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I toss my phone on the bed, drop my towel on the floor, and dash across the room to choose underwear. I go with a matching white and black lace set . . . just in case things have changed. A girl can dream. And be prepared.
I opt for the casual look. Natural makeup, messy bun on top of my head, black-frame glasses in place of my contacts, black yoga pants, and a long purple tunic with an oversized boat neck. It hangs off one shoulder in a subtle-sultry-sensual-sexy way.
I have a glass of Prosecco with the thought that it might help calm my nerves. The only thing the wine accomplishes is making my cheeks feel like they’re on fire. I’m definitely not calmer than I was when I took the first drink.
I jolt like I’ve been goosed in the ribs when the doorbell chimes. Oh, shit. Here we go, Elli.
Do not act like you give two shits that he’s in your apartment alone with you.
Do not plead with him to claim you.
Do not fall into bed with him.
I open the door and nearly lose my breath when I see those damn intense amber eyes fringed by long dark lashes. It’s been six weeks since the last time I lost myself in them. They’re like golden magnets drawing me in.
My feelings for Jamie are no less intense than they were the last time we were together. I still want him despite being told it’s an impossibility. I’ve never been receptive to hearing that I couldn’t have what I wanted and now is no exception.
Pushing to get what I want has often worked for me in the past, but not this time. It only got me as far as the bedroom with Jamie’s hand up my dress. Not being claimed.
When a man like him says no, he means it. And although he admitted that he wanted me, he was also very clear about where we stand.
We. Aren’t. Happening.
“Hi.” It’s only a single word but I’m certain to make it sound assertive. I won’t let him see the chaos spinning out of control inside my head and heart.
“Hi.” He stands in the hallway, hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans. It’s impossible to not notice the way his black T-shirt hugs his broad chest and shoulders. How I wish I knew what he looks like beneath that shirt.
“Come in.”
I lead Jamie to the living room and wonder with every step if he’s looking at me and recalling what it was like to touch my body. Or to have me pushed against the wall, kissing me like crazy. Or to have me beneath him on the bed with his hand up my dress.
I stand with my arms crossed, waiting to see where he’ll sit, but he chooses to stand in front of the fireplace instead. His demeanor is different. He’s not his usual cool self at all. Am I wrong to think he’s as out of sorts as me?
“I was having a glass of Prosecco. Would you care for one?” Silly offer. I’m certain Jamie isn’t much of a sparkling white wine man. “Or a Johnnie Walker?”
“I’ll take a whisky. Neat, please.”
Jamie is silent as I pour his drink and I swear I can feel the sexual tension smothering me like a thick smog. “Sin said you were coming over to discuss Fellowship business? I’m curious to find out how that includes me.”
“Aye. I have a proposal, and I’m hoping you’ll be interested.”
I hear the word proposal and my stomach swarms like bees leaving a kicked hive. Stop, Elli. You already know it’s not that kind of proposal.
I pass him the glass of whisky and silently pray he doesn’t see the unsteadiness of my hand. “What kind of proposal?”
“The takeover is going to be an all-out battle for dominance between The Order and us. Brothers will be injured. Some will die. Unfortunate but inevitable.”
I don’t know everything about The Fellowship but I’m certain of one thing. As The Fellowship physician, Jamie won’t be part of the actual fighting. That eases some of my worries.
“I hadn’t really considered the aftermath of the fight.”
These men going to battle are about to be my people. They’re taking on an enemy. An enemy who wouldn’t hesitate to come after me if given the opportunity. But I’m still finding it difficult to be concerned with their well-being. I can’t get my mind off my own welfare.
“This will be the worst battle The Fellowship has ever faced. I’m trying to look at this realistically. I’m afraid I won’t be able to handle the wounded by myself. I’m going to need someone to help me.” Jamie’s eyes lock on mine. “I want you.”
I want you. Three words I’ve been dying to hear from him . . . but not in this capacity.
