Page 10 of Possessive Mafia Vows

“You waited till I’m closing the gallery to come and speak to me?”

He shrugs. “I almost didn’t come.”

I drag my eyes away from him and head through the gallery to my office, away from the windows and the prying eyes of anyone passing by. The butterflies inside my heart are back, the little traitors.Don’t make eye contact, I tell myself. If I don’t meet his eyes, I’ll be safe.

I pause in the middle of my office, suddenly hyper-aware of how much space Kyle consumes just standing there. He didn’t seem this tall the night we met. Probably because we were in a noisy crowded club where we had to lean in close to hear each other speak.

“I had a lot of time to think in Ireland,” he begins, filling the chasm between us and sucking me in.

Seriously, how am I so weak that I can’t even be alone in a room with him without my body reminding me of that night?

“I don’t expect you to forgive me for leaving you that night, Sienna. I can’t even begin to imagine how afraid you must’ve been when you realized that you were alone. I’d hate me too.” He sucks in a deep breath and exhales shakily.

He’s right about one thing: it’s the scariest fucking thing that has ever happened to me.

“I’ve never been able to let you go, Sienna.”

His eyes lock onto mine and, too late, I try to look away. But I’m already trapped.

“Call it obsession, or survivor guilt, or whatever. I know how I felt about losing you and I know what I want.”

I don’t speak. I’m transfixed listening to him, my heart drumming its own peculiar beat like it wrote this tune especially for Kyle. I’ll hear him out, it’s the least I can do, but he just doesn’t get it. The last six years were different for him than they were for me. He didn’t have to undergo numerous surgeries. Or lay awake at night wondering what kind of man could leave a woman to die alone on the highway. Or watch his physical scars morphing into something that he still couldn’t face showing anyone.

Our paths followed different trajectories after the car crash, like pieces of shrapnel from an explosion, and not even all the Murray money can bend them so that they meet again somewhere in the future.

“I want you, Sienna. I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you, and nothing will ever change that. Have you ever wondered why I didn’t ask your name that night?” he asks, and I chew my bottom lip and shake my head. “It might sound crazy, but I feltas if I already knew you. You could’ve been called Jane or Greer or Thomas?—”

“Thomas?” I smile. The chasm is gradually closing.

He smiles too. “It wouldn’t have mattered what you were called because you were already you. You were already the you I see in front of me now.”

I shake my head and sniff back tears. “I’m not the same person though. Too much has changed.”

“You’re right: too much has changed.” He shrugs. “But you know what, when I look at you, I seeyou, Sienna.”

He steps closer, and I’m rooted to the ground like a centuries-old tree.

“I see what’s inside. I see the sunrise over the Grand Canyon, the colors bursting to get out of you and onto canvas, and the fearlessness like a lioness in the wild.”

“A lioness?” My voice is barely there.

“A leoin.”

He reaches out, so slowly his hand might not be moving at all and touches the dip between my collarbones. His caress is kitten-soft, and my breath hitches in my chest.

“Please don’t…” I shake my head, but I don’t pull away.

There’s no air in the room. His oxygen is my oxygen. His heartbeat is my heartbeat; if his heart were to stop right now, so too would mine.

“Tell me you don’t want this.” His fingers tilt my chin so that I’m looking directly into his eyes. “Tell me to walk away and never come back, and I will.”

My heart is frantically trying to claw its way out of me. My pussy is clenching at his touch. But the fear is still there, like a lump of ice deep in the pit of my stomach, warning me not to trust him. He left me once before; he can do it again.

“Say it, Sienna. Tell me you don’t want this, and I promise that you’ll never hear from me again.”

“Never?”

Is that what I’m afraid of? That Kyle will be true to his word, and I’ll never be this close to him again? Why does the thought of never hearing him call meleoinagain feel like a spear poking holes in my chest?

---