After all these years, all the running away, I’d finally found someone I wanted to love. Someone I wanted to love me back.

Not wanted.

No … I loved him.

The feeling crashed over me, and I suddenly felt annoyed with myself for not having said it to him. Sure, I’d told him I was crazy about him and I’d alluded to it… but I hadn’t said those actual words. I loved him. I couldn’t sleep for worrying about him. That’s why the prehistoric butterflies in my belly hadn’t disappeared even after I got news of Fairchild’s demise from Horus.

I loved Rhys.

And he needed to know that. Not tomorrow or the next day… but now.

“Hey, you okay?” Carlos’s face appeared in front of mine.

No, I was not okay.

I was in love.

People were a million things when they were in love but “okay” was surely not one of them.

Pushing a strained smile, I nodded. “Yeah.”

Carlos didn’t look like he believed me, but he didn’t badger me. Instead he led me out of the elevator and down the hall to Rhys’s office. He knocked and opened the door, sticking only his head around the jamb. “Got a delivery in a very cute fucking package out here.”

“How about you not notice that shit from now on?” I heard Rhys say. “Jimmy, give us a minute. Let my girl in.”

“No funny business,” I heard Jimmy warn just before the door opened fully to reveal the trainer. His eyes dropped down my body, and he rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake.” He cut me a look. “That goes for you too. Jesus.”

He strode away, taking a chuckling Carlos with him. When I turned back from watching them go, I found Rhys sitting on the edge of his rosewood desk. He wore long boxing shorts and boxing boots in black and gold. His ripped torso drew my attention for a second because, well, it was magnificent, until my eyes were drawn to his hands all wrapped up.

My stomach somersaulted.

I could not lose him to this fight. Emotionally or otherwise.

“You coming in or not, Tinker Bell?”

Swallowing hard, I strode inside.

Rhys’s gaze drifted down my body, and his hands curled around the edge of the desk. When his eyes met mine, they were full of heat. “Did you wear that dress just to torture me?”

I smoothed a nervous hand down the pleated skirt. “It’s just a dress.”

He cocked his head. “You worried about this fight?”

It was somewhat disconcerting how perceptive he could. “I know you’ll do great.”

“But you’re still worried. That why you’re still standing all the way over there?” He pushed up off the desk, and I crossed the distance between us.