“What?” I meant to speak in a properly outraged volume but it comes out as scandalized screech.

He is still smiling. “It’s not for you, it’s for your family. As I understand it, they need a water heater and I’m sure you’ve always wished you could help them.”

“How did you know the Solises need a water heater?” Still screeching. Bloody hell, can he see the future too?

“Benson has special talents.”

I watch him, opening and closing my mouth like my biology professor’s guppy fish.

“How much?” I ask eventually.

“Enough to help them, but not enough for us to fight about.”

“Can it be on loan?”

“No. Unless you want ICE to question your finances.”

I take a deep breath, running out of arguments. “All right, thank you. But why are you so concerned about the Solises all of a sudden?”

His eyes shift to a careful setting. “Because I thought that if you have some way to help them financially, you will not feel compelled to also be around them and potentially risk your immigration status.”

“You mean you’re buying me off?” Voice back to screeching.

“Technically, I’m buying them off.”

I scoot away from him, furious. “I don’t choose to be around them out of obligation, Aiden! I want to be around them because I love them. So, no, buying them a water heater wouldn’t replace them anymore than looking at my mum and dad’s pictures brings them back!” The last words cut my lips like glass and I’m breathing hard. I close my eyes trying to calm myself, but even Mendeleev is not helping me now.

I hear a deep sigh and feel his index finger under my chin. It rests there, probably waiting for me to open my eyes. Damn him and his touch because the moment I feel it, anger evaporates. I open one eye. He looks like the dragon may be sniffing around, waiting for an outing to roar. Glinting eyes, thin lips, clenched jaw.

“I’ve never pretended to understand love, Elisa. So fine, use the money as you see fit. But I will be damned if I let anything risk your immigration status. Now, get ready. We leave at sunset.” With that military order, he marches out of the bedroom.

The moment the door closes behind him, I feel terrible. He was only trying to help. But how can he think a water heater would compensate for the only home I have known these last four years? Is that how he loves? Oxygen freezes in my lungs the moment the question forms in my head. As suddenly as the anger surged, just as quickly I understand what it really was. Fear. Fear that this is how Aiden loves—with deals and price tags. My insides start twisting again but before I deposit the contents of my stomach in the toilet, I hang on to one truth: the visceral pain in his eyes when he talks about his mother. No man who hurts like that lacks knowledge of love, no matter how much he denies it.

Strangely, I feel better even though his love is not directed at me. But ever since my new mission in life became to save him, I suppose I have needed to know that he can allow love in his life.

I leap off the bed and sprint out of the bedroom to find him. He is out on the patio, leaning against the cedar wall and hissing about low EBITDA on his cell phone. When he sees me, he snaps at the poor soul on the line.

“I’ll call you back!” He hangs up and stands taller, watching me without blinking.

I run to him and kiss him on the mouth, climbing his body and holding his face tight between my hands. He staggers for a moment but then wraps my legs around him, his hand fisting in my hair. His kiss is angry. He bites my lips with a growl. I bite him back. Then, slowly our tongues take over in soothing, soft strokes.

I pull away, more light-headed than I have ever been in Denton’s lab. “You’re a wonderful man,” I tell him.

The V between his eyebrows deepens as though he doesn’t think he belongs in the same sentence as the word wonderful. “Did you sniff some of Cora’s cleaning chemicals, Elisa? I’ve told her to use only biodegradable materials.”

“No, just your cologne. That’s all, Aiden.” I hop out of his arms and sprint back to the bedroom before I say something that will earn me a permanent restraining order.

* * * * *

Two hours later, my hair washed and dried, I pick up the knickers Aiden bought me. Actually, calling them knickers is an insult. Masterpiece fits better. My belly starts tightening as I slide on the turquoise lace-and-organza artwork and matching bra. Will the lingerie he buys me always do this? I hope so.

I avoid the mirror until the last minute after I zip up the dress and fluff the layers. Then, with a deep breath, I turn slowly and look at myself. The woman gaping at me is not my mum. She is shiny, bright, her eyes almost lilac. She is someone I used to know—but better. I twirl on the spot, twice, three times, laughing. The turquoise layers span around me like a rose opening in time lapse. I teeter out of the restroom, careful on my new, silver Louboutin heels, wishing there was something I could give back to Aiden. What do you give the man who has everything? Hmm, I’ll have to ponder this.

I pass by the painting room, making a note to remind Javier that his supplies are still here. We don’t want Feign thinking Javier stole them. The flickering lights precede me down the hall. With my new eyes, I stop abruptly where I am—by the piano in the living room. If Aiden needs warning even to this degree, I should be afraid. I really should, just like he told me. All it would take is barging in somewhere while he has his eyes closed. Or jumping him the next time he takes my breath away. But there is a deep loneliness behind this safety measure, a loneliness that propels my feet forward and suddenly, I’m running. Not to the front door, but to his library.

I almost collide with the closed door in my madness but his voice inside rescues me. It’s an odd mixture of frustration and regret.

“What is your malfunction, Cal?”

I clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. He sounds just like Reagan.

“I don’t know if I’m coming yet, all right?… Yes, I know it’s a tradition… Why?… As a matter of fact, that’s exactly why… You might win because I’m sure I’ll fuck it up…suck camel dick…fuck off.”

Suck camel dick? Poor camel. He slams the phone down and I hear some mumbling, no doubt more profanities. I take a deep breath, knocking with impatience, not fear. How different I feel in front of this door now than two days ago!

“Aiden?”

Some scrambling of papers. “Yes, come in, Elisa.”

I open the door, and there he is. More wit-shattering than ever in a tailored navy suit, white shirt and no tie. The defined muscles of his neck form a sculpted V that disappears beneath the open collar of his shirt. He looks like he causes wars, not fights them.

He is stacking some papers in neat, precise angles. But the moment he looks at me, he drops them. The loose pages miss the desk and fly everywhere but he doesn’t blink. He stares at me for a good fifteen seconds, mouthing something that looks very much like “holy fuck”. I resist the urge to take a bow and hand out autographs. It’s great being a woman.

He starts strolling toward me, eyes on fire. He stops only when he is close, so close that there is no space for air between us. Then, slowly, he dips me over his arm so that my throat is exposed and presses his lips there once.

“You look so beautiful.” His voice is almost pained. I know the feeling—the sense that you are beholding something so wondrous that it could not have been meant for you.

“As do you,” I whisper. I feel his smile against my skin as his lips start fluttering over my collarbones and my exposed shoulders. Suddenly, the corset is too tight. I want to rip it open.

“Do you want me to beat up whoever was making you upset on the phone?” I start babbling so that I don’t tear off my dress and undo all my hard work.