I went to Ethan's room again, and instead of leaving after dropping off his scarf like I planned, I ended up having sex with him. Again. I just couldn't leave him alone after seeing the shape he was in - drunk, miserable, a mess that hadn't eaten or slept. And then he started talking. At first, he was a jerk. Maybe I should have left then. But I didn't. I slapped him - something I still can't believe I did - and afterwards, he turned his words against himself. For some reason, hearing him tell mean lies about himself hurt me more than the things he said to me. I couldn't stand it. That's why I kissed him. I wanted him to stop even if that meant having sex with him.

  Like I said, it wasn't out of pity.

  As before, it was amazing. A little rough, maybe, but I can't say I didn't like it. Still, when it was over and my senses returned, the regret set in fast. Ethan was remorseful, too. When he apologized, I thought of telling him that we should stop having sex before we have more regrets. But the wrong words came out of my mouth.

  Maybe it was still the effect of the afterglow. Maybe I was tired. Maybe it was because Ethan still had that look on his face that made me just want to hug him. Whatever it was, I ended up saying something else from what I had in mind. And before I could take it back, Ethan started asking me out. I couldn't say no.

  So here we are, sightseeing again, in the lovely city of Bern this time. So far, we've taken a stroll by the Aare River and through the charismatic Old Town, with its sandstone arches and intriguing ancient fountains. We've stopped to admire the majestic Gothic cathedral and watch a little bit of whimsical theater at the 800-year-old clock tower. Now, we're at the historical museum, which has a whole floor devoted to Einstein. Apparently, he lived in Bern for seven years. I've read that we can visit the apartment he actually lived in, too, though that's not too high on my list.

  I guess Ethan and I are on another "date", but I'm also on a mission. Today, on our last day in Switzerland, I'm going to tell Ethan we're over - no more messing around when we get back to Chicago. We'll just carry on as we did before, as if nothing happened.

  I'm just waiting for the right opportunity, which hasn't come yet. Or am I? Maybe I'm just stalling so I get to spend more time with Ethan. Or maybe I'm hoping that something good will happen, like him telling me that he wants to have a serious relationship with me, that he feels the same way about me as I do about him. Then I won't have to tell him we can never have sex again.

  Another sigh leaves my chest. I've already made up my mind to do this, so why am I still hoping for a miracle?

  "You haven't fallen in love with Einstein, have you?" Ethan asks me.

  I jump because I wasn't expecting him to suddenly pop up beside me. Then I turn my head to give him a puzzled look.

  "What?"

  "You've been staring at that picture for more than ten minutes now," Ethan explains. "Sighing."

  So he's been watching me instead of looking at Einstein's stuff? I decide to tease him.

  "You're right. I have. I've had a crush on him since I was in the fifth grade."

  Let's see if that will make him jealous.

  Ethan touches his chin. "Really? I didn't peg you as someone who likes physics."

  "I don't," I tell him. "But I do think Einstein is kind of good-looking."

  At least, he is in this picture, before his hair turned white and he forgot how to use a comb.

  "With that mustache? Now I know you're kidding."

  I glance at the picture of Einstein. Oops. I forgot about that.

  I know. I know. I'm no genius.

  I frown. This plan of mine to make Ethan jealous isn't working at all.

  "You know what?" I tell him. "I think I've had enough of Einstein. Shall we go somewhere else?"

  "What's next on your list?"

  "Let's see." I take out the tablet from my purse. "Next stop: Rosengarten."

  According to the description, it's a spacious and peaceful garden with not just roses but also rhododendrons and azaleas. Sounds like a good place for a couple to get lost in. Or break up.

  Who knows? Maybe I'll be able to tell Ethan what I need to there.

  ~

  I haven't been able to. I can't.

  I've had a lot of opportunities to do it while walking around the gardens. There were several times I found myself alone with Ethan, times when there was nothing between us but silence. I should have spoken up then, but there was something about the silence and the solitude that made it harder for me to find my voice. Or my courage.

