Elle’s eyes widen as her spine collides with solid wood, and I grip the edges of the shelf on either side of her head, irritation flooding my nervous system.
Goddamn. No one gets under my skin the way this woman does.
I drop my gaze to our shoes. She has those little block heels on again.
“Don’t.” It’s the only word I can manage, and I’m not even sure what I’m saying. I shouldn’t be this close at all. “Don’t go to him.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because I’m asking you not to.”
“You can’t do this,” she whispers, reaching up. Her palms flatten against my chest for a moment, as if she wants to push me away, but then they twist in the fabric of my sweater. “The hot-and-cold thing…telling me you can’t act on what I know we’re both feeling… If you can’t beinthis, I don’t want any part of it.”
“Since when?”
“Since I decided being an asshole wasn’t very progressive of me.”
I lift my chin. “After I sent you out of the forest.”
She nods. “I’m sorry for how I’ve been behaving. I guess I didn’t want to see your side of things, and it was selfish and rude of me. I don’t want to be the source of your suffering. Pushing your buttons is one thing, but if you really think they’d take your job…”
Swallowing, I move my arms inward and step closer, trapping her. “Is there someone else you’d rather spend such valuable resources on?”
“Ugh. See? What am I supposed to think here, Sutton?” She ducks, trying to escape, but I just move with her. “I’m trying to do the nice thing, but then you… God, you’re fucking exhausting.”
“It’s no picnic on my end, I assure you.”
“Then let me leave.”
“Ican’t.”
Her nostrils flare, and she lowers her eyes. “Someone will come back soon.”
That’s true, and I should release her based on that notion alone. Instead, I pinch her chin, tilting her head back until it hits the bookshelf and she’s forced to meet my gaze. The longer I stare into those warm irises, the deeper I fall into a cycle of uncontainable desire.
My restraint, no matter what I claim verbally, is wearing thin.
“Fuck it,” I mutter, shaking my head. If she wants to go back to Lexington, she can do so with my taste on her lips.
Inhaling that honey-vanilla scent of hers, I slink even closer until there’s barely room for a breath between us. My hand slides back, cupping her jaw as raw need pulses through me, denial like a dam breaking and giving way to weeks of longing.
She lets out a tiny noise, something that sounds an awful lot like desperation, and moves toward me, angling her mouth in preparation for mine.
Footsteps thud in the stairwell. Our breaths mingle, and a momentary lapse in sanity glues me in place, mere centimeters from her lips.
I sway, temptation clouding my judgment, but she blinks, and within seconds, she’s spinning out of my embrace and diving toward the journals on the floor.
I’m still standing where she left me, leaning against the bookshelf, when Quincy reappears in the doorway.
The older Anderson daughter glances between us but doesn’t say a word.
For that, at least while I try to get the beat of my heart under control, I’m grateful.
22
SUTTON
“Doyou think Mother or Father ever miss Bellamy?”
