He just hadn’t realized it until he’d seen that ring on her finger. Until she’d described herself ashis, his betrothed. Until she’d saved him, until she’d trusted him enough to come apart against his body.
With a sigh, he flopped back furiously against the pillows. Even now his cock throbbed painfully, reminding him of the constant torture of these last few days. It wasn’t just her scent, or the way she looked in the morning with that sleepy smile, or the obvious beauty that aroused him. It was the way she grinned in challenge as she learned to cheat, or the way she told a story with her hands as she made him laugh, or that silent look she gave him that was more comfort than he had ever known.
He wasn’t good enough for her, but he still wanted her.
He wanted—desperately wanted—tobegood enough for her.
Wanted to be the man who stood beside her, who bragged about her successes to every new introduction. He wanted to be the man she reached for in the night, the man who made her scream in pleasure?—
Groaning in surrender, Bull kicked his way out of the blankets and reached for his cock.
It wasn’t the first time he’d stroked himself while thinking about a woman, but this time it was different; he’d been in close quarters with that woman for days, and this was his first time alone.
All he had to do now was remember the way her breath had blossomed against his skin, remember the way she’d gripped him as she’d rocked against him, as if to keep herself anchored. Remembered the way she’d gasped and cried out as her cunny had flooded with molten desire…
Bull came with a quiet grunt, some of his tension easing with his release.
Had that been all he’d needed?
With a sigh, he rolled from the bed to clean up. Nay, that hadn’t been enough to satiate him, but perhaps…
Perhaps he’d be able to focus on the case now. Perhaps, after they’d explained what they were looking for to Georgia, and Demon had kicked him out…perhaps Bull could be satisfied, knowing his Rose had solved the case: had proven herself—not to him, but to herself.
Because he was going to be fooking proud of her, no matter what.
Bull flopped back down onto the mattress, feeling the days of stress and exhaustion finally—finally!—catching up with him. He closed his eyes on another sigh.
Tomorrow, he’d do his best to focus on solving his case. ForRose.
And that had to be good enough.
The next morning dawned cold and clear, the blue sky almost completely cloudless. Bull flicked his fingertipsagainst the glass as he stood at the window of the breakfast room, and had to admit the view was incredible. This was the kind of place Rose deserved.
Not a small set of rooms in smokey London.
“Good morning!” Rose’s eyes were bright as she hurried into the room. “Did you sleep well?”
How to respond? Bull shrugged, his gaze entirely captured by her breathless energy, even more beautiful than the snow-covered hills out the window. “I was…out of sorts.”
The grin she sent himmighthave looked a bit triumphant as she joined him by the window. “I was as well. What a beautiful morning.”
To his surprise, Rose reached up and pulled his never-still fingers away from the windowpane and twined her own fingers with them. They stood there for a long moment; she might have been looking at the view, but his attention was focused onher.
Finally, his woman took a deep breath. “Have you ever thought about what you would do if you did not run the detective agency?”
Bull’s brow puckered. “Ye mean, if I hadnae started it?”
“No.” She hesitated, and he saw her gaze dart around without looking at him. “I mean, if you started it, found your success…” Finally, she shifted to meet his eyes. “And then happily closed its doors, because all of your detectives had moved on with their lives and found their happiness. Found their place.”
Bull reared back, his eyes wide. “Ye mean…Marcia, Gabby and Hunter have all fallen in love and married?”
“And now it is just you.” She gave a little nod, then looked out the window once more. “If there was ever anything else you wanted to do with your life, Bull, now would be the time to do it. Branch out.”
Wasthere?
He’d spent more than a decade building the Lindsay Detective Group, gaining a reputation for honesty and trustworthiness which he had desperately earned; the thought of walking away from it…
Well, a year ago he would have laughed at the thought. But she was right; all of his friends—all of his detectives—had married and moved on with their lives. Would soon be popping out bairns. As each found their happiness, happiness Bull himself had helped facilitate, he’d taken fewer and fewer cases. His investments had long ago reached the point where he didn’tneedthe detective cases to support himself; he wasn’t a poor man. Just a man without a real place to belong.