  Each time I'm about to open my mouth to speak, my doubts get in the way. My mind comes up with a myriad of questions, firing them away like a reporter on an ambush.

  Do you really want to do this now? Why not wait until you get back to the hotel? Or to Chicago? What will you do if Ethan walks away? Do you know how to get back to Zurich by yourself? What do you think Ethan will say? How will he feel? Don't you think it's unfair to do this to him now when he's trying to forget about a catastrophe at work? What if he doesn't accept it? What if he starts to hate you? What if he fires you and leaves you here in Switzerland?

  So yeah. There go my opportunities. Gone. Wasted.

  I can't talk to Ethan about it now. We're having a lovely meal at the idyllic restaurant in the middle of the Rosengarten. For now, I'm just going to relax and enjoy this food and this ambiance.

  And Ethan.

  "So, which do you like better? Zurich or Bern?" he asks me as he cuts into his slab of perfectly grilled Black Angus beef.

  I try a piece of my potato gnocchi and get a mouthful of delicate but scrumptious flavor. Seriously, I have yet to taste something that I don't care for on this trip.

  "Both," I answer before getting a whole spoonful of gnocchi. "They're different. Zurich is like elegant and refined, more modern. And Bern is charming and old-fashioned and serene. They're both beautiful."

  And both memorable. I can't very well choose between the two of them.

  Ethan nods. "I thought you'd say that."

  We spend the next few minutes eating in silence. I realize I'm hungry after having walked for hours. Ethan is voracious, which I suppose isn't surprising. He only ate two sandwiches last night, which was his first and last meal for the whole day, and then two more this morning, which he ate in the car because he wanted us to leave for Bern early.

  That's good. At least he's got his appetite back. Hopefully, the acquisition can get back on track, too. There's still time.

  But if it does, will I have the heart to ruin his good mood with bad news? On the contrary, if it doesn't, can I really add to his troubles?

  Wait a second. I'm not trying to cause Ethan more trouble. I'm trying to soften the consequences of the trouble that I have caused, trying to mitigate the effects of the mistake I made, just like Ryker said I should. Ethan should be relieved, grateful. Why, then, do I get the feeling he won't be?

  I shrug off my feelings and thoughts and gobble up another spoonful of gnocchi. Didn't I say I'd savor this experience? So why am I ruining it?

  I take a sip of water - I opted not to drink wine - and look around. I can see the gardens from here, and the rooftops of the Old Town, and the church tower, and the mountains in the distance hidden beneath a veil of clouds. I take all of them in with a deep breath and commit them to memory.

  I'm never going to forget these views.

  A breeze blows. It carries the smell of roses and sends the strands of hair that have come loose from my ponytail against my cheek. I close my eyes as I savor the sweet scent. When I open them, I find Ethan looking at me, a smile in his gaze. My heart skips a beat. I blush.

  "What?" I ask him as I tuck the loose strands behind my ear.

  "Nothing," he answers before looking away and taking a sip from his glass of his wine.

  But I've already seen that look. And something tells me it's not nothing. It's not just amusement. It's joy and warmth and... affection?

  Fresh hope springs in my chest. What if Ethan is actually in love with me?

  He said he's like Asher, but I know he's not. He wouldn't sleep with a woman unless he somehow cared about her, even if the woman in question is his assistant. Or is it especially if the woman in question is his assistant? What if that's why he didn't mind breaking the rules - because he loves me?

  Ryker said Ethan would never allow himself to feel anything for me, but what if he's wrong? Even brothers don't know each other completely.

  "What?" Ethan asks me.

  I realize I've been staring at him.

  I want to ask him if he feels anything for me, if there's a chance that what we have is more than just great sex. I'm dying to know. But again, my fear gets in the way. What if I'm just being presumptuous? What if Ethan says no? Then I'd be embarrassed, hurt. I'd have to end whatever this is between us right now.

  "Nothing," I give him the same answer he gave me.

  We go back to eating in silence, although this time it feels a little awkward. I wish Ethan would say something.

