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“Was there a falling out? After you broke off the engagement to Mr. Spencer?” Camilla asked, and I nodded. I took a sip of water, bracing myself.

“They told me if I didn’t go through with the wedding, then I would be cut off from the family. In every sense. Personally, professionally, and emotionally. All ties were severed when I stood by my decision.”

“That must be so hard, starting over in a new town all alone. How did you manage it?” Camilla asked sympathetically.

“It was a mix of factors. I can’t really say it was one thing. When I went to my first art class, though, I knew I had made the right decision. Pursuing my degree is something just for me. Painting feeds my soul in a way nothing else could. I’m incredibly grateful that I have the opportunity to follow my dreams.

“Then, there are the people I met here. The friends and loved ones I’m now surrounded by. They took me in, accepted me, and didn’t try to change me. I felt almost reborn, like each day was a new experience, a new discovery of what I actually wanted. It may have taken me almost thirty years, but I’m finally starting to really know who I am, and even starting to like her.” My eyes drifted to Eliot without my control. They were always searching him out.

“New town, new career, and new lease on life. But there’s something else that’s new in your life. Isn’t that true?” I blushed, and my hand went to my necklace, the small pendant a comforting weight in my palm.

“Rumor has it you have a new suitor,” Camilla said with a teasing smile. “I hear he’s a local business owner and philanthropist. Is it safe to assume it’s Mr. Tall, Dark, and Dangerous over there?”

Every eye in the room turned to Eliot. With his hands tucked into his pockets, he leaned casually against the wall, completely unfazed by the attention. He simply nodded in Camilla’s direction.

“At the end of the day, I’m grateful for everything that happened. With Kyle and with my family,” I said. “As painful as it was, it gave me the push I needed to finally stand on my own. If I hadn’t been cut off, if I hadn’t followed my dream of moving here, I never would have met him.”

I glanced at Eliot. His dark eyes held mine, warm and unwavering, carrying a depth of feeling that made my chest tighten. There was no need for words. Everything I needed to know was written in the way he looked at me.

“He’s the one who showed me what true love really is. And I’ve never been happier in my life.”

“And does this mystery man have a name?” Cami stood up, welcoming Eliot into frame, all cameras focusing on him.

“Name’s Eliot. I’m Lilah’s actual fiancé.”

Chapter 32

Lilah

The early morning light washed over me as I awoke, lazy and slow. Splayed across Eliot’s chest, his hand was stroking down my hair and back in a soft motion. With a sigh, I nuzzled against him, basking in the quiet moment.

A yawn washed over me, and I couldn’t help the accompanying stretch, my body freezing when a flash caught my eye. The large diamond holding residence on my left hand was refracting the sunlight to every corner of the room. It wasn’t the typical engagement ring.

Intricate filigree decorated the platinum band, black diamonds embedded in the swirls that wrapped around the stunning squarecut diamond hoisted at the center. It was beautiful, unique, and elegant. It was perfect.

Turning, I looked up at Eliot, his dark gaze watching me closely. His expression was guarded, but I knew him well enough to know he was nervous. A smile broke across my face, and I pushed myself up, reaching for him. Kissing him softly, my eyes fluttered shut as I memorized the moment.

Pulling away, I left my hand on his cheek. Eliot turned, pressing a kiss to my palm, his hand grabbing mine before holding it between us. His thumb stroked the ring, his big hands, rough and scarred and covered in dark tattoos, were infinitely gentle.

“Yesterday, I called you my fiancé. You didn’t disagree.” His eyes held mine.

“I didn’t.” Wrapping his arms around me, Eliot flipped our positions so he was leaning over me.

“That was your chance.” His gruff voice was possessive, unflinching. A giggle escaped me. Of course he was serious. He always meant what he said.

“Crazy man,” I murmured, pulling him down to me.

Eliot’s black tee—the one that smelled like him and was soft from multiple washes—was pulled off me in the next moment. My panties followed in quick succession. Before the clothes even hit the ground, he was touching me. Closing my eyes, I gritted my teeth as I endured his slow glide down my body, the way his mouth and hands kissed and teased me. He knew every spot that lit me up, the scrape of his teeth over my nipples and inner thighs teasing me. It was torture.

When his mouth closed over my sex, I moaned. My body felt oversensitive with every touch, sending shivers through me. One of my hands went to his head, and the other to his shoulder as I struggled to decide if I wanted to pull him closer or push him away. Eliot froze, looking up at me, his dark gaze filled with hunger. Like a leashed animal, I wanted to see him let loose completely.

Pushing himself up, I whimpered at the loss of connection. Heading for the chair in the corner, he pulled the sash off the robe I had hanging over there. Wordlessly, he carried it over to the bed, waiting for me to say no, to stop him.

Instead, I relaxed back against the pillows, waiting for his next move. My wrists were secured to the bed frame, my arms above my head, unable to touch Eliot or myself.

“You disobey me, and I’ll tie your legs next,” he said before sliding his hand through my hair, then slowly dragging it down my body, pausing to squeeze my hip. The sight of his tattooed hand against my pale skin gave me a thrill. His grip was strong, possessive. I wanted to see his marks imprinted on me, branded by his touch.

Finally moving down, he pulled my legs apart before slipping a finger inside of me. My legs shifted restlessly as he watched me, adding another finger but keeping the pace slow and teasing.