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Malcolm chuckles, and this time, it’s real. He’s actually amused. “No, Melody. We don’t. If they didn’t get the hint to leave, I’ll let my butler know to send them all away. Now…” He plants a kiss on the back of my neck and I shiver. “Do you want company for this bath?”
Anything to keep me from thinking of what tomorrow on the internet holds for me. “Yes, that sounds great.”
“Good. Because I’m not leaving your side.”
This time, it’s me who laughs genuinely. “Yeah, I kind of figured that. Can you start the water? My legs…”
“Say no more.” If I’m not mistaken, I can hear some smugness in his voice, knowing he’s incapacitated me like this. “I’ll go start it now. Rest, sweetheart.”
So I do, hovering on the edge of sleep while Malcolm runs the bath, never falling completely over into real slumber. Because I know if I do, the dreams will be all about the reporter trespassing his home, busting into the dining room, recording us without our consent…and of course, the way Malcolm nearly beat him to death afterward.
I don’t want those nightmares, not now, with the aftershocks of my orgasm still shooting through me. I want to enjoy the rest of the night, shutting out the rest of the world and pretending it’s just me and Malcolm here in the sanctuary of his estate. And that’s exactly what I plan on doing.
7
MALCOLM
Standing alone on the cold balcony, I let the chill seep into my bones.
Ever since that damned reporter leaked the connection between Melody and Adam, everything has changed. She's still here, physically, but it's as if a shadow has fallen over us—a shadow I can't seem to dispel.
I take a deep breath, my gaze drifting over the snow-covered landscape. This past week has been a whirlwind of emotions, and I can't help but feel that I'm losing my grasp on Melody.
She's here, but her laughter doesn't reach her eyes anymore. Her smiles are forced, her responses distant. I've found her with tears in her eyes on more than one occasion, and each time, it's like a knife twisting in my fucking gut.
My fingers graze the black velvet box that I've been carrying in my pocket.
Inside rests a solitaire 2-carat diamond ring—the one I had intended to propose to her with after the charity dinner. But that night turned into a catastrophe, and the ring has remained untouched, waiting for the right moment.
Well, tonight is the right moment. I'm tired of waiting, of tiptoeing around our feelings. Tonight, I plan to propose to her and claim her as mine. Adam, the public opinion, and anything else standing in our way be damned.
God, she means so much to me. I never thought I could feel like this, but here we are. She's turned my world upside down in the best way possible.
I'm possessive by nature, and with her, that instinct has only grown stronger. The thought of her with anyone else drives me to the brink of madness.
Inside the box lies a symbol of my commitment to her, a promise of forever. I pull it out, watching the light catch on the diamond. She’ll say yes. Of course, she will. She’s my Melody, my girl.
She might not have said the words yet, but she’s come close…I know she loves me. I have to keep that fact at the forefront of my mind before I lose control and tear this whole house around me.
Because I love her. Dammit, I do. And if she doesn’t love me, then fuck the world. Fuck everything. Even if she doesn’t, I’ll spend the rest of my life changing her mind. Melody won’t get rid of me that easily.
She and I need to get back to the way we were. I've planned a romantic evening in New York City, a few hours away from the mansion.
The top floor of an expensive hotel is ours for the night, and every detail has been meticulously arranged to sweep her off her feet.
Hours pass, and it’s time to go.
I meet Melody in the foyer. Our luggage is already loaded into my Audi, so it’s just her. No other distractions. She looks stunning in her little black dress, a vision that could stop any man in his tracks.
But there's something in her eyes, that damned distance that won’t leave.
The only time I feel like she’s truly with me anymore is when we’re fucking. Then, the mask slips, and she’s alive and whole in my arms. It’s heaven, but I need her like that all the time.
I need to pull her out of whatever it is that’s sucking her happiness. I don’t care what I have to do, but I will get it done. Anything for my girl.
We drive in silence, the tension thick. She fidgets with her clutch, her gaze often drifting out the window. My fingers tighten on the steering wheel, worry gnawing at me.
This night is important—a night I've been looking forward to as a chance to break through the barriers between us.
