“You’re welcome.”
“By the way, when are you moving?”
“My, news does travel fast these days.”
“A lot of people are curious about what you plan to do now that…you know. It’s come up a few times.”
“I see.”
“France is, like, far. And cold in the winter. Maybe going in spring would be a better idea.”
A moment of pause, and when she spoke, her voice was warm and mellow. “France isn’t that far. Not even half a day by plane. In any case, I won’t be moving until next year, now that I’m helping out with the wedding.”
“You sure? About helping with the wedding, I mean.”
“Jane seemed to want me to.” She cleared her throat. “Unless you object?”
“Of course not,” Iain said quickly.
His mother would be just the person to guide Jane. Ceinlys was an excellent hostess and knew the etiquette and best practices for all sorts of events. In addition, having his mother’s advice and assistance would relieve Jane’s anxiety. Iain could tell his fiancée was silently fretting about making sure that the ceremony would be an event that people in his social circle would find acceptable. Iain personally didn’t care that much about what other people thought, but ever since they’d attended Mark and Hilary’s gorgeous outdoor wedding, Jane had been poring over bridal magazines and websites, biting her nails all the while.
“Thanks again,” he added.
“My pleasure, Iain.”
Chapter Four
It was well past six by the time Sophia came home.
Home. The word still felt surreal as she took in Dane’s spacious penthouse. She hadn’t had a place she could call home for so long. When she’d been competing, she’d often traveled and gone to wherever her coaches were. When injuries had derailed her career, she’d gone to where the best physical therapists were. When she’d finally accepted that she would never skate in a competition again, she’d gone off to college.
And her parents’ house? That had never been a home—just a place where she lived.
The city glittered on the other side of the wraparound floor-to-ceiling glass panes. The penthouse was mostly frosty white, with a bit of pale blue and some dark wood trim. A huge TV took up most of one wall; facing it were a couple of white leather couches. A set of glass sculptures in various vivid colors occupied niches.
Dane had told her she could change anything she liked, but she’d left the color-scheme alone. She felt drawn to its stark austerity, the minimalist beauty that reminded her of his personality. But she’d placed lots of framed photos on the mantle above the gas fireplace. They were a series, showcasing their lives together. A candid shot of them at Mark’s wedding—she hadn’t realized the photographer captured it. A few with them in the beach house in Mexico, the place where she and Dane had first met. Several selfies together as they spent time together. Sophia wanted to capture every precious moment and immortalize it, so she and Dane would never forget how things were, even if…
She inhaled sharply and shook herself. She shouldn’t think about that. It wasn’t going to do her any good.
Trying to liven things up, she put some soft music on the stereo. Before the first piece finished, the door opened, and Dane walked in. Her breath caught at how gorgeous he was—all that dark hair, the arresting blue eyes and chiseled face that belonged to a fallen angel. A custom-tailored suit hugged his lean, powerful body, and she licked her lips. She’d never found suits sexy until she’d met him.
His eyes warmed as they zeroed in on her. “I’m home.”
“Welcome back,” she said, going on her toes to kiss him. She was short, and old injuries made it hard for her to wear heels for long.
He pulled her in close, his arm wrapping around her, fitting her tightly against his hard body. His lips pressed against hers, then he licked her mouth. “I never wanted to come home so badly until you.”
“Mmm.” She smiled. “Good. Because I always look forward to having you here with me.” She sniffed. “Is that Chinese?”
“Yup. Wonton soup and sweet and sour pork, just like you said.”
She let out an appreciative sigh. “Perfect. Thank you.” She wrapped an arm around him as they went to the dining room together. “How was your day?”
“Productive,” he said succinctly.
“Did you make people cry?”
“No more than they deserved.”
She would’ve been worried if she hadn’t known he was a hard but fair boss. She rolled her eyes, then chuckled at his exaggerated evil look. “You are impossible.”
“But you love me anyway.”
“That I do.”
“Sit down and let’s eat.”
He pulled out a chair for her, then spread the takeout on the table. In addition to what she’d asked for, he’d also grabbed two orders of spring rolls—her favorite—and Szechuan beef.
They shared the food. She couldn’t possibly eat all of her pork, and she also liked the spicy beef dish.
“How was your day?” Dane asked.
“Good! I got to see Salazar and Jane.”
“What did you see him for?” He scowled. “Or would it be more precise to ask, why he is harassing you?”
“He’s not bothering me. I wanted to check up on him. He’s living alone for the first time in…well, a while.”
“Doesn’t he have a new girlfriend?” Dane’s lip curled at “girlfriend.” He’d never approved of his father’s womanizing ways and still didn’t, even though Salazar was single now.
Sophia supposed it would be awkward if he married somebody younger than Dane. But she had hoped… Well, a small part of her wished Salazar and Ceinlys had managed to reconcile. It seemed so sad to throw everything away. Surely there had to have been some kind of bond for them to stay together so long.
“He’s your father,” she said quietly. “You could be a little kinder.”
“I’m trying. For you.”
She linked her fingers with his. “I know.” Salazar and Dane didn’t have the best relationship. She didn’t think the man ever had a good relationship with anybody in his family, which was sad. Salazar wasn’t a jerk, exactly, but he had his share of issues, mainly his pride. “By the way, we don’t have to host the Christmas party after all.”
Dane cocked an eyebrow. “We don’t? I thought you wanted to. You were quite…persuasive.”
Her face heated. She’d been creatively merciless in bed to get him to say yes. Not that she’d minded. It’d been fun and hot as hell to torment him until he’d relented. “Well. Jane and Iain are getting married on Christmas Eve.”
Dane’s eyes widened slightly. “This Christmas Eve?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Damn.” He sat back and sipped his red wine. “And all this time I thought all he was good at was kicking people’s asses.” A slight shake of his head. “That’s brilliant.”
“How?”
“Don’t you see? Now he has the perfect excuse to skip future family Christmas parties.”