He wanted to be the source of that happiness.
And yet, at the same time, he couldn’t bear the idea.
Because... Because of everything.
He thanked the designer, and so did Lyssia, and when the door had closed and the woman had left, Lyssia came into the kitchen and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body to him and kissing him. He held her lightly. It was strange, these casual moments of affection. He was accustomed to the wild and untamed need between them. Sort of.
But this... The way she touched him. The way she would kiss him, just to kiss him.
It was all beyond him.
“I’m looking forward to the wedding,” she said. “Everything is coming together.”
“Have your invitations gone out?”
“Yes. My father has graciously chartered a plane to bring my friends over.”
“Friends from university?”
“Yes. Obviously I’m bragging because I’m marrying a very sexy billionaire. Who can blame me?”
He did not have a plane full of friends to bring. He had business associates. People he had made connections with.
“Well, I’m very glad for you.”
“Am I not your trophy wife, Dario? Much younger... Etcetera. Etcetera.”
“You are not that much younger than me.”
“Yes, I am,” she said, grinning. “In fact, that’s one reason he felt as if you had to rush to marry me. The scandal of it all. But surely on some level it must appeal to your male ego.”
“My ego is just fine.”
That much was true. He was not a man given to insecurity. That had been a luxury he could never quite afford.
She laughed and moved away from him. He wanted to have sex with her. Because she had kissed him like that. Because turning it into sex made it feel more manageable. Because turning it into sex made it feel like something more than just casual affection. And for some reason casual affection felt... Impossible.
But she was moving about like a whirlwind, collecting her things.
“I have to go down to one of my showrooms. There is an issue with some supply that we got, and I have to look into it. Thank God it’s a limited collection and not something we’re manufacturing for you or my father. I don’t need new disasters on that large of a scale.”
“You cannot stay?”
He heard the need in his own voice and he despised himself for it.
“No,” she said. “I can’t stay. I have work to do. I’m sure you do too.”
He growled, and moved closer to her, taking her hand and pressing it to the front of his slacks. Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh, my. Well. I’m sure that will keep for me.”
“I want you,” he said.
“And I want you,” she said. “Always. But I have a work emergency.”
And for the first time in his life, Dario found himself abandoned, aroused, by a woman.
He was proud of her too. For her resolve. For the new strides she was making in her career, even while managing all of this.
But she’d left him with nothing more than the impression of her soft lips against his, and an aching need for more.