  The rumble of children's laughter breaks the silence. I turn my head and see a family of four occupying a nearby table. The two children - two young girls who seem just a year apart and look so alike they could almost pass off as twins - are both holding teddy bears, their other arms wrapped around each other. They're in their own world, laughing at a joke only the two of them know. Their mother tells them to be quiet as they sit down, but they continue to whisper and snicker.

  I can't help but smile. It must be good to have a sister.

  I notice Ethan looking at them, too. And smiling.

  "You like kids, don't you?" I ask him.

  "What makes you say that?" he asks me in turn.

  "You're fascinated by those girls. You were upset when you made a little boy cry. Also, I remember one time, Sasha brought her son with her to the office and you gave him a pen."

  Ethan shrugs. "Maybe I do. It doesn't mean I want to have them."

  My eyebrows furrow. "Why not?"

  "Because I'm not good with kids."

  I snort. "Don't tell me you came to that conclusion just because you made one boy cry. Sasha's son liked you, remember?"

  "Only because I gave him that pen. Before that, he looked terrified."

  Ethan can be scary when he's at work. But that doesn't mean he's bad with kids.

  Wait. Is that why he hasn't started a family?

  "Doesn't your father want you to have kids?" I ask him.

  "He does," Ethan admits. "But I don't. Not yet. I'm not ready."

  "Because you think you're not good with kids?"

  "Because I don't know the first thing about being a father," he confesses.

  The confession takes me by surprise. Ethan is scared that he might screw up fatherhood? This from the man who runs a billion-dollar company, who knows how to earn the respect of his peers, the trust of his allies, the admiration of his employees? Then again, I did realize last night that as confident as Ethan appears, he has some serious doubts about himself. Which I find stupid, really. How can he not believe in himself when he's so perfect?

  "Yes, you do," I tell him. "And for what it's worth, I think you'll make a great father, the kind any child would feel lucky and proud to have."

  Ethan's eyes widen slightly. For a moment, he says nothing. Then his lips curve into a smile. Like earlier, I see it illuminate his dark eyes.

  "I think you'll make a great mother, too."

  The compliment sets not just my cheeks but my chest on fire. Now, I'm the one speechless.

  I know what I want to say - that I wish I could be the mother of his children, that we could make a great parenting team. But I don't.

  "Thank you," I say simply.

  "You're welcome." He glances at the girls again. "Do you want to go to Bear Park after this? I think it's just nearby."

  I put on a smile. "Sure."

  ~

  After we go to the Bear Park, we take tours of the Kunstmuseum, the Paul Klee Center and the Bundeshaus. Then we head back to Zurich. I fall asleep in the car. When we arrive at the hotel, the sky is already dark.

  My last day in Switzerland is coming to an end, which means I'm running out of time.

  I have to speak to Ethan about what's going on with us - and more importantly, what's going to happen to us when we get back to Chicago.

  I have to.

  That's why I enter his room after making sure no one has seen me.

  It's clean now. The Scotch bottle and the glass are gone. The plate that the sandwiches were on, too. Housekeeping must have taken care of them.

  Even the couch looks clean, but I don't sit on it. I don't want to stand near the bed where Ethan's sitting, either. Or go to the balcony.

  Where do I go?

  "What's wrong?" Ethan asks as he takes off his shoes.

  I swallow the lump in my throat and part my lips. Still, no words come out. The voice inside my head starts to shout.

  Go on, Stella! You're out of time. Just ask him how he feels. Or just tell him what you want. Tell him something!

  I draw a deep breath. "Do you...?"

  I pause because I still lack courage. Ethan's eyebrows furrow as he waits for me to continue.

  "Do you want me to ask if there are any updates from Odermatt Corp.?" I ask.

  If the voice in my head belonged to a person, she would be slapping her forehead in exasperation right now. I feel like doing the same.

  What is wrong with me?

  "You mean if that employee has been found?" Ethan stands up and walks towards me. "Trust me. If that was the case, I would have already known."

  True. He'd be the first to know.

  "What, then?" I ask him. "Are you just going to give up? Are you - ?"

  Ethan's lips cut off the rest of my question. Then he pulls away and looks into my eyes.

