Page 110 of Ruined Vows
He intrigues me, his banter stimulates me, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about what it would be like to be with him, under him, and on top of him.
I toss my clutch onto the velvet chaise, kick off my heels,and pace the room once. Twice. Then stop. His words haunt me.
This isn’t softness. It’s focus.
You’ve never had anyone show up for you without asking what it gets them.
And maybe that’s true. And maybe that’s the problem. Because it feels good to be seen and understood. I’m getting used to it, but I’m not sure how I feel about it. I cross the room and stop at the minibar. I pour myself a glass of water. My hands are steady, but I’m shaking inside.
He didn’t kiss me tonight. What does that mean?
He only touched me to help me get in and out of the car or place his hand low on my back as we walked the sidewalk so he could steer me around uneven pavement.
But he stripped me bare anyway.
How did he do that? It was so subtle…
A soft knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. I freeze, knowing it’s him.
“Bianca,” his voice calls—low, unreadable. “You left your wrap.”
I open the door just enough to take it, but he doesn’t hand it over immediately. He looks at me. And our gaze meets, and his eyes are filled with raw, unbridled emotion. It does something dangerous to me.
Like I’m not just beautiful—I’mreal.
“I’m not used to this,” I admit before I can stop myself.
His brow lifts. “To what?”
“To being seen. And not…measured.You scare me when you look at me like that.”
He steps forward just slightly.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Then we’re even.”
He doesn’t push for more, and he doesn’t try to walk in. He hands me the wrap, and his long fingers brush mine like a whisper. Then he turns and walks away. And he just broke me.
I stand in the doorway, holding a piece of fabric like proof that I’m losing this war and with it, myself.
He’s left me breathless. Not because he won. But because I don’t want to fight anymore. I want more of him. He’s made mewanthim. He made me want the very thing I swore I never believed I could obtain.
I lay awake. It was the perfect day, the perfect trip, the perfect dinner…and he’s a helluva man.
He’s all man. He’s testosterone, musk, and muscle, with a smirk I adore. His cold gray eyes warm when I walk into the room because he only has eyes for me.
I’m sure he’s received texts for work, but he’s given me all his attention when he’s with me—he’s present.
And it’s with that thought that I fall to sleep. The fact that he’s in the room next to mine both comforts and frustrates me.
I stretch beneath the softest sheets money can buy and stare at the ceiling like it has answers I haven’t been brave enough to say out loud.
I remember the way he looked at me last night. The way he didn’t touch me. The way hewalked away.
And now I’m lying here, wet, just thinking about him.
His deep voice strokes my ears—his strong jaw and his rough hand that brushed mine like a vow and a dare.
Why didn’t he take me?
