“And what doyouwant?” she asked, leaning in even closer.
What did I want? Her. Always her. I was unabashedly selfish for her presence, greedy for her laughter, and utterly impatient for her love. Every moment spent away from her felt like an eternity, and the thought of not having her by my side drove me to the brink of madness. I wanted her lips on mine now, and not a moment later. But I wanted something more.
“I want ...” My hands moved almost instinctively, sliding around her waist and pulling her closer. “I want you to be my wife, Rosalie.”
“Then you should’ve shown up to your wedding on time. Someone once told me being punctual is a basic requirement for that sort of commitment ...”
I laughed, the sound bitter, just like her. She was ready to argue with me, like she always was. The woman fed off my words.
“You were really there?” I asked. “At the church. You were going to marry me?”
“Well, I needed an excuse to wear the dress.”
“So you would’ve married any man then, as long as you had an excuse to wear the dress.”
She didn’t want to admit she was ready to marry me. She didn’t want to admit she trusted me even though she’d tried her hardest not to. She didn’t want to love someone who’d been an enemy, but that was okay, because I didn’t want her love. I wanted something far more profound, and I was still determined to earn it.
Her eyes locked with mine. Her lips folded, trying to hide the truth I was so eager to hear. “It’s not just about the dress. It’s about the deal we made for my family’s safety?—”
“You were going to show up at that altar because, despite all your efforts, you feel something for me. You know damn well I’m not someone you need to fear. And come tomorrow, you’ll be my wife.”
“Don’t interrupt me?—”
“Oh, here we go.”
She rolled her eyes, annoyed. “I?—”
I kissed her before she could say anything else. For a moment, she stiffened with shock, then she melted in my arms like putty, her initial resistance dissolving like sugar in water.
She was driving me crazy. I couldn’t help it.
Her hands, which had been clenched in annoyance just seconds before, slowly found their way to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to her. The kiss deepened, growing more urgent. It was as ifshewere desperate formylips.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, holding onto me, scared I’d let go. I could feel her pulse racing under my fingertips as I traced the curve of her jaw.
As I deepened the kiss, she guided my hands back to her hips, holding her weight on my shoulders.
My hands slid upward, finding the delicate line of buttons running down the back of her dress. Slowly, I undid each one, savoring the way her body moved beneath the fabric. The dress loosened, and I gently slid it down, over her shoulders, letting it pool around her waist before I eased it further, down her hips, until it lay on the floor at our feet.
I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, feeling her warmth against me, the curve of her body fitting perfectly with mine. My mouth found the side of her neck, her collarbone, tracing down slowly, drinking her in.
With her wedding dress now forgotten on the floor, I lifted her, carrying her up to the bedroom. I laid her down carefully on the bed, trailing kisses along her skin, making her shiverbeneath me. Her fingers tangled in my hair again, urging me closer, her soft breaths breaking into whispers of my name.
I wanted her completely—mind, body, every inch of her.
When I pulled away, I noticed Rosalie’s lips were slightly swollen, and her cheeks were turning red. I’d thought about her lips maybe a thousand times today alone. One kiss from her wasn’t enough—I needed them all.
I couldn’t think straight anymore. My hand brushed her upper thigh. Her eyes were weapons of mass seduction, and they were one of my favorite things about her. I could barely wait to see them turn glossy.
“I want you to kiss me,” she murmured so softly I almost didn’t hear her.
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Show me where,” I demanded.
Her hands moved down her chest—all the way down. Without giving it more thought, I held her still by placing my hand on her stomach.
“Here,” she whispered.
My hands slid up her smooth thighs. “Your legs. Spread them.”
