Dearest Ivie

But he had never faltered in his love for her. He was the mountain and the bedrock that gave her the confidence to soar.

“I’ll call you, I promise,” she said. “Soon as I walk into my apartment—and no, he doesn’t stay the day. I know, I know.”

Of course, she wasn’t about to bring up the things they’d done right before dawn had come. No reason to push the accord between Pops and the BF. Her father, for all his iconoclasm and biker vibe, was at his heart a traditional old-schooler who didn’t cheat on his shellan, treated females with respect, and believed his daughter was too precious to sleep around.

Stepping back, she gave Silas a chance to pay his respects. Which he did.

Extending his palm, he said, “No knife in your hand this time.”

Hirah let out a grunt, and then grabbed Silas and yanked him in for a back slap that was so hard, her father looked like he was trying to burp a stone baby. But Silas took it and gave it back in turn. Then the two males released.

“You hurt her, I’ll kill ya.” Hirah leaned in. “And I don’t mean that in a threatening way. I will follow through on it, and it will be slow and painful—”

Bingo. “Dad! Come on—”

Hirah shrugged. “Just letting him know where he stands. You mess with my daughter, I’m going to put a hurt on you thatcha won’t walk away from. Very simple.”

“I would feel the same if I had a daughter,” Silas said quietly.

“See! My man.” Hirah cuffed him on the shoulder. “I like this one.”

Ivie coughed the ache in her chest away. “Love you, Dad.”

“Love you more.”

Silas helped her into her seat in the Range Rover, raised a hand to Hirah, and then they were easing on down the hill.

Turning around in her seat, she took a last look at her oak tree of a sire, standing in the cold with nothing but a muscle shirt on, his bulging biceps and planted feet like something out of the Marvel Universe.

“So much love in that house,” Silas said. “Turns it into a palace, it does.”

“I love them so much.”

“The feeling is amply returned.” He took her hand and held it. “I will say, though…”

She pivoted back around. “What, you didn’t like being stalked by my dad?”

“Your aunt. With the cards. I think she cheats.”

“Oh, God, I know, right?”

They talked the evening over as they headed down the rise and out to the main road. As they passed snowy fields and skeletal trees, she reflected on how it had been a long time since she had done this with someone else, this trading of recollection and opinion about a night out that had been shared.

They had surmounted the next rise and were descending the far side when the Range Rover started to slow.

And then stop.

“Something wrong?” she said, looking at the dash and then out of the windows.

Silas turned to her and said in a guttural voice, “There’s not a lot of time before dawn.”

“Has this thing broken down—”

“What would you say if I suggested you dematerialize home?”

She glanced at the clock. The goodbyes had taken twenty minutes at least and that meant they had maybe only forty minutes before they had to start worrying about the dawn’s arrival. Her apartment was a good fifteen miles away still, but they had time.

“I think we’ll make it.” And in her heart, she kind of wanted him to have to stay with her. “I mean—”

“But if I don’t have to drop you off, we’ve got an extra ten minutes together.”

“Oh, okay, sure. Ah…I can just dematerialize out, sure.” She reached down for her purse. “So tomorrow—”

He went for her so fast, she didn’t track the lunge. One minute he was sitting in the driver’s side behind the wheel, the next he was all but dragging her out of her seat and into his lap.

Well, this was something she could help him with.

Kissing him back, she sprang her seatbelt as he reclined himself, and then she was straddling him, her thighs split wide, things digging into her, especially at her core. As his palms shot up under her shirt and captured her breasts, shoving her bra out of the way, she moaned into his mouth.

“I want you,” she said. “Oh, God…”

“Pants, I need help with your pants.”

And that was when she went all yoga position on the sitch, twisting herself at strange angles so that she could strip off her black slacks. It was an ugly show, for sure. And she had to start laughing when her calf cramped up and she contorted involuntarily, her head flipping back and knocking into the window.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’ve got a charley horse—here, let me just—”

“Can I help with—”

Her shoe popped off and ricocheted somewhere, and then her bra sprang loose, and she elbowed him in the face.

“This always goes better in the movies,” she said between giggles.

They laughed so hard, she needed to recover with some deep breaths when most of punch-drunk funnies had passed. But she did get one pant leg free, and the second Silas’s hand brushed her core, things got serious fast.

Stroking her, his lids lowered and he growled, “Give me your mouth, female.”

He pulled her to him by the back of the neck and then she felt something between her legs that was hot and blunt.

Ivie sat down on his arousal, and they both groaned and jerked. Controlling the tempo, she rolled her hips and used her knees to go up and down, the pleasure so acute, she couldn’t decide whether to close her eyes so she could concentrate more or keep them open so she never forgot where they were and what they were doing.

Her release was overwhelming and he was right there with her, even though they were straining in the confined space, and their clothes were tangled, and oh, crap, the bucket seat was sooo in the way, and also the console—how great was it that none of that mattered?

The sex was incredible and intimate and exciting and fun and poignant.

And when it was over, they sagged together, and she put her head into his neck as he ran his palms up and down her back.

“Now that,” she mumbled, “was a good use of time.”

Silas chuckled, his chest vibrating under her. “I have moments of true inspiration, and that most certainly was one of them.”

Easing back, she stared into his eyes.

As he looked at her, she nearly said it. But in the end, she kept the I-love-you to herself.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” she whispered as she smoothed his thick, dark hair back.

“I’m counting the minutes.”

“Where are we going? Greece? Or somewhere in Asia?”

“Be waiting for me at your building door at six and find out.”

“Mmmm, can’t wait.” She brushed his mouth. “And maybe…”

“Yes,” he said in a low voice. “I will stay all the way through the night—”

“Shoot.”

“What?”

“A week ago, I agree to take an extra shift for a friend.” Damn it. “So I have to work tomorrow night even though I’d usually be off.”

“That’s okay. We’ll go to dinner and I’ll come back again at the end of the evening. I’m already hungry for you and I’m still inside you.”

Ivie laughed deep in her throat. “You say the sweetest things, I swear.”

“You better go.”

“I know.”

She stayed one more moment, her body loath to dismount from him. And as a wave of sadness came over her, she tried to tell herself it was too early to go into mourning.

Stupid, too.

Given that she had the rest of her life to miss him.

Chapter Nine

And then he stood her up.

The following evening, Ivie was still waiting at the front door of her apartment building at six thirty-seven. Her phone was in her hand with no texts or calls having come through, and there was no car pulling up, and no Silas.

He had gotten home safely. She knew that. He had rung her as soon as he’d walked through his door, and they’d talked until she had fallen asleep, her cell cradled to her ear like it was a pillow. At dusk, she’d woken up excited and ready to see him, and had dressed up a little, and rushed down here.