“Because I can’tthinkwhen you’re nearly naked!”
“Good,” he growled.“Maybe if you stopped thinking and actually felt something, you’d realize I’m offering you a good deal.”
“Foryou!”she shouted.
“For both of us!”he roared back.“You could have everything you’ve ever wanted.I’mgenerous, Azlyn!”
Yes, he was.In bed, he’d been indulgent, passionate, attentive.She’d never doubted his physical generosity.And yes, he was wealthy beyond anything she could ever imagine.
But if she went with him, she’d hate herself for what she would become.
“Let me turn the situation around,” she said, her voice suddenly calm, even as fresh tears welled in her eyes.“Let’s say I askedyouto stay here.That all you had to do during the day was look perfect, wait in my apartment, and hope I’d come home to sleep with you.”
Zayn’s jaw clenched.He didn’t answer.
“Would you be happy with that?”she asked, gently but clearly.
His eyes shuttered slightly.“It wouldn’t be like that.”
“Wouldn’t it?”she pressed.“Are you in control of your schedule all the time?”
He hesitated.
“How often do you travel?”
“I travel often.I meet with other governments.Heads of state.”
“So…a lot.”She swallowed, steeling herself for the next question.“Would your mistress be invited to those meetings?Would she stand beside you while you discussed trade policy with the prime minister of the UK?”
The flicker in his eyes told her everything.
“I didn’t think so.”
She walked out of the bedroom.In the kitchen, she reached for the coffee grounds, her fingers trembling as she spooned coffee grounds into the filter.Some spilled onto the counter, but she didn’t stop.
When she looked up, he was there—on the other side of the breakfast bar.Watching her.
No longer angry.
“So that’s it?”he asked, his voice low and gravelly.
She pressed the button on the coffee maker and looked at him, hand still resting on the machine.
“I can’t be your mistress, Zayn,” she said softly.“And you won’t be mine.We both have jobs that demand everything.A long-distance relationship wouldn’t survive.”
Her voice cracked, but she continued.“I’d start to resent you.Then I’d hate you.And eventually,” she hiccupped, swiping at her tears, “I’d hate myself for letting it happen.”
She met his gaze through blurry eyes.
“You wouldn’t want that life, Zayn.So don’t ask me to accept it either.”
He moved forward, bracing both hands on the countertop, knuckles white.“This can’t be the end,” he growled.“There has to be a solution.”
“I’m open to suggestions,” she whispered.
They stared at each other across the space.Neither moved.Neither blinked.
Azlyn didn’t say a word.
