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Instead, I stop directly in front of her, admiring the way she has to tilt her head to look at me. It would take nothing to kiss her. To taste her denial and her ultimate defeat.
But I choose not to be her villain—for once—and walk around her, heading for the stairs.
I don’t ask her to follow me, I don’t encourage her to continue to speak to me, words fueled by whatever fear she has. I just walk away. And if she chooses to follow, it’ll be her own decision. Just like it was her decision to come here.
“Is it fun if someone gets hurt?” she calls out after me, speaking to my back as I maneuver through my big empty house.
I smile at her question, reaching the dining room before I stop at one of the large windows, drinking in the sight of the wilderness before me. Quietly, so quiet I wasn’t sure she followed me, she steps up beside me.
After a moment, I try for an answer to her question.
“I think the best kind of fun is where someone could get hurt. I don’t play it safe in business. Why would I start now?” I don’t look over at her until the last of my words are said and I watch as she digests what I say, her dark gaze still settled on the trees outside.
“Why me?” she asks and it guts me. It makes me wonder what happened to her to make her think she’s anything less than worthy of a man like me, pursuing her so passionately. But it also shows me just how hard it’ll be to get her to let go.
Unwilling to let go on my end, I just stare at her, admiring her profile. Her full lips, her high cheekbones, her melancholy gaze. The way her thick dark hair settles against her soft skin.
She sighs, giving in and glancing over at me. I drink in the vulnerability in her eyes, the way it enlarges them. The way itmakes me think I could actually pierce the hard exterior she’s spent so long creating.
Maybe no one worthy has come along. Maybe no one has ever tried.
But she’s going to learn, if she hasn’t already realized, I’m not like anyone else.
“No one looks at me the way you do.” Her soft murmur squeezes at my heart, causing it to stutter over its very steady beat.
“No one wants you the way I do. No one will want to infuriate you, accept your wrath, just to be around you.”
No one else will face your fury, just to get a taste.
Now that I’ve had a taste, I want more.
I want all of her.
“You don’t have to ask me why. You just need to tell me what to do to help you believe me,” I whisper, itching to touch her. To run my fingers through her hair and pull her against me.
Even just for a fuckinghug. God, she looks like she could use one.
“Are you okay?” I ask her, wanting to know what made her come here. Wanting to make sure the sadness in her eyes is something I can help ease.
“Nothing,” she answers, looking away, wrapping her arms around herself.
She does need a hug. And before I can think better of it, I step toward her, my arms outstretched. For a moment, she watches me, her eyes shining, her lips pressed together.
And in a moment of bravery, she lets me hold her for a few minutes before she leaves me standing alone in my dining room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
DON’T LOSE YOUR NERVE NOW
ELOISE
Bickeringwith Sophie has got to be one of the most energy-consuming tasks that have started to become an everyday occurrence.
I can’t escape her. She now lives on the property. I can’t hide from her. She’ll just show up at the bookstore, accusations in her eyes like daggers aimed at me.
How could I be so careless? How could I let things get so bad?
And now?
