I wasn’t allowed to say no, and I trembled so hard, it made my voice quaver. “Uh... if I don’t relapse before then.”
His lips were on mine again, softer this time, as if rewarding me.
In between kisses, he laid out the plans, how it would take four days to get it pulled together. It would be sooner, he explained, except he had to travel for business, and he couldn’t put it off any longer.
Four days.
That was how long I had until I put on a white dress and walked across the sand to become his wife. The thought filled me with panic rivaled only by the time I’d spent on the wrong side of the balcony railing.
What the fuck was happening to me?
41
LAUREL
Ryan produceda medium-sized box with a white ribbon and set it on the table where we’d just finished breakfast, although I’d hardly eaten. “Happy birthday.”
“What?”
“It’s your birthday today. Open it.”
I untied the ribbon and lifted the lid to expose the tissue paper inside. Beneath that, there were ballet slippers.Usedballet slippers. I pulled one out, confused.
“You dance professionally, but the doctor didn’t want you to go back to it too soon. Last time I gave these to you, you pushed it and made yourself sick.”
“I’m a ballet dancer?”
He nodded. “An amazing one. But you have to promise me you’ll take it easy.”
I put the shoe back in the box as I tried to find a way to be grateful, even though I hadn’t the faintest clue how to put it on. I gave him a polite smile. “Shouldn’t be a problem. Thanks.”
“There’s a room I didn’t show you on yesterday’s tour. Bring the box.”
It was a dance studio where one wall was all mirrors. It had hardwood floors, a balletbarre, and an upright piano in the corner. The room was beautiful, but the same feeling of nothingness possessed me as I set the box on the piano top.
“You don’t want to try them on?”
“Sure.” Because it was clear he wanted me to. I lifted the box’s lid, but he strode forward and grabbed my hands to stop me.
“You don’t have to.” He drew away hesitantly. “I don’t mean to push.”
“It’s fine.” Relief coasted through me. “I’ll try them on later. Thank you.”
“How about a kiss?”
My relief evaporated when he leaned in, and I held absolutely still as his lips grazed mine.
This was what I had written about in my journal last night. I didn’t dare put down on paper what I had been doing on the balcony, but it lingered in my thoughts, plaguing me. I wanted desperately to understand why I was so conflicted about this man.
Why I was filled with regret about the wedding I’d inadvertently suggested.
But when his lips were on mine and his hands on my body, I felt powerless. I let my arms fall to my sides when he pressed me against the mirrored wall, his mouth on mine, then hot on my neck.
I hated this feeling like I couldn’t get away, and it grew worse when he set his hand on the side of my thigh. It slid inward and began to creep up.
I couldn’t say no, but I had other words in my arsenal. “Ryan, wait.”
He lifted his head and gazed at me, a lustful one that set off every alarm in my damaged mind.
