“River,” I whisper.
“I said not now, Emily.” He sighs. “Please.”
“But I?—”
“For God’s sake!” He pulls away from me and rises from the bed, pacing.
I can’t help but stare at him. He’s naked and oh, so bloody beautiful, his tanned skin, nearly black hair, dark eyes full of torment. My heart aches as I watch him—the man who loves me. The man I’ve deceived.
“God, Emily.” He runs a hand through his hair, his voice strained. “There’s so much going on inside my head. Just let me have this.”
He moves to the window, stares outside.
“River…” I start again, tentatively.
He whips around to face me, fear flickering in his eyes before he quickly masks it with frustration.
“What is it, Em? What is it that you can’t wait to say?”
Silence stretches between us. It presses down on my chest like lead weights, threatening to crush the very breath from my lungs.
“I…” My voice shakes.
His brows furrow as he awaits my confession.
I’ve reached the point of no return. If I tell him?—
A pounding on the door.
Thank God.
“Fuck it all.” River clambers into his jeans and leaves the bedroom.
I pull the covers tight around me. Who’s at the door? Andwhy am I so grateful for a few more moments of River adoring me?
Easy answer to that one. I love him, and I don’t want to lose him.
If you truly loved me, Emily, I hear him saying inside my head,you wouldn’t have slept with Sebastian.
I didn’t think you loved me, I say back.You left without saying it.
And that excuses you fucking Sebastian?His face is red and angry, his eyes dark and terrifying.
Bloody hell… I may as well get it over with. Imagining what could happen is driving me slowly mad.
I draw in a breath and get out of bed, scurry back into my clothing.
Without bothering to look in a mirror, I pad through the bedroom door and into the living area.
And I gasp.
Standing there, still in the doorway, is none other than Sebastian Tate himself.
His presence fills the room, a tangible darkness that threatens to swallow me whole. His long hair is back in a tie, and his hazel eyes are wide when he sees me. It’s Sebastian in all his glory, the man I would have fucked against a wall the first night if we hadn’t been interrupted.
The man I became entangled with in my moment of weakness.
“If it isn’t my gorgeous English rose,” he says in his smooth and confident voice.