  "Not yet," he says, his tone as serious as his gaze. "I don't want to think about that yet."

  Of course not. He must be tired from all that sightseeing.

  "I'm so - "

  "You know what I want right now?"

  He tucks the loose strands of my hair behind my ear and parks his hand beneath my jaw. He moves his thumb and it brushes against my lips. Heat stirs beneath my skin.

  Under the spell of Ethan's intense gaze, my lips part. I try to capture his thumb, but he drops his hand and steps back.

  "I want to take a shower right now," he says as he starts to remove his belt.

  Of course he does.

  He throws his belt on the bed and starts walking towards the bathroom. Then he stops and turns. His narrowed eyes meet mine as he extends his hand.

  "Would you like to join me?"

  My eyes grow wide. Ethan wants me... to take a shower with him?

  The voice in my head adamantly tells me to say no, but I can hear another voice whispering in the background.

  Go on. This could be your last chance to be with Ethan.

  True. If he doesn't have any feelings for me - and I promise I'll ask him before I leave this room - I'll have to end things with him. We'll go back to just being boss and employee. I'll never get to have sex with the man I love again. The only man I've loved in my life so far.

  If that's how things will end, I want to have sex with him one last time.

  I drop my purse, kick off my shoes and step forward to take Ethan's hand.

  "Sure."

  I'm in need of a shower anyway.

  He pulls me into the bathroom. It's bigger than mine, with a separate shower stall and bathtub. For a moment, my eyes wander to the tub as my imagination gives birth to a new fantasy - a bubble bath with Ethan. That bursts as Ethan lets go of my hand and starts to take off his shirt.

  Forget about fantasy. This right here is a dream come true.

  A part of me wants to stand still and watch Ethan strip, to enjoy the show, but a greater part wants to feel him instead of just look at him. And I can't do that if my clothes are still on.

  I push the straps of my denim jumper off my shoulders and push the dress down to my knees. After I step out of it, I look at Ethan and realize that he's down to his black boxers. He pulls them off, and when he straightens up, I see his thick cock. It's not yet hard but it's already massive. I swallow.

  Ethan puts his hand on his hip. "Like what you see?"

  "I..."

  Again, I'm at a loss for words. Ethan chuckles, then crosses his arms over his smooth chest.

  "Go on. I'll wait for you."

  I close my mouth and grab the hem of my pink turtleneck. I try to keep my embarrassment at bay as I peel it off.

  Strange. Taking my clothes off seems more uncomfortable than having Ethan undress me, which he's done each time we've had sex. Even more so because I can feel Ethan staring at me intently, watching my every move and relishing every inch of skin I reveal. My heart pounds in my chest. My cheeks catch fire and the heat spreads through my veins.

  I take my bra off next. This one has its clasp in front, so my breasts spring free as soon as I release it. I feel Ethan's eyes on them as I let the straps fall off my shoulders and even when I bend over to take off my underwear.

  After I step out of that last bit of clothing, I straighten up to find Ethan's gaze traveling over me from head to toe. It lingers on the triangle between my legs. I start to feel self-conscious, so I stretch my arms down to cover that area. Ethan chuckles.

  "Still shy, I see."

  He pulls my arm and I crash against him. My hands land on his chest. I trace his nipples and those toned muscles as we kiss. His hands wander down my back and squeeze my ass. Then they travel back up my spine, all the way to the nape of my neck and my scalp. His fingers find the garter holding my hair captive and pulls it away. The strands fall over my shoulders.

  Ethan runs his fingers through my hair as his tongue caresses mine. I wrap my arms around him so I can feel his body closer against mine. My swollen breasts collide with his hard chest. Something equally hard pokes my stomach.

  I try to wrap my fingers around it but Ethan grabs my wrist.

  "Shower, remember?"

  He leads me inside the stall and turns on the water. After adjusting the temperature, he pulls me right under the showerhead. He grips my shoulders as he captures my lips. Then he turns me around and starts to wash my hair.

  "Have you always had your hair long?" he asks.