One minute I want her to be my damn wife, and the next I’m ready to walk out before she gets the chance to hurt me. It’s a war raging inside my chest with need fighting logic and heart against reason, and I don’t know which side is winning anymore.
“Soren,” she greets when she reaches me.
“Cressida.” She flinches at the use of her name. “You look lovely,” I tell her.
Her gaze pans over me, and she smiles. “Thank you, as do you.” She nods.
Small talk.
Yep, we can do that.
“Though…”
“What? Is my dress too short?” She fidgets with the bottom of it, then tugs it down.
“It would look better on my floor.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “That’snotgoing to happen.”
“Yeah, I know,” I mumble, undoing the top button of my shirt. It’s suddenly getting stiflingly hot in here. “Dance?” I ask her, unable to resist the urge to have my hands on her. She seems nervous by the idea but offers me her hand. The minute my hand clasps around hers, something feels right again. Like that’s how it’s meant to be, I walk her a few steps to the makeshift dance floor and pull her in close. She smells so fucking divine it’s taking everything in me to not lean down and taste her.
“Look, about our discussion earlier—” Her hands fall to my chest.
“Let me fucking kiss you,” I blurt out, cutting her off.
“Soren, we agreed.” She steps back, and I let her.
“Youagreed. I agreed to nothing.”
“I’ve decided to date again,” she announces.
“Good. When should I pick you up?”
“I’mnotdating you.” She huffs in exasperation.
“Well, I guess all your other dates will have broken limbs and have to cancel until you’re available for me.”
“Gosh, you are so annoying.” She groans and shakes her head. “Actually, I have a question for you, and it’s been playing on my mind for a while.”
“Shoot,” I tell her.
“I want you to be truthful with me.”
“Okay.”
She comes so close I could lean down and kiss those succulent lips. And I really want to.
“You appeared every time I was using my vibrator.” I remain perfectly still and silent. “How and why?”
“Magic.” I wink, and her baby-blue eyes narrow at me.
“How?” she pushes.
Sighing, I admit, “I slipped a listening device into your purse.”
She considers this for a moment, then says, “Thank you for being truthful.”
“You’re welcome,” I reply.
