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They now stood in the center of the cabin with their bags on the ground, fire already roaring, and both of them staring at each other.
“Does it scare you that I said I love you?” he asked, not sure how she would react to him mentioning it again. She hadn’t said anything about it on the ride up here, and a part of him worried about that.
She didn’t answer right away, and instead moved over to the fire. For several seconds, she watched the flames move along the logs, the gown she wore seeming almost black in color because of the shadows. Finally, she turned and faced him. “No, it doesn’t scare me, Elijah, because I am falling in love with you.”
His heart started beating fast and hard, and all he wanted to do was be with her in every fucking way conceivable. This entire situation was confusing, he admitted that, but Elijah wasn’t going to turn his back on how he felt or what he wanted with Freya.
He could see them together, her by his side, and he wanted that desperately. The intensity with which he wanted this woman scared him the most.
Elijah was done being alone, done with the random women who couldn’t fill the void in his heart. Maybe a part of him had separated when he left Meghan, a part that didn’t think he could ever be happy. The truth was, his ex-wife hadn’t made him feel this kind of pleasure deep in his soul the way Freya did. She was everything to him. He knew that with every part of him, and he was going to make sure she knew that, too.“Come here, Freya.” His voice was low, hoarse, and there was a touch of dominance in it.
He might have been a kind of stepparent—sort of—to her all those years ago, but really, she never saw him as that. He’d lived in the house she did, ate breakfast at the same table she did, but she didn’t see him as this parental figure. Maybe a part of her would have liked to, but only because she’d been missing her own dad so much. But even if at some point, at some level, she kind of felt as if this was wrong, a little taboo, and most definitely tested given their background, she couldn’t lie and say that she hadn’t always felt safe around Elijah.
But after they’d left the event, she’d just leaned against him, let him hold her, and it had felt so right. Being with him felt right. Freya didn’t want to let that go or lose that.
He was so much older than she was, so much wiser and more experienced. He didn’t look at her as this teenager anymore, as this damaged girl. He was looking at her like he wanted to see her naked and devour her whole. And God, did she want that, especially right now.
All she could think about was him telling Meghan he loved her. And then she’d admitted she was falling in love with him, too. Each day those feelings became stronger and harder to try to ignore.
“Come here.”
All she could focus on was the way his mouth moved as he said those two words.
She licked her lips and moved that last bit of space it took to almost have their chests brushing together.
This is crazy.
But it feels so good.
He reached out and cupped her waist with one hand and covered one side of her face with the other. The scent of him was intense, intoxicating. He still had on the tux and damn, did he make it look good. His short dark hair was styled like he was ready to tackle the boardroom, and the scent of him, good God, the scent of him, that mixture of cologne and masculinity absolutely drove her insane with lust.
He held her cheek in a tight, almost painful grip. It was like he was afraid she would turn and leave. But she had no intentions of doing that, not when she felt this life move through her when he touched her.
“I love you,” he said in a hoarse whisper.
She swallowed, her heart beating hard and almost painfully in her chest. “I love you, too,” she whispered.
He brushed the pad of his thumb along her cheek.
Back and forth, back and forth.
All Elijah did was look into her eyes. God, his eyes were so green, so clear. She felt herself falling into them, getting lost in the color, in the deepness of them. Freya felt herself leaning forward, felt his warm and sweet wine-smelling breath brush along her lips.
Here she was, standing in this elegant evening gown, wanting the damn thing ripped off her. They were alone in this gorgeous cabin out in the middle of nowhere. And right now, to her, this felt good. This felt right. She didn’t want to stop this, didn’t care that he used to be her family, technically, or that he was over a decade older than she was.
