And then Ivan had told her about the baby. A precious daughter lost out of no fault of his own…or his ex-wife’s.
Cera had to admit, she hadn’t expected to hear Ivan say he’d been married. Or that he’d once been a few short months away from becoming a father.
However, he’d been quick to explain how he and a woman named Shea had been a casual thing when she unexpectedly became pregnant.
To Ivan, getting married was the right, responsible thing to do. After the miscarriage, both he and the other woman amicably decided to go their separate ways, and Ivan hadn’t spoken to her since.
It was a sad story with an even sadder ending. But even through the heart-wrenching pain she’d seen reflected in her protector’s eyes, it was the love for his ill-fated child—a love still very much present—that had squeezed her heart the hardest.
Ivan wasn’t simply a former SEAL or for-hire investigator. He didn’t just man the door at Sin or sweep the floors after everyone left. He was a man of honor. Loyalty. And from everything she’d seen and felt from him every day he’d been in her life…
He was a man truly capable of love.
It was also during those darker conversations when many tears had fallen. From her haunted gaze…and from his. Tears created by memories neither wanted to possess but were impossible to forget.
And when the ever-present heartache became too much for either to bear, she and Ivan—sweet, loving, desirable Ivan—had each taken great care in kissing those tears away.
That was how the last few days had gone.
Between Ivan’s back-and-forth phone calls with Detective King and the F.B.Il, and Cera and Ivan brainstorming every possible lead they could think of, there hadn’t been as much downtime as she’d expected. But during those times when they were forced to sit back and wait, the two had continued learning as much as they could about each other.
It didn’t take long to realize the losses they’d both endured weren’t the only things they had in common.
From their tastes in movies and music, to favorite pizza toppings and brand of beer, the two seemed eerily perfect for each other. Even better than that, Cera also discovered—through some extremely dedicated and thorough research—they even preferred the same sexual positions.
Although to be fair, she couldn’t imagineanyposition she wouldn’t love when it came to that man. But the sex was beside the point.
What they had—what the two of them were rapidly growing—came together to make so much more. Despite not having gotten a single solid lead on her stalker, Cera hadn’t felt this happy or at peace for as long as she could remember. And it was all thanks to the naked man standing by the bed.
A man who’d just ordered her food after yet another round of mind-blowing sex.
“Oh, thank God.” Cera sat up with the sheet pulled to where it barely covered the swells of her breasts. “I’m starving.”
“Didn’t you eat earlier this morning?” Ivan began picking up his discarded clothes.
She gave him a teasing wink and a low, “Only you.”
A naked Ivan walked toward her. “I’m gonna hop in the shower.” He leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead.
Brain kisses, her mom used to call them.
A smile formed in place of her usual grief-driven tears. It was nice to remember the good times, too. Important, even. And something she needed to make a conscious effort to do more often.
“You gonna join me?” Ivan rumbled low as his lips brushed against her ear.
Eyes closing, Cera drew in a stuttered breath. “I’ll be in once the food gets here.” Her heady gaze shifted back to his. “As much as I’d love to feast solely on you, I don’t want to risk missing the actual food when it arrives.”
When her stomach chose that very moment to release a loud, decidedly unladylike growl, Ivan’s face lit up with a boyish grin. “Okay. Food, then work. And later—”
The sexy man who’d dropped into her life like a literal dream come true leaned in for another kiss. Arealkiss, this time.
Slow. Sensual. And full of promises she didn’t dare put into words.
By the time he pulled back, Cera was about to tell him to heck with the food. But her stomach growled again, announcing its disdain for that particular plan.
“Don’t wait on me to eat.” He tapped the tip of her nose and promptly disappeared into the suite’s master bathroom. “I slept on my neck wrong and got a kink in it,” he hollered back at her from the other room. “Gonna stand under the hot water to try to work those muscles out. Oh, and in case you were wondering, the only reason I’m good with you to open the door without me is because Mr. Roxbury—the owner of this place—is personally delivering the food himself.”
“He is?” Cera blinked. “Why?”