He brushed his thumb across her lips, letting his gaze roam over her, staggered again by her bravery, her fearlessness, her compassion.
‘Everyone else can still call me Ellie,’ she added. ‘Because the nickname kind of fits with both names. But you’ve always seen me for who I really am. So it feels right to change my name back to Eloise Fraser and have you call me that.’
He nodded, his heart swelling in his chest and making it tough to breathe.
‘Roman will be overjoyed,’ he said, because he knew how much his friend had always needed to have Eloise back. And this would be an important step on that journey.
‘What about you?’ she said, and he heard it then—the tiny note of doubt, of caution, of insecurity, which he’d helped put there, and which he intended to undo, even if he had to spend the rest of his life showing her exactly how much she was worth. ‘Do you think it’s the right thing to do?’ she asked.
Sinking down in the bed, his leg sliding deliciously between her naked thighs as he pulled her closer still. ‘Honestly, Eloise,’ he murmured, cradling her chin to lift her mouth to his. ‘You could ask me to call you Quasimodo Fraser and I’d think it was the right thing to do.’
‘For Pete’s sake!’ She slapped him playfully on the shoulder with mock outrage, but she was still laughing as she surrendered to his fierce, ferocious kiss.
As he explored her mouth, drinking in her passion, revelling in their shared happiness, he vowed to offer her another new name soon, to add to the other two.
Eloise Fraser Costa sounded even more right to him, now he knew he didn’t have to be afraid of his father’s legacy any longer.
Because Eleanor—or rather Eloise, he corrected himself—saw him for who he really was too. And if he was good enough for a woman like her to love, he couldn’t possibly be that bad a guy after all.