Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
And I’m agitated enough about the corner my father has shoved me into, that I don’t really give two fucks right now. “You are clearly not in the same headspace as me, Bella. I thought you were better at reading me than this.” I lean in closer to her. “If you were in the same headspace as me, I’m certain you’d understand the meaning. If you still do not, I’m willing to do whatever is necessary to help you understand. When we’re alone.”
The heat of anger in her stare is replaced by the heat of understanding. “You were talking about—”
“Yes,” I say because her eyes say it all. Her mind is in the bedroom, where mine hasn’t left since I touched her. “I was,” I add.
“Oh,” she says, her cheeks flushing a warm pink.
My lips curve. “Yes, oh.”
Her eyes meet mine. “I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Nothing. Not here. Not now.” The implication is that we will talk about it later and I do believe that’s what has to happen.
She scrapes her teeth on her bottom lip and turns away. I linger a moment, watching her, noting the slight tremble of her bottom lip that speaks of vulnerability and emotion. The best thing I could ever do with Bella is treat her like one of the other women in my life. To demand terms and a written agreement. I ask myself right now why I haven’t considered this option.
The answer is simple. She isn’t one of those other women, in every possible way. She isn’t after my money or my power or even my family name. Even Allison had some of that in her, thus how she ended up with my father. Bella would hate me if I treated her as if she had one of those agendas. I’d deserve that hate, too, because I know better. And I don’t want her to hate me.
Her hate is inevitable though, I realize. The minute I make the world aware of my fake fiancée, whoever she may be, Bella is lost to me. I rotate to face the front of the car and ask myself why that bothers me when it should be a relief. It will be life as usual, at least for me and Bella. She’d get over what amounts to a brief flirtation gone too far. We can get back to business. But it does bother me. Of this, there is no question.
Chapter Thirty
Bella
Be careful with Tyler.
The driver pulls us in front of the airport terminal and Dash’s words are on replay in my head. I’m not exactly doing a fine job of heeding his warning, either. I challenged Tyler about creating a chaperoned environment for the trip and did so while he was in my bedroom. If that didn’t say, get me naked and lie on the bed with me, I don’t know what did. And that was not what I was thinking. Mostly. I thought about it, of course, I did but I was also thinking—this is awkward. We are so awkward, and I don’t like how it feels. We will never be the same
I knew we were forbidden. As Tyler said, I knew there were consequences.
And what did I do? Moan, sigh, and orgasm, right there in his office.
All that aside, his reply when I asked him if everything was okay after he’d ended his call is driving me crazy.
That depends on you, Bella.
What the heck does that even mean?
Obviously, he’d been speaking on a personal level. He’d made that clear, but even so, he’s still allowed for interpretation, and broadly, at that.
For instance: things are okay if I choose to sleep with him?
Or perhaps: things are not okay right now at all, because I can’t control the obvious “hot for him” vibes I’m throwing his direction.
That second thought is jolting, and rather nauseating, too.
So much so that when Tyler opens his door on the sidewalk side of the airport, I’m not about to follow him to exit. I reach for my own door and pop the lock to crack the door. Tyler shocks me by catching my arm. “What are you doing? You’re going to get hit by a car.”
The only thing I’m doing right now is burning alive with his touch. “I’m fine,” I say.
His eyes narrow on me and he says, “Don’t run, Bella.”
“I thought that’s exactly what you suggested I do?”
“But I knew you wouldn’t. Don’t start now. Shut the door.”
But he knew I wouldn’t?
I’ve never been more confused in my life, but I do as he suggests, because exiting into traffic isn’t exactly smart. I shut the door. Tyler studies me a moment, almost as if he’s gauging my commitment to leaving my door shut, seconds ticking by before his hand slides away from my arm. How insane it is that I wish he’d held onto me? What is going on with me and this man?