CHAPTER NINE

WHENSHEFINALLY found Sebastian—much farther along the private strip of beach than she usually traversed with the boys—it was to find him staring at the sky with a grim set to his mouth. She'd rarely seen him in such a somber mood that Laila felt her curiosity increase a thousand times over.

Without disturbing him, she kicked off her sandals and scrunched her feet into the glorious-feeling sand. The sand was still warm from the hot day but the waves lapping at her felt icily cold. A childish giggle escaped her as she let the water barely touch her toes before running back. With the tide coming in faster and rougher, she felt that little lurch in her belly when the water pulled away the sand from right under her feet. Kind of how her life felt at the moment. And yet, she wanted to be here, with this man. So much for calculating her risks.

For a while, she played her game with the waves, more than content to wait out his dark mood. A partnership, she'd told Thea, and now she realized she'd meant it. But it had to be for more than just the boys. It had to be for them. And she was already invested deep enough to know that Sebastian fascinated her, in more than one way. It had been so from the first time she'd set her eyes and her plans on him.

Finally, she felt his attention move to her, as real as if he'd run those rough artist's hands over her skin. Like she had tiny little antennae wired specifically for his attention.

"If you have come here hoping to mellow my mood, you'll fail," he said in that soft voice he wielded as a weapon. Or was it a shield? she wondered with a fresh perspective relatively free of her own insecurities. "Unless you will let me take you on the sand..." His white teeth gleamed against his olive skin like a predator's warning. "That might mellow me down."

"Why would I want to mellow you at all, Sebastian? It is rare enough that you show your true colors. And as for taking me roughly in the sand—" her breath hitched in her throat at the image that came "—you're just being a tease. Sand or bed or wall or the pristine marble floor of my bedroom, I'm yours for the taking."

His rough curse added to the symphony of the waves.

"Is another migraine coming on?" she ventured, eager to know.

He shook his head, dislodging a lock of hair onto his forehead. "Is that why you came running?"

"Wow, you're like a prickly bull right now, huh?"

"So, you should run away screaming, Dr. Jaafri."

"I think I'll stay right here."

He shrugged, without quite meeting her eyes.

"You were hard on Alexandros the other day."

Another curse. "Of all the things to bring up... Why are we talking about my infernal brother?"

"Because I have a point to make."

"You know he does not like you."

"Of course I know he doesn't like me and that's a cheap shot," Laila said, scrunching her nose. "Alexandros likes control in all things, yes? And the fact that I will not fall into line or that you are not taking enough actions to make me fall in line, and all of this is causing too many unknowns when all he wants is quiet and comfort for Annika...does not sit with him well."

Sebastian turned to face her and admiration glinted in his eyes. "Anything more?"

"In his mind, I'm also the reason for the strife between him and Annika. Right now, I make a convenient target for him to blame, among all the unknowns."

Sebastian grinned, those thin lines fanning out from the edges of his eyes again. She loved when he smiled like that, with real mirth, without mockery. There was already a catalog of the wide variety of his smiles in her head.

"And yet you scold me that I'm hard on him?"

"I'm not scolding you."

"You have that stern voice you use with the boys. For all the indulging you do, that voice means business. Although, I would be up for experimenting with that voice in bed, just so you know," he said, nudging her shoulder with his.

Heat streaked through her lower belly and Laila had to retrace her thoughts. "Promises and threats, Kyrios Skalas," she said, taunting him.

The moment stretched between them, full of sparks and longing and...heated desire.

"What else have you surmised of my brother?"

"His dislike of me is mostly based on something other than logic. When he discovers that, it will go away. As long as he does not extend it to Nikos and Zayn—which he hasn't—I do not care if he approves of me or not."

"You sound very used to being disliked, Dr. Jaafri," he said, shocking her with his perception.

