His eyes still at the last sentence. I see a flash of anger there before he controls it. I don’t understand it so I squeeze his hand and press my index finger to his lips. He kisses it, like I knew he would. I smile and press it on my forehead, not quite in the center but close by. He smiles, too, dips his hand in the water and splashes me.

I laugh. It’s the sound the night needed. I look at the coins, wishing I had brought my wallet.

“How many of these coins here are yours, Elisa?”

Bloody hell! I need to be careful around him. Nothing seems to escape his vigilant eyes.

“A fair few. A girl needs her luck.”

He chuckles. “That’s not very scientific.”

“Luck never is. Otherwise, it would be predictable.”

He digs into his pocket. “We can’t mess with luck,” he says and hands me a few quarters.

I take the coins with a smile, closing my hand into a fist. Then, I turn my back and shut my eyes. Over the last four years, I have wished for my supplement, for the Solises’ safety, for Reagan’s finals, for my green card. But today, I don’t wish for any of that. There is little luck can do for me now. So instead I make the only wish my mind has been able to form since that horrid day a week ago. I blow on the coins once and throw them over my shoulder. They splash with a satisfying plop.

When I turn, Aiden is standing right next to me. He pulls me to his chest and I rest my cheek there, feeling lighter than I have ever felt in this garden.

“What did you wish for?”

“If I tell you, it won’t come true.”

“Or maybe it will.”

I look up at him, dissecting his face. What do I have to lose? Everything, that vicious voice inside spews in terror. The closer we get to dawn, the more panicked it becomes. Of its own volition, my wish bursts from my lips.

“I want another day like this!”

Aiden frowns, his eyes on my lips as though the words are still hanging there. He puts his hands like a vise around my face, his eyes searching mine relentlessly. I have nothing to hide in this wish so I simply watch him, begging in my head. One more day, please. One more day.

“You want another day of embargo?” he asks, sounding awed.

Is that what I want? No, not exactly. Sometime between his first kiss and this last wish, things changed for me. Instead of wanting to share nothing but the present, I now want to share everything but a part of the future. And that’s a big difference.

“No. I want a day with you. We can both choose what we share. Not by rules, not by embargo, but because we want to.”

He shakes his head slowly and pulls away. He runs his hand over his hair and pinches the bridge of his nose. Is the idea of another day with me this difficult?

“It’s your choice what to share, Aiden,” I say quietly. “I want the day to be fun for you too. Just like you made today for me.”

“And in the end, you will tell me what you’re hiding?”

“You have my word.”

He takes a deep breath and nods. “Then another day it is.”

Chapter Twenty-One

New

There is something about the scent of a rose that defies biology. You smell it with your mind first before the rest of the senses fall in rank at its fragrance. So it’s the first thing I register now as something soft dances on my lips. I inhale as the scent becomes stronger, mixed with sandalwood and cinnamon—

“Oh!” I gasp, flinging my eyes open.

Aiden is sitting at the edge of the bed, his face eclipsing the ivory centifolia rose he is fluttering over my lips. He seems to have gotten better looking overnight. It’s not just the dark jeans and the light blue shirt that offsets his eyes. It’s the breakfast tray on the nightstand and the lopsided smile the moment I open my eyes.

“Was that a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?” he says, tapping the centifolia on my lips.

Nothing bad about this “oh”. Nothing at all. Oh, oh, oh! He is here. And still mine for a day. He lays the rose on my pillow and leans in slowly, his intoxicating scent rendering all roses redundant. He brushes my cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“Is the scientific study complete?”

I blink a few times. “Huh?” is my Einstein response.

“You’re watching me quite critically so I can only assume you’re solving a chemistry problem.”

“I don’t think we have a chemistry problem.” My voice is soft as though it’s evaporating in my dry mouth.

He runs his thumb over my lower lip. It pulsates a little under his touch. “No, I don’t think we do, either.” He kisses my lips gently. “I’m afraid I bit these too hard,” he says, running his tongue over them like a balm.

Oh no, do I have morning breath? Oh, who cares! “You can bite them again if you want.”

He blows on them lightly and pulls away with a sigh. “Maybe you should eat your breakfast first. I already deprived you of dinner last night.”

I’m about to say food is overrated but my stomach growls. Embarrassed, I lean against the headboard and pick up the tray. Eggs, bacon, scone, orange marmalade, Cornish clotted cream, a flute of cranberry juice and a glass of water. But the best part is the apple slice and the Baci chocolate.

I laugh. “How did you know I liked Cornish clotted cream?”

“Your roommate mentioned it when she was berating you about Colin Firth.”

“Wow! You have a good memory.”

He shrugs.

“Well, thank you! This is beautiful. Especially the Baci. Did you do all this?”

“No, Cora did. But if it redeems me in your eyes, I placed the order and sent Benson to hunt for the rose. I did give him a picture of the Elisa look-alike.”

“You’re redeemed.” I laugh, tucking the rose behind my ear and taking a bite of my eggs.

“You’re stunning,” he says, almost under his breath. I look up ready for a joke, but his lips are parted and for an instant, I believe my own beauty. Then I remember I have my mouth open and fork in hand. I chew the eggs, lest they drop all over the bed and ruin my new image and his silk sheets.

“Your blush is making the rose jealous,” he chuckles.

“Occupational hazard of working with rubidium and bromine vapors.” I feel awkward so I change the subject to much more important matters. “So, will you tell me something that’s not embargoed?”

The turquoise depths still. “It’s kind of early for that, isn’t it?”

He’s probably right. Besides, I have all day. “Okay, so what would you like to do today?”

“Well, I was thinking you could pose for your painting and then this evening, we can be together.” He looks like he has spent endless thought on this plan.

My fork drops on the tray. “My—my painting?” It feels like the eggs are hatching in my stomach.

His face remains impassive. “Yes.”

“I don’t want to pose for the painting,” I blurt out. The flute of cranberry juice rattles a little. “I want to spend time with you.”

He smiles without his dimple and caresses my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “And we will. Tonight.” He picks up the fork, loads it with eggs and shoves it in my mouth, which has popped open for reasons having nothing to do with eating.

I chew and swallow as soon as I can do so without choking. He loads the fork again but I stop his hand.

“Aiden, we had a deal to spend the day together. I share something, you share something.” I try to keep my voice in calm territory, rather than in wailing land where it naturally wants to go.

Aiden’s jaw flexes as though he is clamping his teeth shut. He lowers the fork slowly on the tray. His left hand claws into a white fist in the comforter. A jolt of fury flashes in his eyes.

“Elisa, we can spend time together after you’re finished. This isn’t very complicated.” His voice is even, so even that I can only conclude it’s hiding a storm underneath. And he left out the “sharing” part.