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Her voice held a bitter note. “I suppose you’re right. What’s sex when we have much bigger issues to worry about?”

“It’s not just about sex and you know it.”

She didn’t answer, but when he gripped the zipper at the back of her dress she didn’t stop him this time. She let him pull it down and brush the dress from her shoulders. Her skin was as soft as velvet under his palms. The air twirled around him like a ribbon when he planted a tender kiss on her shoulder. She smelled like flowers and spring, like life and love. Threading his fingers through the silky locks of her hair, he inhaled greedily. Before she changed her mind, he pushed the dress over her hips and let it pool at her feet. Her white, lacy underwear hugged her curves. With her sky-blue eyes and burgundy curls, she was a sight to behold.

Memories of Santiago flashed through his mind—the first time he’d taken her, the well-loved way she’d looked when she’d woken in his bed, the naked swimming in his pool, the picnic by the lake, cutting her air and making her come so hard she almost hated him for it.

“What are you thinking?” she whispered.

He forced a smile. “That you’re beautiful.”

When a sad expression transformed her face, he peeled off his pants and picked her up in his arms. For the first time in his life, he ran from the truth. He deflected by avoiding the subject, hiding behind action. She didn’t protest, but leaned her head against his chest in a gesture of defeat rather than affection.

“Does it feel good to hold so much power over someone’s body?” she asked in his neck.

Maybe he had physical power over her, but she had the upper hand. Katherine was the only woman he’d given power over his heart.

“You forget, krasavitsa, that I’m the one on my knees.”

He’d told her so more than once, and he’d keep on saying it as many times as she needed to hear it.

Lowering her onto the bed, he lay down beside her and covered them with the goose-down before pulling her close. When she rested her head on his chest, his heart thrummed with the small step they were moving forward. He took it another step further by arranging her thigh over his leg. He was so hard it was painful, but this wasn’t about him. He wasn’t going to take her yet, not after the day she’d had, even if her heartbeat increased against his ribs and her hip rubbed up against his side.

“Sleep,” he said, nuzzling her temple. “You need to rest.”

She blew out a shaky breath. “I’m scared to close my eyes.”

“You’re safe here.” He tightened his arms. “I won’t let anyone get to you.”

Pushing away, she sat up. “I’m sorry, Lann.” She wiped the curls from her face. “I can’t do this.”

He stared at her in confusion. “Do what?”

“Have sex.”

“We’re just going to get some much-needed sleep.” He hadn’t slept in more than twenty-four hours. She needed her rest too.

“In our underwear in the same bed?”

“I won’t do anything you don’t want. You know that.”

She looked away. “It’s not about that.”

Frustrated, he sat up too. “Then what the hell is this about?”

“You offered me a thirty-day contract. That time is over. When I told you I was expecting your baby, you didn’t offer me more than assistance to terminate my pregnancy.”

“What are you getting at, Katherine?” The exhaustion came through in his voice. Even his accent sounded heavier.

“If I’d gone through with the abortion, you would’ve taken me home to Santiago, and left me again.”

He would’ve left her to get on with her life, yes, to make something of it. He would’ve buried his selfish possessiveness deep in his soul and given her the gift of freedom. With him, she’d never have been safe, been a mother, had a family, or had a taste of normal life.

“Answer me,” she said.

“Yes,” he gritted out.

“I see.” She bit her lip and studied him for a while. “Then you’re here out of duty.”

He tugged a curl behind her ear. “I’m here because I want to be.” He knew what she needed to hear. It was too late to protect her from it. “I’m here because I love you.”

“Stop.” She shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”

That hurt. Again, he couldn’t blame her. Fuck that. If he had months, years, to prove his love, he’d do it. The fact was they had less than eight months. It wasn’t nearly enough. The air lifted, and hissed past his ear. She was doing it again. Moving him. Driving him mad.

He pushed her down and rolled over her, keeping his weight off her body.

She uttered a startled cry. “What are you doing?”

He’d convince her of his love. God knows, he needed hers. But for now, he’d take whatever he could get. “Will you accept another thirty-day contract?”


Tags: Charmaine Pauls Seven Forbidden Arts Fantasy