"Nobody gets used to being disliked, do they?" She laughed to bury the pain in her words, but it came out sounding hollow. But then, she had almost no pretensions when it came to Sebastian. So why start now? "Nobody should have to get used to being mocked for being odd or unconventional or differently wired or being sensitive. It's especially cruel when it comes...from people who should protect you," she said softly, acknowledging something she hadn't until now. "I'm used to it. But I'll do everything in my power to protect Zayn from something like that."

"He has to face the world on his own merit, too, Laila. Or he would never know what he was capable of."

Laila heard the almost mournful note in that and tried not to wonder what would make this seemingly powerful man sound so. The thought was terrifying even in her head. "Yes, well, that's why we both are needed, no? You can push them toward being their own selves and I can coddle them just a little."

Apparently, all it took to mellow Sebastian's dark mood was talking about them as a team. She could almost feel him put on the easy, casual mask as he replied, "Fine. Let's talk about the mighty Alexandros Skalas and why you think I hurt him."

"It comes to you naturally...being a nurturer. Which is rare enough in powerful men who're used to getting what they want. Maybe it's because you were used to Annika as a kid or maybe it's your artistic nature that pushes you to see the purity of spirit in children, I don't know," she said, clearly probing. "But it does not come easily to Alexandros, and it is also clear that the idea of being a parent terrifies him. And yet, instead of offering him some kind of comfort, you rubbed it in his face. I would say it was quite cruel of you, but luckily for me and the boys, I know that you don't have a cruel bone in your body."

"It would be dangerous to put so much trust in me, Laila."

"That's a one-eighty if I've ever heard one," she said, not heeding the very real warning in his words.

He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers and examined her, as if gauging her worthiness. Laila stood her ground. After a while, he exhaled and spoke. "This is the first time in our lives that I'm better at something than him. And it is a big thing, given it's a child, and his child tomorrow, that we're talking about. Alexandros is used to being perfect at everything. Except this is not a skill set you acquire overnight, is it?"

Laila slapped his arm. "That's what I'm talking about. You're...enjoying his misery. That's...awful, Sebastian."

"Well, he was good at everything growing up. The perfect heir, the well-behaved son and a genius whiz kid with numbers and stocks... For a banking dynasty's heir, that's like knowing how to alchemize everything into gold."

Her breath suspended in her throat as she got a tiny glimpse into what made Sebastian so different and so...unpredictable. "And you?" she asked, terrified of being shunted behind that invisible circle he drew around himself.

"I failed at everything he excelled at, and anything I was supposed to be good at. I got expelled out of every private school in Europe, so Alexandros had to return home, too. I made my tutors' life hell until they ran away screaming. I complained of constant headaches and visions and was high maintenance until I found something to calm me down in my teens. I drew endless amounts of art that no one could make head or tail of. Konstantin loathed my very existence, so I gave him more reasons to do so by failing at everything he set me to do."

"Your father?" Laila whispered, anxious to know more of what had made him and terrified of what it might be.

"Yes, the great Konstantin Skalas who was full of rot on the inside. He...did his best to mold me into another version of Alexandros. Because one paragon of a son wasn't enough for the egotistical control freak. The more he tried, the more I loathed it, and the more I acted out. He didn't miss a single chance to use his words and his fists against me."

Laila couldn't breathe. And when she spoke, her words were fragile, insubstantial, full of rage against this...monster of a man who would terrorize a defenseless child. Suddenly, so many things about Sebastian became clear. "What about your grandmother? And your mother? Why didn't they protect you?"

"Thea didn't know for a long time. And my mother... He'd already terrified her until she was afraid of her own shadow and lost herself in drink."

Laila felt a surge of anger toward the woman but tempered it from turning it into judgment. But the thought of no one aiding a young Sebastian, of perverting his sense of self...made her want to rage out. Somehow, she managed to sound steady. "I'm... I have no words, Sebastian. I see where your fierceness for the boys comes from. You're..." Another realization struck her. "So, you have spent your entire life shaming the Skalas name as some sort of revenge?"

