksonville to move Ash up on the transplant list.

I don't want to rely on Griffin for money, but since he put me in this position to begin with, I'll bet he wouldn't hesitate to give Sebastian the cash for Ashton's treatment. Especially when he finds out that I almost whored myself out. Just the thought of how close I'd been to Sebastian sends a shiver through me. That brief kiss. It's not a good, sexy shiver. A creepy-crawly shiver, one that I've only felt while reading about Slenderman or watching movies involving serial killers.

Rolling onto my stomach and burrowing into the fluffy, white pillows, a hot poker of shame stabs me in the gut. God, that kiss. His lips had been slippery, too. I realize this now that I've had a proper kiss from Griffin. Sebastian had felt a twinge slimy.

Gah.

My fiancée.

I'm supposed to see Sebastian tonight. Somehow I need to tell Griffin that I have an important commitment that I can't get out of, then I'll visit Sebastian for a couple of hours. I'll explain everything, tell him how Griffin returned to my life suddenly and that I can't continue with our arrangement. Then I'll come back here and stay with the man I love.

Forever.

I want it all to go away. Sebastian, the memory of kissing him, the shame.

But Sebastian's been kind to me. So generous, really. He knows I was in love with someone else before we started our arrangement. I suspect he won't want me to be miserable. The circumstances of Griffin practically coming back from the dead are so unusual that any reasonable man would have to understand I'm in no shape to provide companionship. Sebastian's a reasonable man.

He'll grasp that I won't want to be a man's plaything, now that my boyfriend has returned.

Easy. No problem. I sit up, reaching for Griffin's white, button-down shirt. Slipping it on, I take a deep inhale. It smells like Griffin. The real, live, amazing Griffin.

My favorite person is alive.

My mood's already better. Yeah, telling Griffin's a terrible idea. Why inject more stress in an already terrible situation? He needs to get Zoe back, safe. That's priority number one. My role right now is to make things easier for him. To soothe him and make sure he doesn't somehow get sick — because it seems like he was pretty badly injured.

To love him.

With love, everything else will fall into place. Isn't that what I read in my romance novels? What I see in movies? There was a time when I believed all that stuff. Did these past four months totally annihilate my innocence?

No, I can't let that happen. What we have is too incredible. The way I felt when we were kissing, all buzzy and hot in my core, while my mind soared with joy — that's impossible to give up.

He's been through so much. He almost died. Just remembering what he said about his ordeal makes me want to cry again. I could have lost him for real.

No, he doesn't need my bullshit. I'll get over my anger, I think. And he doesn't need to know about my stupid decision with Sebastian. It's unnecessary, and already I want to put that relationship behind me.

I stand up and crack open the cap of an expensive bottle of water and gulp it down. My muscles ache, probably from the all the tension built up during our conversation.

Everything will be easy to forget, once Zoe's back and Griffin and I are living normal lives.

He's been outside for about five minutes now, and I already miss him. I miss his hands on my body, the warmth from his skin, the feel of his lips. His mouth is the same, full and bow-shaped. Soft and capable of rendering me speechless.

Why did he have to go outside to talk? I know everything about him now. The good and the bad. It's not like before.

He needs to stop shutting me out of the complicated parts of his life.

Or, I need to assert myself more. Not play the scared little girl. Vee wouldn't wait for a man in the other room if she wanted his hands on her body.

Bringing the water with me, I slide the glass door open and am nearly blinded by the late-day Miami sun. The patio's this weird, enclosed space, blazingly white from high stucco walls. And there's an old-time, claw foot tub in the corner. Strange. But starkly beautiful.

Griffin's sitting on a rattan sofa with white cushions, naked. He looks like a lithe, hungry lion. He's still on the phone, but his eyes are on me. His face lights up in a smile.

He beckons, and I walk to him.

"I'm glad to hear the old man's okay. Glad that you've gone to visit him." His voice is altogether too calm considering everything that's happened, everything that he told me. Considering that I think he's talking about his father and he never mentions him, ever.

I offer the water and he takes it. Instead of drinking, he sets it on a nearby table, and grabs for my wrist. Of course I let him pull me into his lap.

"Okay, so tonight at eight?"

God, I hope this is the guy that will help him with Zoe. Ashton's going to be ecstatic when she's back. It will probably help him heal, even.

"Excellent. Eight it is."

Perfect. This will give me enough time to see Sebastian. Griffin won't want me to go with him of course, and I'll be able to slip away for a couple of hours.

Only two buttons on the shirt are done up, and he slips a hand under the cotton, caressing my belly and then higher. My nipples immediately become hard, and I curl into his chest like a kitty.

"You still in the same house? The one by the golf course? Yeah? Excellent. See you then."

He taps on the phone and sets it next to the water bottle, kissing my forehead.

"Good news. I'm meeting that guy tonight. I think this situation could be resolved soon," he murmurs while cupping my breast. "Do you want to come with me?"

It's surprising that he asked, but I don't make a big deal out of it — although flash of curiosity goes through me. Why does he want me to go? Maybe I should go. But no.

I sit up. "That's okay. I need to stop at home and get my things." When he brushes a thumb over my nipple, I let out a little coo. He slides the shirt open so my breasts are exposed and I feel his cock twitch to hardness against my butt cheek. "We'll be together all night. And the rest of our lives, right?"

"Does that mean you still want to marry me?"

A surge of pure bliss goes through me and I laugh. "I've wanted to marry you since I was nine."

"Come here. I need to kiss you again."

"Just kiss me? You don't want anything else?" I part my thighs a little. His hand dips between my legs and he grins when he notices how drenched I am.

"What were you going to tell me?"

I wriggle around so I'm straddling him. The shame is back, the hot poker jabbing me right at my bellybutton.

"I'll tell you later. It's not a huge deal. Right now I can't concentrate and we have other pressing matters to discuss," I whisper against his mouth.

Just being this close to his erection makes me desperate to feel him inside me. The shirt slips off one shoulder and I lean in to kiss him. I need him to desire me like he used to.

My eyelashes flutter against his cheek and I sink onto him, sucking in a breath as he fills me. It doesn't matter that we're outdoors, on a patio, in the middle of the day. Separated from a hotel filled with people by three stucco walls. All that matters is him, inside me. Us, together. I'm still on the pill, so I'm not worried about birth control.

I lean back and circle my hips, slow. So. Freaking. Good.

His eyes roll back in his head and he lets out a low growl. I've missed the sound so much, that noise he makes when I know he's about to lose control.

"Fuck, Juliette. Yes. This."

I ride him slow and raw. It's been four months since I've had sex — four months since we've had sex — and there's a delicious twinge of ache and pleasure.

Need and relief.

The thrusting, the happiness, is so intense that I almost forget to kiss him. One of his hands is on my ass, the other at the back of my head, drawing me close to him. My thumb's in his mouth and we're both panting and sweating. My hair's sticking to my back and I don't give a crap.

He pulls me in, his face pressed into my neck. His chest is heaving and for a second, I think he might be crying. We stop grinding into one another and still. My hands are in his hair and we're as close as two people can get. Fused together. Practically as one.

Like before when we were in the bed, I'm massively turned on and I want to weep from the intensity of it all.

"I love you. So much." I whisper in the vicinity of his ear. "I don't want this to ever stop."

He gathers my hair in his hands. "Juliette, I can't wait to fall asleep with you in my arms tonight and wake up next to you tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. And the thousands of tomorrows after that."

I go to kiss him, feeling heady with the knowledge that because he's back, because he's alive, because he's here filling me with love, one thing is certain.

Everything is going to be okay.

Finally.

____