But only for a moment before he’s using a tissue to wipe me between my thighs, then pulling my pants up.
Touching me.
Caring for me.
Goddammit, I’m already on the verge of crying. He needs to stop being—well,everything.
Everything good in the world.
Everything I don’t deserve yet.
“For convenience when I want a good place to bend you over in private,” Rhys murmurs.
He pulls me upright, twists me around, and wraps me in a hug.
It’s one of those tight, full-body hugs that makes me feel like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.
Like I’m safe.
Protected.
Shielded from the outside world and all of the bad it can bring.
“I want to ask the triplets to be the scandal that will take my father down and destroy him,” I whisper, the words tumbling out without filter because I need to dosomethingto be real, to pull myself back to who I am, to what I can and can’t offer a man.
“I know.”
“He tried to destroy my sister. He deserves—he deserves to pay.”
He squeezes me tighter. “Money can’t buy a soul. Even if you never destroy him—he’s not happy. He’s never been happy. But you can be.”
I shudder as my breath leaves me. “Why are you so wise?”
“Grief, life, trauma, and good genes. Plus my brain works better after lots of sex.”
I know he’s joking, but I don’t laugh.
Instead, I squeeze him tighter.
“O’Malley, where are you?” his radio squawks. “Got a situation in the spa.”
He sighs and releases me, unclipping his radio. “On my way,” he says.
He looks down at me in the dim light, and I swear he wants to say it too.
I love you.
Jesus.
I need to put a stop to this.
Otherwise—otherwise, I’m going to hurt him, because I can’t—I can’t be everything he deserves.
He hooks a hand behind my neck, kisses me hard on the forehead, and sighs. “Be careful. Consider quitting.”
“You too,” I say.
He double-checks his pants, which is good, because his fly’s down, and then he slips out the door.