He shrugged, his smile grim. "The need to dirty the name became far too entrenched in me by the time Alexandros discovered Konstantin's treatment of me. And when he did... He did his best to shield me, begged me not to fuel Konstantin's rages. For the next few years, Alexandros planned and schemed and strategized with Thea to bring Konstantin under his heel and then he ousted him from the bank and our lives."

"You resent him for saving you?" Laila bit out, before she could phrase it better.

"Alexandros did not save me," he said, a jagged edge to his answer that forbade her to probe more.

But something lingered just out of her reach and Laila couldn't quite catch what it was. "So, because he was better than you as a child, you will rub this fear of his in his face?" she said instead.

He turned toward her, finally paying full attention to her windblown hair and her new dress and her pink lips. Something hot came awake in his eyes.

He rubbed a hand over his tired face. "I reacted out of instinct. Although I do not want him to terrify my sons with his ugly face."

When she gasped, he raised his brows and grinned. Moving close suddenly, he caught one stray corkscrew curl and pulled it until it stood straight in his fingers.

Laila let him tug her closer, thick clumps of her curls between his fingers as leverage. Her scalp prickled, the remembered sensation of those fingers delving deep and driving her wild acute. "He needs you, Sebastian."

He scoffed. "Annika didn't tell him about the boys before she could tell me... He doesn't have to throw a tantrum about it."

Laila pressed her forehead into his chest, smiling at the thread of stubborn pride in his voice. "That's not what he cares about."

"No? Because Alexandros doesn't have a whole range of emotional breadth."

And you do?she wanted to ask but she knew the answer. Every day, every little action of his showed her what a complicated, complex man Sebastian was. And with each moment, her draw to him became stronger, nearly irresistible, as if he was a whole gravitational field unto himself and she had no choice but to be pulled into his orbit. But she wanted more than just to circle him endlessly.

She wanted a collision, an explosion, she wanted to reach his raw, burning center. Because she was almost sure that beneath all the masks, Sebastian hid his true self—a man who had to fight every day since he was a child to be himself. Just like her, but in much more horrible circumstances. Was that why nothing and no one was sacred to him? Why he moved through life the way he did?

Suddenly, whatever it was that he wanted from Guido took a new shape, an all-new dimension. She'd never wondered what a powerful, charismatic man like him could want from a poor, old man like Guido.

"Don't leave me hanging now, Dr. Jaafri," he said, watching her closely.

Laila somehow found her words, even as her mind mined for reasons. "Alexandros is angry with Annika that she upset herself over keeping it secret from you. And he's angry with you that you won't let it go. Which means he finds it impossible to confide in you that he's irrationally terrified that he might not be a great father, especially in comparison to you."

Sebastian released her hair and it popped back into its usual curls. He cupped her cheek in his rough hand, tilting her chin up to meet his eyes. "He's not terrified. My brother has never been scared of anything and he..."

"He is now. That's why he freezes around Nikos and Zayn."

A corded arm went around her waist and pulled her, until her breasts flattened against his chest in delicious torment. "Why do you care so much about him?"

There was almost a note of childish peevishness to it and Laila smothered a smile. "Why does it bother you so much that Annika didn't tell you about the boys when you know deep in your heart that she did the right thing?"

"Because she owed her loyalty to me at that point. Not to you."

"Is that all?" Laila pushed, pressing her cheek to his chest, seeking the kind of real intimacy that he might not allow but wanting it anyway. Slowly, she was beginning to see through his mask. Sex and seduction and sinful bets were easy for him, even shields to keep the world at bay. True communication about his needs, showing his real self to the world or caring about anything, not so much.

His heart thundered against her ear as he held her loosely, humoring her, she was sure. He was so...solid and real around her that she couldn't believe she wasn't dreaming. Only her dreams had grown bigger and more improbable since she'd arrived here.

