But a thought shivers through me. A whisper of warning that I can’t push aside.
She’s tricking you.
I pull away from the kiss, my brows furrowed. No, she wouldn’t do that, would she?
“Are you trying to seduce me, so I let my guard down?”
As I say the words, I feel foolish and paranoid.
But the look on her face tells me immediately I’m right, and disappointment snakes through me. The guilt in her eyes, the way she presses her lips together and licks them. How she turns her head away from me and takes a shaky breath.
I step back from her, my disappointment growing. My heart is beating fast as betrayal seeps into my bones. I can’t believe it.
Stefania shifts uneasily from one foot to the other. She lifts her hand to her mouth and traces her fingertips nervously over her lips. It’s fucking sexy, but thinking that makes me angrier.
She’s not sexy. She’s manipulating me.
She won’t even look at me.
“Lookat me, Stefania,” I demand.
She looks up. Her dark brown eyes are wide and washed with desire. Her cheeks are flushed, and her breathing is heavy, her chest heaving.
She’s turned on. Very turned on.
And I fucking want her.My cock throbs, aching for something I refuse to want.
I’m fighting an intense urge to reach out and touch her, to pull her back into my arms. I want to lift her onto the basin counter and push her legs apart. I want to wrap my hand around the back of her neck and hold her steady as I thrust into her.
Fuck.
Get control of yourself.For a moment, all I can do is close my eyes and count.
I glare at her, shaking my head slowly.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with, girl. You’re in over your head if you think you can seduce an experienced man like me. It won’t work. You have no effect on me!” I lie, snapping at her, angry and heated. Angry at myself for falling for it. Angry because I ammore than affected by her, and I hate it.
Angry because I’ve never felt a kiss like that before, and it wasn’t even real.
She stares at me in silence, biting down on her lower lip. I can’t look at her anymore. I can’t stop myself from wanting to kiss her again.
A low, agitated growl rumbles through my chest as I turn away from her and storm out of the bathroom.
I don’t dare look back in case it pulls me toward her again. Keep walking, Marlen.
I hate being lied to. I hate betrayals of any kind. Manipulation and dishonesty. If you hate me, hate me openly. If you want something from me, ask. The answer might not be in your favor, but that’s life. Never, ever try and trick me.
***
Over the next few days, my anger simmers. There is still a wariness in me toward her, a constant reminder to keep my guard up. But the problem is that Stefania has turned into a ghost in my home. She’s nowhere. The house is so quiet it’s as though I’m living alone again. I don’t hear her or see her. I don’t get to smell the delicacy of her scent as I walk past her or make coffee next to her.
She’s nowhere. Every time I walk past her room, I pause outside the closed door and listen.
And oddly, I find myself walking past her room far more often than I need to. It’s the closest I can get to her. I tell myself to leave this alone, that it’s better this way, but my subconscious movements pull me back here.
Sometimes I hear her moving around in there, sometimes I don’t. It’s clear, though, that she’s going out of her way to avoid me.
Why do I miss her so much?
