Page 70 of The Betrothal

Her body stuttered, her movements unsteady, I curled my fingers inside her and she came.

Her body spasmed over my fingers, her centre clenching, the sensation of her coming the final straw as heat pulsed low in my stomach, my breath stolen from my lungs as I came, her hand steadily pumping me through it.

She slowed, and I came back to myself, finding her watching me, her fingers releasing me carefully.

I stopped her hasty retreat, lowering my mouth to hers gently, the touch barrier well and truly broken. I could have sworn she melted in that moment, slowly kissing me back, until Seb broke the spell, teasing me away from her and stealing the kisses from my mouth, then hers.

“Yum,” he snickered.

Izzy giggled and I couldn’t help the smile stealing over my face, amazed to find that pressure I was avoiding, the surge of panic living in my blood today – it was entirely gone.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

ISABELLE

Iswear I could feel their hands on me all the time. They weren’t, obviously. In fact, in the two days since the workshop, it had been PG kisses and lusting glances, but for some reason Alex had sunk into a deeper mood and everyone was playing neutral.

If I hadn’t been leaving in the coming weeks, I’d have said his distaste for me was a significant problem for our relationships. But given that this was all going to be a distant memory in the next few weeks, I wasn’t going to address the elephant in the room. Or more appropriately, the raging bull.

Ben was more relaxed than he had been, and Seb watched me with a blend of desire and then awe. I could feel him observing every interaction Ben and I had, the show making him inconceivably happy. However, the same show made Alex angrier. I suspected that was the driver behind the careful distance Seb and Ben maintained.

Although, thinking about it, if I was leaving, and I was, I wanted to live out my Isabelle-sandwich-fantasy as much as possible in the weeks – I hoped – I had left.

I toyed with the paper in my fingers. Three weeks, Christian had said. That was this weekend – tomorrow. Not that weekends and weekdays bore any influence on my routine. The reminder of which chilled me every time I considered it.

A huge crash from downstairs distracted me from the frankly quite painful thoughts. Raised voices followed. Three of them.

“Alex!” a voice was calling, no doubt after the pounding footsteps I could hear ascending the stairs. “Stop!”

More thundering footsteps followed until they halted at my door, but only for a moment, before it swung in with ridiculous force and slammed against the wall. I grimaced at the dent it would have left in the plaster.

“Isabelle.” Alex strode into the room.

“Alex,” I replied as Seb entered the room behind him, Ben was a shadow remaining out in the hallway.

Alex’s chest heaved, but where his body language screamed fury, his expression was something else. His lips pulled downward and he looked at me with slitted eyes, puzzling, searching for something in me that he hadn’t seen before.

“You seem upset?” I asked, remaining seated in the bay under the warmth of the winter sun. Between that and the radiator beside me this was the snuggest spot I had found, beside the sofa in front of the fire.

As if remembering himself, Alex wiped any hints of humanity from his face, returning to the Alex I was more familiar with – cold and unreadable.

“Anything to confess?” he snarled.

The tension coiled in his shoulders and jaw, his demeanour shrouded in fury. Although, I could see that despite the way he was speaking to me, he was still holding something back.

I’d hate to see him fully lose it.

I gave him my blankest stare. He’d decided on airing his concerns like a prosecuting barrister – he wasn’t leading me anywhere.

“Let me give you a little hint. I’ve had a call from the police, again.” He looked expectant now.

“And?” I bit back the sarcasm and the temptation of giving my most saccharine smile, just to torment him. He had confirmed exactly what this was about, but he’d have to say it.

Seb shifted his body between Alex and my window seat, offering me an apologetic smile. I simply frowned, shaking my head. This was nothing to do with him, he didn’t need to look so guilty.

“You said office. Not the office.” He stomped closer but Seb shifted to intercept.

“What office? Did something happen in the office?” Ben had stepped into view, framed by the doorway. While he was evidently worried for his brother, he spoke to me.