Free Midnight At Tiffany's by Sarah Morgan Page B

transforming his features. “It’s adorable. It makes you human. You’re imperfect. I love that.”
    It was her turn to stare. “You love that I’m imperfect?”
    “Everyone is imperfect, Matilda. Everyone. But most people are afraid to show their imperfections.”
    “Mine are pretty hard to hide.” She shifted awkwardly. “You love the fact that I’m clumsy?”
    “I love everything about you. I love
you
.” He breathed deeply. “And I know it’s too soon to say that. I know it’s crazy, so don’t give me that look. You’re not thinking anything I haven’t thought myself. But logic doesn’t change the way I feel. Do you know how many people I meet like you?”
    “Not many, I assume, or your dry cleaning bill would be high enough to bring down the company.”
    He laughed. “I know you’re clumsy. You threw champagne over me. Then you dropped a slice of pizza on my jacket, broke the zipper on my pants and crushed my hand in the bathroom door.”
    If there had been an ejector seat, Matilda would have pressed the button. “I’m sorry about that. I wanted to give you a night you wouldn’t forget but I didn’t quite mean it to be for reasons of personal injury.”
    “You gave me a night I wouldn’t ever forget, but not for those reasons. Because it was the first time in my life a woman has been herself with me. Our relationship might have been short, but it wasn’t fake. It wasn’t superficial.” His voice softened. “We had fun, Matilda. You know we had fun.”
    Her mouth was dry. “It wasn’t real.”
    “Which part wasn’t real? The part when we made love all night, or the part when we watched the sunrise and talked about everything? It was real, and you have no idea how long I’ve waited for real.”
    “You didn’t know who I was.”
    “Yes, I did.” His hands tightened on her face and he lowered his forehead to hers. “I knew exactly who you were. The only thing I didn’t know was your name or what you did for a living, but that isn’t what defines a person. In the end it isn’t about what you do or what you call yourself, it’s about the person inside, and I know the person inside.”
    “Chase—”
    “I know you have a dream to be a published writer, and you want it so badly you were prepared to put aside your natural shyness and approach a man you found intimidating. I know you hate your long legs because it makes you conspicuous and you hate being conspicuous. I know that when you’re listening you tilt your head to one side. And I know your mom would have been proud of how hard you’ve worked to follow your dream. I liked the dedication at the front of your book. She would have liked it, too. Now I understand why you wanted to see your book on the shelves across the US.”
    Her eyes filled and her throat thickened. “Chase—”
    “There are people I see every day who I don’t know as well as I know you. And do you know why? Because they hide who they are behind a screen. You didn’t hide.” He lowered his forehead to hers. “Meeting you changed my life.”
    She could hardly breathe. “Because I dropped ice in your lap?”
    His eyes were amused. “No, because you made me thinklong and hard about my life.” His smile faded. “You questioned why someone who had reached my level in an organization would need to spend their time doing things they hated doing. And I realized you were right. I didn’t need to do those things. You asked me about my interests and I realized I’d let them slide into the background along with the people I really want to spend time with.”
    “So no more parties?”
    “That depends.” The words sounded like a question, and she felt her heart miss a beat.
    “On what?”
    “On whether you’re by my side.” He kissed her gently and then lifted his head and stroked her face with his fingers. “You didn’t just show me who you really were, you showed me who I was, too, and you reminded me what’s important. You forced me to take a