And perfection. Cade was pure, utter perfection. From the dark blond lashes framing his gorgeous eyes to the loose curls now sticking up from his head, to the way he kissed her neck, her arm, her skin, everywhere he could, even though they’d both come.
Perfection.
Her perfection.
“I love you,” she told him again. Just because she felt like it. And maybe because she could. Because they were together now, and he wasn’t going to hold anything over her, and she’d never be a burden. Unwanted, unneeded burden. Because she realized something as he moved onto his side and curled on the narrow couch with her. Burdens had nothing to do with love. As long as there was love, there would be no resentment, just a desire to help.
Maybe that was what had been missing all along.
Maybe that was why, in Cade’s arms, she was no longer afraid.
TWENTY-ONE
Two weeks later
Kylie’s hand was clammy in Cade’s as they headed into the nightclub. “Are you sure your friends are going to want to meet me?” She asked for what felt like the dozenth time that evening. She’d fussed and worried over dinner, fixing her makeup over and over again even though in his eyes, she was utter perfection. He knew his Kylie had confidence issues, and she was working on them.
He’d just have to keep loving her and making her feel as utterly beautiful as he knew she was. Not that it was a chore, he thought with a grin, giving her hand a squeeze. He’d gladly do so every day for the rest of his life.
Moving Kylie and her Nana Sloane to New York City with him had been one of the happiest weeks he’d ever had. While he wasn’t a big fan of Nana Sloane—not after some of the stories Kylie had told him about her childhood—he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the frail lady with the confused mind. They’d moved her into one of the best nursing homes Cade could find, and he’d used his name to finagle a discount for Kylie, since she insisted on paying. That was fine with him. She could pay until she was used to him and his money. It was actually kind of refreshing being with someone who didn’t give him an expectant look every time the check arrived at a restaurant.
If anything, his Kylie laughed and teased him about his wealth. She’d burst into a fit of giggles when he’d shown her his Manhattan townhouse and the Monet—a real one—above the fireplace. “What, were there no Picassos available when you were decorating?” she teased. “Museum fresh out of Van Goghs?”
He’d tickled her straight into bed for that one.
She’d teased him about the thousand thread-count sheets, too. Were three hundred threads not enough for a billionaire? And she’d poked fun at his marble-tiled bathroom and all the other expensive trappings in his townhouse. Kylie was cheap, she declared, and if she was going to live with him, he was going to eat off-brand groceries and shop at the local Super Saver because no one really needed to spend eighty dollars on a hand towel. He was fine with that. He didn’t care if she turned the entire place out with plastic furniture and red Solo drinking cups. Just as long as she was in his arms every night, it was fine. Cade preferred to donate to charities anyhow. Billions of dollars were far too much for one man to have, and he’d told Kylie that once. Her eyes had gleamed so happily that he felt like giving all of his money away.
He didn’t, though; he was saving it to spoil his woman whether she wanted it or not.
Like tonight, they’d gone out to one of New York’s swankiest restaurants so Cade could show off to Kylie a bit. They’d ordered a moderately priced wine so Kylie wouldn’t feel obligated to drink the entire bottle and he didn’t let her see the menu so she wouldn’t exclaim over the prices. Still, he had a suspicion she was eating on the cheap when she ordered chicken instead of the lobster he had. That was fine. He made her eat a dessert with him anyhow, just so he could lick some of the chocolate off of her decadent, full mouth.
Now it was time for his weekly Brotherhood meeting, and he was bringing Kylie to meet his friends. She didn’t know it was a secret society meeting. Actually, most of the secret had gone out of the society once Gretchen had started showing up on a regular basis, and then the other men had one by one started bringing their wives and fiancées around. Last week, Audrey had made a genius suggestion that the men were anxious to implement, and Cade was curious to see the results.
As he led Kylie into the club and down one of the back halls, she ran a finger under her lip, checking her lipstick once more.
“You look fine, love,” he told her. “Better than fine. Utterly beautiful.” She was, too. Dressed in a tight black sheath that wrapped below her breasts, the dress showed off the exaggerated hourglass of Kylie’s lush figure and emphasized her glorious breasts. Her golden hair had been freshly retipped with flame red, and was pulled back from her face into glam waves.