No matter what.
15KIM
Zoe wasasleep on Xavier's shoulder before we made it halfway back to the villa.
Her small body was limp against him, one arm dangling, her face pressed into the curve of his neck. He carried her like it was nothing, like he'd been doing it for years, adjusting his grip when she stirred and murmuring something soft until she settled again.
I walked beside them, watching the moonlight play across the path, trying to organize the chaos in my head.
We'd had sex.
Xavier and I had sex. In an unfinished hotel room. On a plastic-wrapped bed. And then we'd shown up to dinner looking like exactly what we were, and his entire family had seen it written all over our faces.
And I still hadn't processed any of it.
The villa was quiet when we entered, the only sound the distant rush of waves against the shore. Xavier carried Zoe straight to the master bedroom, laying her gently on the enormous bed. She didn't wake, just curled onto her side, one hand reaching for the pillow.
He pulled the covers up to her chin. Brushed the hair from her forehead. Pressed a kiss to her temple so gentle it made something ache in my chest.
I stood in the doorway, frozen between wanting to run and wanting to stay. My brain was still short-circuiting, thoughts colliding and scattering before I could hold onto them. I hadn't even had time to think about Cole. About what he'd tried to do at dinner, the way he'd looked at Zoe, the calculation in his eyes.
All I could think about was the man crouched beside my daughter's bed.
And what we'd done.
It was good. No—it was amazing. The kind of amazing that rewired your nervous system, that made you forget your own name, that left you boneless and breathless and desperate for more.
The kind of amazing that terrified me.
I wanted to do it again.
Even now, watching him tuck my daughter in, I was contemplating pulling him into the next room and doing things to him. Things that would make dinner look tame by comparison. Things that involved significantly fewer clothes and significantly more of that thing he'd done with his tongue.
But I couldn't. Shouldn't. This was moving too fast, spiraling out of control. What would I do if it didn't work out? If I let myself fall and he turned out to be another Cole, another disappointment, another lesson in why trusting people was a mistake?
Right. Nothing. I would do nothing.
I was going to stay in this room with Zoe like a sensible person. Keep the door closed. Keep my hands to myself. Stay far, far away from Xavier Dubois for the rest of the night.
That was the plan. A good plan. A responsible plan.
Xavier looked up at me.
"Hey," he said softly. "Come here."
"Okay."
The word left my mouth before my brain could stop it. My feet carried me across the room without permission, and then I was in his arms, my face pressed against his chest, his hands warm and solid on my back.
He held me for a long moment. Just held me, his chin resting on top of my head, his breath slow and steady. I felt him inhale deeply, like he was memorizing my scent, committing this moment to memory.
Then his hand found mine, and he led me out of the room.
The smaller bedroom was dark, the only light spilling in from the windows. Xavier closed the door behind us, and before I could speak, before I could think, he was pushing me against the wall.
His mouth found mine.
This kiss was different from before. Deeper. More demanding. His hands gripped my hips, holding me in place, and his tongue traced the seam of my lips until I opened for him. I gasped into his mouth, my fingers clutching at his shoulders, trying to anchor myself against the wave of sensation threatening to pull me under.