Page 88 of Beauty Beneath the Sorrow
“I–I,” I stutter. “I’m happy we’re together.”
He turns to me fully, cupping one side of my face. “There are no words for the way you make me feel. And even if I tried, I’d never be able to form them.”
I swallow hard.What the fuck is happening between us?
It’s just sex.
It’s just sex.
I remind myself over and over again. Nothing is happening. We’re having fun. Forbidden fun—but fun.It’s a lie.
Pushing that intimate comment aside, I smile up at him and bring my lips to his one more time. My body is burning and humming with desire from our passionate make out session in the elevator, but as soon as he opens the door, every ounce of air leaves my lungs.
I gasp. My hands fly to cover my mouth in shock.
The one-bedroom corner suite has floor-to-ceiling windows and a dreamy and picturesque view of the bright blue ocean. Calm waves roll in and out, changing the shades from white toaquamarine. Dragging my eyes across the room, I spot a bouquet of beautiful white roses. In silence, we take a few steps inside, and I spot another bouquet.
And another.
And another.
“Carter,” I yelp. The entire space is filled with oversized bouquets of white roses.
He smiles, pressing a gentle kiss on the side of my head. “White roses are your favorite, right?”
I twist to take in the vast number of flowers truly. “You did this for me?”
“Yes.”
“How?” My forehead knits together as I search his eyes. I’m not sure what I’m looking for. Clarity about us? Or a reason for this incredibly romantic and thoughtful gesture?How’d he pull this off so fast?
Then my thoughts take a hard right. They suddenly become guarded, wondering if he assumed I’d follow him back to his room for the night.Is that what he thinks of me?It can’t be.
“Remember when we first arrived, and I didn’t get into the elevator with everyone?” he begins to explain, lowering his warm hand to my lower back. “I met with the concierge.”
“They’re beautiful,” I whisper. We take a few more steps into the room in silence, and Carter closes the door behind us.
On the far table in the corner, there’s a bottle of champagne, two flute glasses, and a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries. This is the most romantic thing a guy has ever done for me. The sadness that accompanies that thought loudly hammers the insides of my eardrums. Most women my age have had countlessromantic gestures done for them, but not me. And the few times that something has come close have always come with the guarantee of me sleeping with them by the end of the night. I’m ashamed.
The scent of lavender cloaked me in warmth as we walked through the hallway, has now been replaced by the sweetness of my favorite flower. “I can’t believe you were able to pull this off so quickly.”
He smiles, wheeling his suitcase into the corner by the small kitchenette. “I wanted to do it for you.”
I hear his words, but I don’t register what he’s saying. Instead, my thoughts turn dark again, questioning his intentions.
“Did you do this so you’d get laid tonight?” I blurt out.
Carter unbuttons his shirt. “What?”
“Is that what all this is?” I wave my hand around the room. “Were you trying to make sure I’d sleep with you again?” I don’t know where this accusatory tone is coming from, but I feel the need to protect myself.
“This is how men treat women they’re in—” He stops himself and crosses his arms at his chest. “We’ve already slept together—multiple times.”
Was he going to say he’s in love with me? Oh god. My heart hammers. That’s not it. I’m sure that’s not what it was. “Why else would you do it?” I counter. “All these roses at the last minute could not have been cheap.”
“First of all, we’ve already fucked today. On the plane, remember?” He arches a brow. “That was only this afternoon. I am a guy, but I don’tneedto get my dick wet multiple times a day,” he states firmly, with his lips set in a hard line. “And secondof all, I did this because you’reyou.”
My limbs lock into place. I’m not sure if I understand him correctly. “What does that mean?”
