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He turned his back on her, on the temptation that she presented, and looked out across the dark shadow of forest beyond the windows. He shouldn’t have pushed her at the waterfall. He just... He’d just wanted her to know. How amazing she could be if she stopped letting other people dictate who she was.
He heard her take another step into the room and closed his eyes. This could ruin everything. They had a perfect deal. Each would get what they wanted and walk away.
‘Why do you cut yourself off from everything here?’ she asked, her English accent so clear and unwavering.
It wasn’t the question he’d been expecting so it took him a moment to shift mental gears. A moment in which she took another step forward. He felt it.
‘Because it’s completely cut off from the rest of my life.’
She nodded as if she not only understood but had expected the answer. ‘It’s contained.’
He frowned, but yes—it was contained.
‘As if,’ she said, coming another step towards him, ‘what happens here doesn’t affect what happens there.’
He stilled, realising where she was going with this but not sure he wanted to follow.
‘Does it work the other way round?’ she asked, and her simple question raised the hairs on his forearms. She was asking too much.
‘No one else has ever been here to find out,’ he said. He was losing the fight because he wanted something in his mouth other than the taste of guilt and regret. He wanted her.
Skye stood by his side and as she looked out through the window she let him study her, take her in; she felt his gaze against her skin, where his eyes roamed across her face and back.
‘We have a deal,’ he snarled, not scaring her in the least. She knew he wa
s struggling with this. Knew that he wanted her as much as she wanted him. ‘You’ve agreed to be my wife—for three years. If this gets—’
‘You think because I’m inexperienced I won’t be able to separate this night from our deal? Or do you think because I’m a woman I won’t be able to separate my emotions from—’
‘It’s not you,’ he growled. ‘It’s me. It’s me because I know, deep down, I am my parents’ child—selfish and always one step away from doing whatever the hell I want. And, believe me, I want you. But it can’t happen.’
He finally turned to face her and the look in his eyes stole her breath. She could see he was fighting it and it made her angry.
‘Really? You spent all day pushing me, probing my emotions and hurts, demanding that I accept myself just as I am. You tell me to go for what I want and then tell me I can’t have it?’
His eyes flared in the dark room, the moon shooting stars across his icy blue irises.
‘One night? You just want one night?’
‘Yes,’ she breathed, not caring about the longing in her voice.
‘It will never be enough, Skye.’
‘Your arrogance is astounding,’ she breathed, outraged.
‘I didn’t mean for you.’ His voice was dark, angry with warning. It matched the fire he’d started within her and there was only one way forward now—to let it burn.
‘It will have to be,’ she said on a shaky breath. Because she wasn’t ready for more. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready for more.
She looked up at him to see if he’d heard, or even understood. He watched her for so long she was ready to turn and leave, when finally he nodded. Once.
And that was all the warning she had before his lips crashed down on hers, his hands coming to frame her face, pressing against her hair and anchoring her to him, angling her to him in a way that she couldn’t resist. She opened up for him, his tongue plunging deep within her, filling her in a way that she felt she’d missed her entire life.
Her hands flew to his shoulders, holding on as he feasted upon her, but also taking something for herself. His smooth, hot skin was perfect beneath her palms, her fingers flying over his collarbone to the stretch of his powerful traps, around his shoulders and down his sides. She felt like a sculptress, learning the figure she wanted to create by touch.
Each inch of skin she discovered was incredible but not enough. More, more, more. It was like a mantra turning over again and again in her mind. She wanted absolutely everything he could give her. He walked her back a step and she felt the coolness of the glass at her back through the thin linen shirt covering her fevered skin. He left her lips swollen and ravished as he bent his mouth to her neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses beneath her jawline down to her shoulder, where he gently bit down on her flesh. Her core clenched in reaction, desire and heat pooling low and throbbing.
Unable to help herself, she arched her chest to his, needing to feel him against her body. Benoit threaded an arm behind her in the space she had created, hauling her against him, and she lifted her leg, shamelessly hooking it around his hip and pressing into his erection.
