Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Move.”
“Why, so you can run away again?”
“I wasn’t running away.” I still don’t meet his eyes.
“Bullshit.” His voice is quiet but commanding. “Why’d you run?”
I keep my head stubbornly turned and remain silent.
“What happened that day in Gordon Price’s office?” he asks. “I deserve to know that much, at least.”
“What did he tell you?” I ask, keeping my gaze fixed on the wall to my right.
“Not much. My meeting lasted about three minutes, most of which was spent with him glaring at me, and ended with him begrudgingly telling me that he was closing the investigation without formal charges.”
“Well then, see? All good.”
“No, damn it, Charlotte, not all good. Why did you do it? Why did you break the prenup? You actually think I’d want your money?”
“I never thought that,” I say, realizing he won’t relent until he gets his answers. “It wasn’t about the money. But it had to end. You’ve got to see that. We couldn’t keep doing what we were doing—married, but not really. I couldn’t …”
Remembering my mom’s reminder that running from my problems was no way to deal with them, I do the strong thing and lift my gaze to his.
“I filed for divorce because I want you to be happy, Colin. I wanted you to be free to marry someone you love, not be stuck in a technical marriage for one day longer than necessary. But I also did it for me. I couldn’t keep living with you, pretending to be your wife, when I knew you were counting the days to marry someone else. I thought I could survive it, but seeing that engagement ring on Rebecca’s finger, it all became too real, and—”
“I never bought her a ring.”
I blink rapidly through my tears, trying to comprehend this. “What? But I saw it. She came over and showed me.”
He lifts a shoulder. “She bought it for herself. Or borrowed it from a friend. I don't really know, but I didn’t buy her that ring, and I certainly did not put it on her finger. I didn’t even know what had happened until after you’d left for California.”
I stare at him. “Why would she do that?”
He hesitates. “If I had to guess, I’d say she thought it would get you out of the way, and I’d change my mind. She was half right.”
“Half right?” I ask.
“She did get you out of the way. You fled the state. I, however, did not change my mind.”
“About what?”
“About not being able to marry Rebecca.”
I gasp, but before I can comprehend this, Colin tosses the folder on the dresser and steps closer, his voice a low rasp. “Do you know, when you first moved in, I thought those little pajamas you wore would kill me?”
“You want to talk about my pajamas? Now?”
“Yes, actually I do,” he says softly. “I’ve seen women’s underwear with more material than your pajamas, and I thought nothing could be more torturous.”
Slowly he reaches out and roughly grabs a fistful of my T-shirt, pulling me closer. “I was wrong,” he says on a growl. “Seeing my clothes on you, seeing my wife prance around in my clothes, wanting—needing—to know what was under them. Hating that my clothes could touch her skin in a way I couldn’t … that was the real torture.”
The hand not gripping the shirt finds my waist, sliding around to my back.
Under the shirt.
His palm spreads low against my lower back, and we both exhale at the skin-to-skin contact. I close my eyes, terrified this is the world’s most wonderful dream and that my heart will break into a million pieces if I find out it’s not real.
“You’re really not marrying Rebecca?”
His forehead is still pressed to mine, and I feel him shake his head no, feel his breath near my lips.
“I’m a little confused,” I whisper.
“I get that,” he whispers back, as he gently pulls me all the way against him. “Maybe I can help make it clearer for you.”
Colin’s mouth lowers to mine, pausing for a fraction of a second, as though savoring the moment. The first brush of his lips is heaven. The second is ecstasy. The third feels a lot like forever.
And it seems to last forever, and yet not long enough.
“Clear enough for you?” he asks huskily when he pulls back.
“I think I’m starting to understand,” I say on a smile, going to my toes and leaning in for another kiss. He leans back, staying just out of reach, and I open my eyes, ready to protest his withholding of kisses.
My protest dies at the look on his face, one I’ve never seen before, both tender and sure, as though he’s looking at everything he’s ever wanted. Me.
He lifts a hand and brushes back the hair near my face. “I’m in love with you, Charlotte.”
Tears fill my eyes. “You are?”