His silence told her she'd been right about his anger toward Annika. Lifting her head, she rubbed her forehead against his stubbled chin. "I care about both of them. Annika and your brother." She had even more respect for Alexandros for taking Sebastian's side when he'd been no more an adult himself, but she was wise enough to not probe a festering wound. "She's been a good friend to me, even though I approached her with my own agenda. She spent hours reassuring me that this was right. She took a huge risk by not telling you. I've not had someone like that in my corner in a long time." She blinked away the sudden tears the thought brought to her throat. "And you...won't even look at her. Please...forgive her. Forgive her so that she's not upset anymore, so that they're not at odds with each other."

Now both his arms were around her waist, and he dipped low enough for her to feel his warm breath on her lips.

"You're a dangerous woman, Dr. Jaafri," he said, his gaze moving over every inch of her as if he meant to unlock her, piece by piece.

"I'm not, really," she said, laughing at the very prospect. "In fact, I'm terribly easy to see through once you figure out the key to me."

"Maybe the danger, then, is in my perception of you," he said, his mouth curving but the smile not quite reaching his eyes.

She frowned. "Then that would make you like every other man who called me too brainy and too competitive and too logical, leaving very little femininity behind."

His rough hand circled her nape in a hold that had dampness blooming at her core. "No one is all of one thing, pethi mou. Maybe you're all of those things and there is no shame in them. But I see more to you, too, and that's what makes you so...irresistible."

It was impossible to not believe him, especially when his body was radiating the same tension she felt.

He bent down and licked the shell of her ear before he said, "I'll talk to Ani tomorrow and I'll teach Alexandros how to not freeze like a deer in the headlights around his nephews. For you."

Laila slapped his chest. "For me? Please. You adore her. Stop making this—"

His arm tightened like a vise around her, and she loved the little cage he built. Loved the rub and slide of her curves against his hardness. "Accept that this is one of your wishes I'm granting."

"No way am I using up one of those on something you were already going to do."

"Now who's cheating?" he demanded, his mouth running a heated trail down her neck.

"Not me," she said, shivering. "Wait, I do have a question. If you answer it, then I'll admit that you've granted me another wish."

He licked at her pulse and breathed the question into her skin. "Ask me."

"Tell me about your migraines."

And why you hide your art, she wanted to say. But there was only so much risk or rejection she could expose herself to at a given time.

"Not much to tell. I have had them for as long as I can remember. Mama used to keep me close to her because I would roar and yell and scream when I was in throes of it. Konstantin thought they made me weak, called me a runt. Would make me run laps around the estate after I recovered as if to make up for them."

"They continue to this day?"

"I have seen specialists all around the world. They don't know what to make of it and I have learned to live with them."

"But—"

He didn't allow her to say more, capturing her mouth with his. His lips were soft and seeking, as if he was searching for something only she could give. Laila sank into the kiss, stunned at how much he seemed to need the gentle tasting as much as she did. It was a soft landing, a subtle invitation to surrender without asking, a sweet promise that he would never hurt her.

When he released her, she mewled like a cat, and buried her face in his throat. She didn't feel shy so much as protective about all these new feelings the kiss evoked. Some magical wildness in Sebastian offered both safety and excitement and she thought she might spend her whole life happily swinging between those opposing points.

"I thought you would ask me something for yourself." Desire made his words low, rough-sounding. "To get Alexandros off your delicious ass with all that stuff."

She shrugged and raised her head. "He's only doing what's right for all of us, no?"

"It is a lot to get used to," he said, nibbling at her lips. "But you don't complain. You never complain. You're a puzzle, Dr. Jaafri, one I intend to crack."

"How many more wishes do I have left, Mr. Skalas?"

"One more, yineka mou," he said, that roguish grin back in his eyes.

"You're so sure of getting your way, aren't you?"

"Always," he said, his fingers playing at the nape of her neck.

"Is that why you won't give us both what we want?"

