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I haven’t denied nor agreed to her request.
The longer she’s here, away from the man who’s been her entire support system, who’s loved her and cared for her every day of her life, knowing he is now in jeopardy, the more restless she becomes.
Even reading more of the journals hasn’t distracted her.
It’s a feeling I don’t understand and can’t empathize with, not when my own father was a monster and I never had anyone I needed that much. Only three people have ever mattered to me, and that weakness came back to cause the greatest pain in my life.
But she needs it.
And it isn’t something I can replace or a longing I can ease. No amount of bribery with pretty, frilly things, wonderful food, and access to the knowledge the library holds is going to be enough to keep Callista Fox happy.
It just isn’t.
I push my plate away and motion for her to come to me with two fingers.
After so many days of ensuring we’re only intimate in the library or the bedroom, where the cameras aren’t running, asking this of her makes her bristle. She freezes for a moment, her eyes narrowing on me, like she’s trying to figure out what I’m up to.
“Come, Callista.”
Tonight, I had the foresight to turn off the dining room camera when I decided to join her for the meal, anticipating there may be a moment like this when I might need the privacy to get my point across to the feisty blonde on the other end of the long table.
She releases a little resigned sigh, then slides from her chair and makes her way over to me in the pretty sundress I gifted her yesterday. The pale-blue sets off her buttermilk skin and blond hair flawlessly, and the green of her eyes seems to shimmer and pop as she advances.
My cock is half hard before she even reaches me.
I grunt and shift it away from the zipper of my jeans, then shift my chair back from the table to give her space.
She slides onto my lap, looping her arms around my neck. But even though we’re physically close, I can still feel that chasm opening wider between us. It makes me want to drag her onto this table and fuck her until she understands that she’s mine, and that includes protecting her when she asks for something that could hurt her.
It takes every ounce of restraint I possess not to do just that as she spears her fingers through my hair, playing with it absently, like she does when she’s thinking about something or lost in her own head.
I tighten my arms around her. “I know what’s bothering you, Beauty.”
Her eyes shift to meet mine. “You haven’t answered my question about going to see my father.”
Slowly, I trail my hand up her bare thigh. “I know I haven’t.”
Those perfect lips of hers twist into a frown. “Why not?”
I press a kiss to her temple. “Because I don’t know if it’s safe for you to go or not.”
And I’m terrified you won’t come back.
Equally worrying prospects. Yet it’s the second one, the one I don’t voice, that keeps me awake at nights when I should be sound asleep, reveling in the feel of her naked body pressed against my skin.
But it’s truly horrifying.
Worse than any nightmare brought on by my curse.
Ever since she asked to go see her father, all I can think about is watching her drive away down the mountain and never seeing her again, wondering how I could bear that, how I could live with this place being so empty.
Missing her scent, her laughter, the brightness she brings to a once-gloomy place, the peace she gives me every time I take her in my arms and lose myself in her body. I must be mad because I’d even miss the way she always challenges me and forces me to look at things in a different light, to wonder if there are ways to change the facts I always took as undeniable and unchangeable.
What if I let her go and lose all that?
I haul her up closer.
She snuggles in deep, tucking her head under my chin, that honey scent of hers invading my lungs. “Tell me what’s wrong, Weston. Explain why you won’t let me go.”
