God, how I want him. Inallthe ways.
Ways I wouldn’t have realised if not for him and his surprising twist.
Andthat’swhy I’m angry.
Because before, everything made sense. I wanted a child with a man I thought I knew. And he agreed.
But he agreed onhisterms. And those terms have opened up an avalanche of feelings I never expected, not in a million years, and now I can’t hold them back.
There’s no holding them back.
Which is why we need rules, and why I need to claw back what scrap of control I have left to get it sorted.
And so I keep one step ahead as we walk, breathe in the soothing scent of the earth, the herbs, the flowers, the sea… I concentrate on every tangible thing I can get a hold of that isn’t him, until my pulse no longer races from his continued touch against my back. Until my thoughts become rational and clear.
Wewilltalk.
Wewilldraw up a plan.
And wewillpress reset on this whole baby-making scheme that was supposed to be mine but somehow became more about him.
His needs. His desire. His control.
And now you’re kidding yourself, because you willingly made it about him.
Him and your unleashed desire.
Damm it all.
My head is so right, and my heart needs to do one.
Preferablybeforewe get to my room.
The villa is quiet and softly lit, the stone walls echoing with our footsteps as we enter. A member of Sterling’s staff appears to assist us but I dismiss her with a smile and a shake of the head.
We make our way up the sweeping staircase to the gallery landing above, branching off to the left where my two-bedroom suite awaits. An exact replica of Axel’s, only twice as big: babysitter privileges.
Before I can reach the heavy oak door, he’s already leaning past me and shoving it open. The heat of his body, the scent of his cologne: temptation personified. And I have to force myself to step past him and mutter my thanks.
I don’t pause as I head straight for the bathroom that joins the two rooms. Lottie may not appreciate freshening up before bed, but I sure need it.
‘Do you want to make yourself at home while I get her settled?’
At home?My subconscious rolls her eyes at me. You might as well ask him to get naked and hop on the bed!
And that’snotwhat I meant.
Axel
If I saidno, I wonder if she’d stop running. Because that’s what she’s doing. Even now, with me in her suite, she’s running.Using the kid as cover, ducking into the bathroom without so much as a backward glance.
But then what would I do? Follow her in and help put Lottie to bed? Yeah. Sure. Like I’d know where to start.
So I stay put, drag my gaze off the bathroom door clicking shut, and suck in a breath meant to steady me. But all it does is give me more of her.
Her scent, too damn addictive.
And though the space is identical to mine – stone walls, warm wood furnishings, an iron chandelier hanging low, arched glass doors leading out onto a private veranda – it feels different.