A fake gasp escaped those near-perfect lips. "I'm saving myself for marriage, Dr. Jaafri. How dare you try to corrupt me with your swaying hips and sexy smiles?"

She laughed, even as she was aware that he wasn't really answering her question. It was hard to concentrate on thoughts when his hands were stroking all over her, and his mouth was nibbling at her neck. "Then I would like to grant you a wish, too."

His head jerked up, almost hitting her. Surprise made his lush lower lip slacken for a moment. "Why such generosity?"

"For being you, Sebastian." When his big body stilled around her, she added, "And okay, maybe to mellow you down a bit."

He tucked a curl away from her face with a tenderness she didn't miss. Or the sudden gravelly tenor to his words when he spoke. "And what would you grant me?"

"I want to make you lose your mind. Here, now," she said, looking around as if she could spot any rogue cameras. "Give you new memories around this place."

He cursed and grinned, though she had a feeling it was a filter hiding his true emotion. Then his teeth dug into that sensuous lower lip. "You're on. Only if you join me."

Heat streaked her cheeks and Laila instantly felt her nipples peak to attention. She rubbed her thighs, tempted beyond good sense. "I don't want to be caught by any cameras."

"And if I want us to be caught on camera? If I want more adventure and more boldness and less inhibition from my lover?" he asked, still smiling. But there was a hard, lethal edge to it as if he meant to test her limits or her trust or to assuage his own need for something.

With any other man, Laila would have backed down from the explicit gauntlet thrown down, because it would have been to expose her fears, to mock her "frigidity." But with Sebastian, she thrilled in his asking, that he would give her a chance to be what he wanted. To meet him as his equal, in this, she needed it as she needed air.

"Then I suggest you give me some time and a bit of a private location for my first time on camera and then I'll try to get into it," she said, bluffing her way to a boldness she loved within herself. "The last thing we want is to shock your very traditional grandmother with my naked ass rolling around in the sand."

He laughed and kissed her hard enough to steal her breath away. His fingers gripped the back of her head as he devoured her mouth with firm, hungry strokes, as if he was afraid she might vanish. Rough and soft, his mouth and his stubbled jaw were a contrast in pleasure and delicious pain. When he pulled back, they were both breathing hard, and his eyes carried a wild light that was different from his usual bored charm. "You're an unending delight. Though I would only want what you want, Dr. Jaafri."

"Right now, I want a little cover from the villa."

"Your genie awaits, then."

Anticipation throbbed within her as he pulled her in the opposite direction of the villa. Running on the slipping sand, with waves lapping at her feet, with her hand tucked into his, Laila felt this...figment of joy like she'd never tasted before. It was in the back of her throat, in her chest, in her belly, in all of her, like a warm pulse. And she wanted to hang on to it, nurture it until it became a living flame that would suffuse her entire being.

Shockingly enough, Sebastian brought her to a large outhouse-type structure almost half a mile along the beach, with lots of glass walls and a high roof, answering another question that had been eating away at her. It was a recluse artist's painting cabin, Laila thought, staring eagerly at what lay beyond the small entry area where there were a bunch of unused easels and various shelves with pots of paint.

"This is your space," she said inanely.

A grunt was his answer.

Her curiosity lasted a bare second as Sebastian cupped her face with both hands and kissed her senseless. There was something new in how he kissed her, his hands roving over her body, his large, lean frame caging her against the glass wall. "You wore this dress for me?" he said, licking into her mouth.

"I wanted to corrupt you just a little," she whispered, clinging to his mouth.

When he reached for the threads of her dress strings at her nape, Laila patted his hand away. "This is my show," she said, feeling his gaze on her skin like a laser beam of want and heat. "Hands in the air, please."

