“Our ways aren’t without complication, Novalee. You already know the answer to that.” He steps back, widening the space between us by three feet.
It’s symbolic—this distance that feels more insurmountable with each second the sky darkens, flicking through shades of blue like the color samples in my fashion arsenal. I can crumple up bad sketches and start anew without a second thought, never once giving up until I get the design right to the last minute detail.
But I can’t fix this.
The Brotherhood and its archaic laws and customs are outside my skill set. Even as chancellor, Liam holds a limited amount of power.
“I want it to be you,” I say, refusing to give up, no matter how futile.
“On the matter of your anal virginity, the choice isn’t yours. Vance already made the deal, and you belong to him for the month.”
“No.” Anger threatens to splash down my cheeks. “I belong to no one.”
“Are you sure about that?” He raises a brow, issuing a challenge. “From what you told me in the library, you made it clear you belong to Sebastian.”
“I don’t belong to him,” I say through gritted teeth.
“No?” He prowls closer, his body backing me into the railing. “Because you wanted my blessing to marry him not even an hour ago.”
“It doesn’t matter what I want. He doesn’t want me.”
Liam’s bitter laughter assaults the air. “You might feel differently if you knew what he gave up for your anal virginity.”
I open my mouth, but the words won’t come. What am I supposed to say to that? Am I supposed to pretend I’m not intrigued by the information he just dangled? I don’t want to keep doing this heart wrenching dance with him.
Neither of us will come out as the winner.
“I’m sorry,” I say in a choked whisper. “I should go.” I move to step past him, but he grabs my arm and pulls me against him. I don’t have time to prepare for his kiss. His lips are just there, forcing mine open, tongue claiming me straight to my soul. He pours everything into that kiss, all his frustration and heartache and love.
This man loves me. If I know nothing else from the time we’ve spent together tonight, tiptoeing around the landmines between us, I know that much is true.
If his family wants me dead, he doesn’t.
I break away as the tears fall, unable to hold them back any longer. “I can’t. Please, just let me go.”
Cradling my face, he shakes his head with a sad smile. “I’ll never let you go.” We stare at each other for several moments, the breeze stirring his sandalwood scent around me.
Before I seek his lips again, I dart through the open doors of the balcony, slipping my dress on as I make my escape, and leave the silhouette of a broken man standing against the backdrop of night.
Chapter Four
The House of Cancer is contemporary in design, unobstructed by barriers as warm seashell tile connects the open-concept living spaces. My heels click across the floor, echoing too loudly in my ears, and I try to soften my steps as I search for the doctor in the dim lighting.
“Hello?”
No answer, and that makes me nervous because he didn’t give me instructions on how I should greet him. I don’t know my way around his house yet either, having only visited my room before dinner to freshen up and change.
I pass the spotless kitchen and dining area before following the curve of the wall into the next space, white paint giving way to the slate gray stone fireplace that stands as the main focal point of the room, drawing the eye from floor to ceiling. The blinds are drawn on the windows, and I spot the brilliance of the first stars stealing the night sky.
“You’re just in time,” a breathless voice says.
I whirl to the left and find Vance sprawled on a wide chair facing the windows, blond hair undone and falling over his muscular shoulders. He shed his jacket and tie, and all sense of modesty since he’s stroking himself.
“Um…” I falter, gaping at the unabashed display in front of me, his strong fist pumping furiously between the open fly of his pants.
“Did you enjoy your time with the chancellor?”
I blink several times. “Y-yes.”
“Good. Now it’s my turn.” He gestures toward his erect cock. “Come straddle me.”
I’m frozen to the tile, unable to comprehend his commanding yet nonchalant tone. The two shouldn’t go together, but somehow the doctor blends them with perfection.
“You want me to…what?” Unable to take my eyes off the steady motion of his hand, I gulp.
“Does my cock intimidate you?”
My gaze snaps to his. “Should it?” I’m learning that answering a question with a question is a sound strategy with these men.
He runs his tongue over his lower lip, hips thrusting in time to the wet pumps of his hand. “It’s just flesh, Novalee. Same as that hot pussy between your legs.” His slitted gaze roams over my hardened nipples to my pressed-together knees.