Jemma froze.
His voice had been casual, almost conversational.But there was something in the way he stood—solid, tall, determined—that made it clear this wasn’t a suggestion.
He was giving her a glimpse of the life he wanted.The life he was already planning.
The wind stirred her hair, but she barely felt it.
If she’d ever pictured her wedding—and she usually hadn’t—it had been small.Quiet.Maybe in a small church or quick and easy at a courthouse.Something simple and sweet.Something she could afford.
Never in her wildest dreams had she imaginedthis.
Not a garden bursting with color, kissed by sunlight, the kind of place where fairy tales were created.
“This isn’t fair,” she whispered, her voice breaking.Her hands trembled as she clasped them in front of her, trying to hold herself together.
Saif turned toward her, blocking the garden from view with the sheer breadth of his shoulders.His expression was softer now, but still intense.
“If you’ll recall,” he said gently, “I don’t play fair, Jemma.”
Then he reached out and cupped her cheek with the kind of tenderness that unraveled her resolve.His thumb brushed her skin, and without hesitation, he leaned down and kissed her.
There was no hesitation in him.No doubt.
She melted, her knees weakening as the heat of his lips and the scent of his cologne swirled around her.For one, long moment, she let herself fall into it.
Into him.
Because whether or not it was fair…this man was changing everything.
Chapter 30
Saif bit and nibbled gently on her lower lip until she finally opened for him with a soft, trembling gasp.The kiss deepened—hot, desperate, edged with the hunger of too many sleepless nights.He had her.Finally.Right here in his arms.Everything he’d longed for, imagined, craved—she was kissing him back with that same ferocity, like she needed this as badly as he did.
And damn, shehadto need this.
One arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand tangled in her hair, as if letting go would unravel him completely.The moment pulsed between them, thick with memory and heat.He couldn’t stop kissing her, even if he wanted to.He’d meant to say something persuasive, something logical.He was supposed to convince her to say yes—to his offer, to his house, to the life he wanted to build with her.
But her lips were soft and parted, her mouth tasted like cinnamon and hope, and all his carefully planned arguments scattered like dust.
The way she clung to him…
The way she pressed herself closer, like she couldn’t get enough of him…
It wrecked him.
For a full year, he'd been filled with anger—at her, at the world, at himself.When she left, he'd been furious.Not just because of the abandonment, but because he hadn’t understoodwhy.She’d walked away, and he’d been left in a whirlwind of confusion and pain.Now, with the truth between them, something inside him clicked into place.
The world made sense again.
But Jemma didn’t know that yet.She didn’t know how deep his feelings ran.She didn’t realize that this wasn’t just lust clawing its way to the surface—it was grief, hope, love, and everything in between, bleeding into his touch.
He needed her to see that.
He pulled his mouth from hers, breathing hard, his forehead resting against hers for a beat.“Tell me you want this,” he rasped, his voice raw as his lips trailed down her neck.He found the sensitive spot just below her ear—the place that had always made her melt—and nipped at it gently.
Her gasp turned into a moan.“Yes,” she breathed, her fingers digging into his shoulders as if to anchor herself.Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he staggered back a step, stunned by how right it felt to hold her like this again.
He caught himself, holding her tight, and carried her toward the stairs.
