Do I want this marriage tonottake place because of this powerful pull I have toward him? Even if it means losing this assignment which was supposed to cement my place as a premier wedding planner in London?Would I really give that up to be with him? And after working so hard to build my business to this stage?
"I know enough." He takes a step forward. "I know you’re strong, ambitious, intelligent, and so bloody beautiful, my heart aches every time I look at you."
He moves toward me, and I plaster my back against the door.
"Stop." I mean for the word to sound strident, but it come out in a whisper.
He instantly comes to a halt. And I’m disappointed. And that’s strange. He’s doing what I asked him to, after all.
"I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention. But over the times we’ve met… The chemistry between us—" He runs his fingers through his hair. "It’s taken me by surprise. It’s not what I planned for, at all."
"That makes two of us," I say with a self-deprecating laugh.
"It’s why I had to see you tonight. I admit, I asked you to come under the guise of discussing the upcoming marriage. But it was also so I could see you and confirm for myself whether it was my imagination or if, indeed, the connection between us was so...enthralling."
"Oh—" I swallow. I’m not sure what to make of the fact he’s being so upfront about this electricity that seems to crackle between us. It’s an awareness. A focus. This need to be in his presence. This need to look into his eyes as his grow dark with longing.
"Tell me again to stop, and I will."
As if to illustrate his point, he takes a few steps back. The heat from his body recedes, and I’m already lost without it.
I should leave.Even if he did call Lila to tell her the marriage is off, I still feel horrible. I’m the cause of her fiancé breaking up with her. And even if it's what I might secretly want, all of this makes me feel like a heel.
What’s worse? All of this is happening because I can’t control the reactions of my body around him.
"I really should go." I turn and place my fingers on the handle again. And I want to turn it. I do. But I can’t. My arm feels too heavy for my body. My stomach feels like I’ve swallowed an anchor. But my pussy and my clit—oh god… They’re wet with anticipation, with need. Tears drum the backs of my eyes. I push my forehead into the door, which feels cool against my skin. I’m a hussy. A coward. A slut…Oh god. Why am I still here?Why am I not tearing open the door and rushing out?
"Shh." He rubs slow circles against my back, and only then, do I realize I’m crying. Silent tears squeeze out from the corners of my eyes. "It’s okay baby, I know this is difficult. I know this is not how either of us intended it to be. But I promise, it’s going to be okay."
For the kind of alphahole I had him pegged to be, his words are a shock. I never expected him to be this understanding, this empathetic… That he’d realize how difficult this is for me. It’s that which makes me turn and look up at him through tear-filled eyes.
"Thank you," I swallow around the ball of emotion in my throat. "This… Weeping is very unlike me."
"You can let go when you’re with me. I won’t judge." He cups my cheek. "You can be yourself around me. You can give yourself up to me, and I won’t betray your trust."
Whoa, that’s huge.And once again, he’s surprised me. Enough for my tears to stop. "I don’t understand you." I shake my head. "How can you be so dominating one moment and the next, so tender, so caring. It’s not fair. You’re making this so very difficult."
"If you mean, it’s what’s preventing you from walking away from me, then I’m glad." He smiles and, this time, it reaches his eyes and—OMG!—it melts the ice I’ve held so closely around my heart.
"This is moving too quickly for me," I manage to stutter. My throat feels raw, like I’ve been crying for hours, instead of just a few seconds. My chest feels sore, like I’ve been kicked there. And my pussy—? It’s clenching in anticipation. It’s as if my body knows what’s going to happen before the rest of me does.
A shadow moves across his features. "I don’t mean to come across as coercing you, at all." He begins to lower his hand, and I catch it.
"That’s not what I meant." I glance down at my fingers clenched around his, slim and pale against his thicker, stronger ones. My painted nails against his unvarnished ones. The difference is stark. And erotic. He looks down at our joined hands. Then, as if unable to stop himself, he brings my knuckles to his mouth and kisses them.
A tremor spirals out from the point of contact and arrows straight to my core.
"This is wrong," I whisper.
"I’m not saying it’s not in the grey area, but I called her and told her I can’t go through with the wedding. You know in your heart, I would not have made a good husband for her. You know—" He notches the forefinger of his free hand under my chin, so I have to raise my gaze to his. "You know,this, between us, is right. That it has been inevitable since the day we met. And I can’t wait any longer, Isla. I can’t."
6
Isla
He’s right. I know it. I can’t deny it. And when he growls, "Fuck it," and lowers his head to mine, I give in completely.
Is it so wrong for me to indulge my innermost forbidden desires? He broke things off with Lila, he's here, and he wants me.Me.And I can't deny, Ireallywant him too. My resistance melts away.