He grabbed onto the beam above him, his lean hips thrusting forward in a "do your worst" pose, and she thought she might just die from the decadent sight he made. Reaching him, she unbuttoned his linen shirt—full of paint splotches—and then pushed it off his broad shoulders. If she hadn't been completely bamboozled by the man's sex appeal three years ago, she'd have noticed that he didn't have a wastrel playboy's body, or face or hands. He was all raw, rough masculinity, a man who used his body both as a weapon and a shield.

Leaning down, she pressed a trail of kisses down his chest and licked the slab of thick abdominal muscles as if he was her very own ice cream cone.

His hands went into her hair, sinking deep to hold her still. "Is this allowed, Dr. Jaafri?"

"Yes," she said, breathing it into his taut skin. Then she dragged her teeth over the same trail, marking him.

Then she undid his pants and snuck her hand in to cradle his shaft. God above, he was so hard, and he was all hers. She bit her lower lip as she fisted his erection, remembering the feel of him moving inside her. "Tell me what you like. Show me how to make this so good that you're as desperate for me as I'm for you."

Head thrown back, muscles bunched in his neck, he was all harsh masculine beauty that even her logical mind glitched. A rough grunt fell from his mouth as she rubbed a thumb over the soft head. "Squeeze harder. Move your fist up and down."

Laila complied and soon, he was thrusting his hips into her hand, in a sinuous dance she was leading, and she'd never felt more feminine, more in touch with her own wild cravings, just more...alive. And she wanted more. With her other hand, she pushed his pants farther down, before sinking to her knees.

She felt his shock in his stillness, rather than heard it. Pupils blown, breathing ragged, he looked...like one of those sculptures by some great Renaissance artist. And yet, Sebastian was gloriously alive, able to feel the full spectrum of emotions unlike any other man she had ever met.

"You don't have to do this, Laila," he said, a ragged edge to his tone that said how much he did want it.

"Have you known me to do anything that I'm not into, Sebastian?" she said, teasing him with firm strokes. And then she licked the thick head experimentally. "Tell me, Sebastian. You promised you'd grant me this."

"Why?"

"Because I want the knowledge that I broke your control."

"You do it every day as you smile at me over the breakfast table with our sons in between us, agapi mou."

Her breath hung in her throat as she wondered if she read more meaning into those guttural words. "I want your pleasure at my hands, and your ruin, too. For making me think I was party to cheating. For making me guilty for reliving that night. For..."

For giving her what she hadn't known she needed, she finished to herself.

He smiled and Laila knew he understood this compulsive need to push past any previous limits with each other. To earn surrender in new ways. That he was here with her, and not just the convenient mother of his sons.

His fingers sank back into her curls and gripped the back of her head with a possessiveness she reveled in. Who knew sex could be so fun and primal and...raw?

"Open your mouth wide and take me in. Tap my thigh if it's too much. And remember, agapi, breathe through it."

Laila followed his instructions and soon, he had her how he needed her. She heard his pithy grunts and his filthy curses and his ragged breaths and instinctive thrusts. When she stole a look at him, she saw this painfully beautiful, increasingly complex man rendered in strokes of stark need. And seeing him like this...was as arousing as it was revealing, for it destroyed all the lies she'd told herself about relationships and romance and sex and...love. Lies she'd spun about why she'd surrendered so easily to him three years ago.

It made her realize that at heart she was very much a simple woman with simple desires, that she'd hid behind formulae and calculations and models, that she'd buried to feel right within how she was built and thought.And somehow, Sebastian was the key to unlocking it all and there was no end to all the things she wanted to experience with him, that she wanted to make him feel.

Tears smarted when he went deep with one long stroke and breath was a mirage. Her knees felt the hardness of the rough floor, her cheeks the burn. Laila dug her hands into his thighs and doubled down. The sound of his shaft hitting the roof of her mouth was so erotically filthy that it made her core drip with need. Then he was pulling out of her mouth, and her to her feet, which were barely steady. Before she could protest the abrupt non-finish, he was kissing her, one hand sneaking under her neckline and tweaking her aching nipple.

