Page 99 of The Sun and Her Star

“Apollo, your heart … it’s more precious to me than anything. I would rather die than hurt you.” He cups my shoulder and slides his warm, calloused hand down my arm. He presses his palm against mine and links our fingers.

“Please, let me prove it to you.” His mouth is only inches away from mine, and his breath floats over my face.

My toes curl.

I want him to kiss me so badly that my lips are tingling.

I have no defenses against Graham. Except for distance.

His eyes are on my mouth. He bites his lower lip and closes his eyes. His hand falls from my face, and he takes a step back.

He crosses his arms over his chest, and there’s a challenge in his eyes as he regards me.

“You love me. I love you. There’s nothing stopping us from being together.”

I groan, exasperated and just plain tired. I need to end this conversation before I lose my conviction. I know what’s right. I know what I need.

“I have someone in my life.” The words sound like a hollow protest. Even to my own ears.

His eyes narrow on me, and he shrugs. “Yeah. You need to take care of that. Quick like.”

With a quick squeeze of my fingers, he releases my hand, turns, and walks toward my front door with not so much as a backward glance.

“Call me when you’re ready,” he calls over his shoulder before he walks through the door and disappears. I stare after him and then stumble to my bedroom. I feel like a cashmere sweater after the spin cycle—wrung dry and ruined.

I collapse on my bed into a heap of exhausted confusion.

What the hell am I going to do?

All Or Nothing

Graham

I’m a very light sleeper. Whether it was sleeping with one eye open to stay one step ahead of my stepfather or listening out for my mother on the nights she was sicker than normal – I spent years unable to relax in my sleep.

Now that I can sleep without any interruptions, the slightest sounds still wake me up.

I squint at my buzzing phone. The clock reads 3:30 a.m. and a text from a number I don’t recognize pops up on my phone.

“Hey, it’s Apollo. Are you free this afternoon? I thought maybe we could meet up.”

I sit up and wipe the sleep from my eyes and make sure they’re not playing tricks on me.

My second and third read of the text tells me they’re not.

It’s been a week, and I was starting to feel uneasy that Apollo hadn’t called me. I kicked myself for pulling that stupid “call me” shit. I thought it would only take a couple of days.

That whole evening was one big failure.

When I arrived at the gala, I felt like I was striding toward my future. I had come prepared. I’d run six miles that afternoon and pushed myself to the edge of exhaustion with my workout afterward. I was dressed to kill, head to toe Tom Ford—thanks to Dave and the last-minute hookup. Graham S. Davis, Master of the Universe, was in full effect. I was going to walk up to her and tell her exactly how I felt and what I wanted. Then, I was going to throw her over my shoulder and carry her out of the room. I’d fight anyone who tried to stop me. Including her.

When I saw Apollo at that table, my swagger vanished. I had stopped dead in my tracks and just stared at her. She was seated with her back to me, but I would have recognized the proud set of her shoulders anywhere. Her long black hair spilled like a sumptuous silk rope from its ponytailed perch on the back of her head.

The long curve of her neck was exposed, and I could see that small beauty mark right behind her ear. Her shoulders were bare. The back of the chair hid the rest of her body from sight and gave her the appearance of being topless. I’d walked up to her table, ignoring the gasps of the people who looked up as I passed by. And then she turned around. I almost had a heart attack when I saw her face. She was simply breathtaking. Her cheeks had lost all of the roundness she had when I’d seen her last. And her already high cheekbones were even more prominent. She was wearing makeup, but not a lot. Save for lips. They were painted a bright red, as fat as fucking cherries and I imagined as sweet. Her soft, rounded cleavage was cupped by the black satin bodice of her dress. I forgot that I was a supposed plundering Viking who was coming to get his woman. I wanted to fall on my knees and beg her to love me again.

As annoying as her smarmy kiss-ass banker boyfriend was, his interruption broke my trance and saved me from embarrassing myself in a room full of people.

When I left, I was so fucking hard. I got into the back of my car and was tempted to ask my driver, John, to roll up the partition so I could jack off. But as soon as I got back into my car, he asked me how my mission went and where my girl was.

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