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His hand made circular motions in the small of her back. She raised her leg a touch, pressing her pelvis into his thigh. It didn’t matter how deep her orgasms were, still she wanted more. And more...
‘You’re insatiable,’ he growled.
‘That’s your fault for being so sexy,’ she protested with a grin, moving her hand lower.
His eyes gleamed, but he grabbed her hand and brought it back up to rest at his chest. ‘You, my little songbird, are the most desirable woman alive.’
My little songbird?
The possessive pronoun made her heart jolt and soar in a motion so powerful it reverberated through her whole body, right down to the tips of her toes.
My little songbird.
And in that moment came a flash of recognition of such clarity that her heart stuttered to a stop before stammering back into throbbing motion.
This wasn’t about lust and desire.
She loved him.
Loved him. Loved him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
STRUGGLING TO COMPREHEND, Amalie detached herself from his arms and sat up, crossing her legs to stare down at the face she had, without knowing how or when, fallen in love with.
‘Is something the matter?’ he asked, his eyes crinkling in question. ‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’
She shook her head, partly to refute his question and partly in wonder that this could have happened to her. She waited for self-recrimination to strike, but the wonder of the moment was too great, her mind a jumble.
Shaking her head again, she said, ‘You forcing me here...that horrible contract you forced me to sign...the threats you made...’
He winced and she was glad. She wanted him to be ashamed of his behaviour. It meant he had a conscience. And if he had a conscience that meant he was the flesh-and-blood man she’d got to know these past few weeks and not the terrifying ogre she’d first met. It meant they had a chance. A small chance, she knew. Tiny. But a chance all the same.
She rubbed her thumb over his bottom lip and said softly, ‘Just because I think you’re the sexiest man alive, it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what you did to get me here and the abhorrent threats you made.’
But did it mean she’d forgiven him? Talos wanted to know. He opened his mouth to ask, but then closed it.
What if she said no? What if she said she could never forgive him for how he’d got her here and the threats he’d made?
Why did he even want her forgiveness? He’d never sought forgiveness before.
Recalling the intimidation he’d put her under to get her acquiescence made him feel tight and compressed inside, and his skin felt as if claws were digging into it. Ruthless behaviour when necessary was nothing new to him, but it had a different taste when you had spent the previous night in bed with the recipient of that behaviour. It tasted different when you knew you would maim anyone who would dare even dream of hurting a hair on the head of that person.
It suddenly struck him that he would give his life to protect this woman.
And as the shock of that revelation filtered through him she continued to speak, cross-legged beside him, naked, the sheet twisted on her lap.
‘Whatever the initial circumstances, I can’t help thinking coming here is the best thing that could ever have happened to me.’
‘Why?’ His voice sounded distant and his head was spinning, his pulse racing so hard nausea gripped the lining of his stomach.
‘Because being here has given me the time and space to see things clearly.’ She dipped her head and gnawed at her bottom lip before speaking again. ‘One of my psychiatrists told me outright that he thought I didn’t want to be fixed. He was wrong. I...’ Her voice caught. When she looked at him her eyes were glassy. ‘It’s not that I didn’t want to be fixed...it’s that I didn’t think I deserved to be fixed.’
Talos ran a hand over his jaw, at a loss as to what he could say. She was unbuttoning herself to him, ready to spill her secrets, and all he wanted to do was shout out and beg her to stop.
He didn’t want to hear them. He didn’t want to feel anything else for her. Not pity, not empathy. He would take his guilt like a man, but nothing more.
‘Maybe you can understand the early part of my life,’ she said, oblivious to the turmoil going on within him. ‘You’ve always been public property too. Before I’d reached the age of ten I’d played for the President of France, had taken part in a celebrity-led anti-poverty concert that was beamed around the world to a billion people...’