"Come over with me," he said, rough fingers pulling the hem of her dress up over her thighs, delving deep into her folds with a gentleness that might break her. Then he hooked one finger inside her, hitting that perfect spot, and Laila thought she might be seeing stars. "Cristos, you're so...responsive."

They came together like that, watching each other, stroking each other, chasing each other's pleasure. Laila dug her teeth into his bicep as her climax ripped through her, turning her limbs into liquid sensation, and felt the hot lash of his climax on her belly. His satisfied grunt was a sound she wanted to hear again and again. Breath seesawing out of her mouth, she fell onto him—damp and sweaty—while he wiped her belly with the edges of his shirt.

"Are you well, Dr. Jaafri?"

The tenderness of his question made Laila swallow.

She heard a distinct ringing in her ears, which was probably her heart trying to pound out of her body because she was...so in love with this man who held her as if she was fragile and precious. The realization moved through her in far-flung ripples, turning her inside out, making her feel both new and entrenched in her own skin.

Feeling vulnerable, she tried to pull away from him, but her legs gave out from under her like a newborn fawn's. With a tenderness she suddenly, desperately wished was real, he gathered her and pulled her higher against his solid warmth. A tear ran out of the corner of her eye, and she wiped at it roughly, wishing her body didn't betray her so easily.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what's happening," she said, still battling the sudden realization.

"Shh... There's no need for words when it comes to this between us," he said, rubbing his cheek against hers. "Except praise for me for sending you to outer space."

She chuckled, but it was slight and watery, and she kept her eyes closed, wondering what he would see if she let him. He kissed her temple and then her cheek and then the corner of her mouth. "It's okay, Laila."

He'd said that before, too, infinitely patient, and so ready to grant her whatever she asked for.

God, how had she allowed this? How could she love him with this wild abandon she'd never known before? What if he tired of her while this new...emotion flickered in her chest like a live flame? What if she agreed to marry him and they were locked in a convenient, sterile marriage for the rest of their lives? Could she bear to be near him and know he might never want her for the right reasons? What was the shape of her life if she always just stayed a means for him to fulfill what he'd been denied as a child?

The more she learned of his childhood, the more Laila was sure that Sebastian had never cared about anything much, had never been given the chance to. His art and his sons were now the only things that mattered to him. What if he just didn't have the ability to care about her like she did him?

"You're still trembling," he said, tightening his arms around her.

"You rocked my world," she said, striving for a flirty tone that had never come easy even before this. So she gave in to the only avenue open to her, to feel and show this new emotion. Opening her mouth, she tasted his skin, bit into the hard muscle of his shoulder. "You never told me what had you in such a foul mood."

He was quiet for so long that she resigned herself to his silence, to the fact that there was only so much she could demand, that soon she was going to come up on his hard limits.

With a rough exhale, she tried to pull back when he said, "This...painting I'm working on..." He cleared his throat, his words sounding like they came from some far-off place in him that he never went to in front of others. Laila instinctively knew that he wasn't used to talking about this, that he was letting her enter a forbidden place in his head. "It won't come together. It's the one thing in my goddamned life I've always been good at and the one thing that...calms that noise in my head. But for some reason, this one won't come together the way I see it in my head. I hate it. And I...hate feeling like my canvas won't speak to me when it is the only thing that has always known me."

The real, unfiltered, unmasked Sebastian Skalas...

Laila nodded wordlessly, tears prickling behind her eyelids, and tightened her arms around his waist, hoping he wouldn't push her away. She didn't understand why he didn't let the world see who he was or what peace he gained by hiding himself away—even from himself, she was beginning to realize. But she felt his pain and his powerlessness as if it were her own and she loved him a little more for giving her a tiny bit more than he wanted to, clearly.

She clung to him for long moments, knowing all she had were trite words to take on what she was realizing was a lifetime's pain, so she just held him and he let her and it was enough as darkness fell around them.