I smile, a camouflage so he won’t see the disappointment hiding behind my expression. “Yeah . . . of course. I’m happy to lend a hand.”
“I’m relieved you’re willing to help but you should probably hear me out entirely before making a final decision.”
“Okay.”
“I want to set up a suitable infirmary where I can treat the brothers after the battle as well as on a permanent basis. Preparing the facility will be a lot of work in a short amount of time since we’re only a few weeks away. I’m thinking long-term, so I’ve asked Sin for a house. I think it’s best that I live there so I can be available as needed.”
The truth is, Jamie is a doctor who will be on call twenty-four/seven for the rest of his life. Or until another doctor takes his place years down the road. The Fellowship owns him but at least with this plan, he won’t be called away from home all the time. The brothers come to him instead. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re sort of brilliant?”
A low chuckle accompanies the smile on Jamie’s face. “You should probably withhold your verdict until you’ve heard the rest.”
“I’ve no doubt it only gets better.” He is clever. I’m certain he’s given this a lot of thought.
“This whole idea of an infirmary is shite if I don’t have the help I need.”
No matter the talent, a single person can’t be doctor, nurse, supply fetcher, and light adjuster at the same time. “I agree with that one hundred percent. It’s going to take a team to make this work.”
“Aye and I’m only half the team. I want you to be the other half. The better half, I’m sure.”
The better half. His words reach my stomach, grip it tightly, and twist.
“I want you to live there with me. That’s what it’ll take if it’s to run efficiently.”
Live with him?
Live. With. Him?
He’s got to be kidding me.
How would I do that and not completely lose my mind? The agony of not being with this man is bad enough. Sleeping with him in the bedroom next to mine would be pure torture. “Jamie . . . do you really need me to explain why living together—but not being together—isn’t going to work?”
Jamie comes to the sofa and sits beside me. Mere inches away. Within my reach but completely unobtainable. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy.”
“Being with you but not with you . . . it would be so painful that someone would need to come up with a new word for what it would feel like. Difficult doesn’t hold a candle for how hard i
t would be.”
“Being close would be worse than being apart? Worse than not seeing each other for six weeks?” Has being apart been agony for him too?
“It would be much worse to have you within my reach all the time.”
At least with being apart, the constant temptation isn’t there. I know my weakness for Jamie. I would be tempted every single night to go to his bed. And it would kill me to be turned away. I can’t go there again.
“I’m not as strong as you.” I don’t have an ounce of willpower when it comes to this beautiful man. Even now, I want to plead with him to have me. To claim me. To take me into the bedroom and make me scream his name over and over.
“I’m not as strong as you think.”
“You were strong enough to tell me no.” I ache in my chest as I recall him pushing me away. No man has ever hurt my heart the way Jamie did that day.
“You’re wrong. I’m so damn weak when it comes to you, Ellison.”
We’d be together if that were so. “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”
“The Order takeover is scheduled to happen in three weeks. You’re going to belong to another soon after. And it’s making me lose my fucking mind.”
Is it wrong to be happy to hear him admit he’s going crazy? “You made your decision.”
“What if I don’t want to live the rest of my life not knowing how you look when you wake next to me in the mornings, or how you feel in my arms at night when we fall asleep, or how you smile in your sleep when you’re dreaming of happy things?”
He didn’t mention a word about claiming or marrying me. That means I fall into the third category of females in his precious Fellowship. Fuck-worthy. “You said you wouldn’t taint me.”
“You won’t be considered tainted in the eyes of the brothers if they don’t know we’ve been together. It would have to be our secret.”
We’d be hush-hush, keeping everything we share in the dark . . . like it’s dirty. Like it’s wrong. Like it’s depraved.
So, what? When we’re over, I have to watch him hop from one Fellowship whore to the next because he can never have a wife? I have to pick up my broken heart and simply move on with my husband? I don’t work like that. It’s not in my makeup.
