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“Amy,” he said again. “Look at me. Now.” The edge in his voice startled me, and I glanced up to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t. I just…I need some time to think about this.”
“Talk to me.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep the tears from my eyes. “I can’t.”
That was what had gotten me here in the first place. Roman was good with words, pulling you in before you knew what to expect. Tonight was the first time in a long time I’d felt alive. Like every mistake I’d made in my life didn’t matter. I was just a woman. A woman he wanted.
But that moment was over.
His energy had changed. Whatever ground we’d just gained didn’t matter, because we were back at the starting line now. I could feel it. The dynamic between us had shifted, all the intensity of the last few moments dissipating.
Standing before him, knowing what it felt like to have him inside me, was too much distance to handle. The need for him wasn’t fading, it was growing. It was pathetic how badly I wanted to just disappear in his arms. I hadn’t realized how hollow I truly was until right then. And I couldn’t face him.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said.
“Are you planning on making me stay?”
“No,” he growled. The way he said it tore something inside of my chest. He looked angry. But I couldn’t deal with that right then. I just needed space. Quickly. Emotions were flooding, and every insecurity, every ounce of doubt I had about myself and this arrangement, was rushing in on me. I refused to break down in front of him.
“You’re different…I didn’t expect this,” I whispered.
Because the truth was, every time I crossed paths with Roman Reese, I seemed to see a different facet of him. At the gala he’d been charming. At dinner he’d been demanding. And tonight, he was intensely consuming.
“I didn’t either,” he said, his steely gaze boring down on me.
I couldn’t take anymore. His looks and dominating presence were too much. I grabbed my purse from the table, walked to the door, and opened it.
“Let my driver take you home,” he called after me.
I glanced over my shoulder. “Thank you.”
“Amy—”
“Good night, Governor,” I said, and shut the door behind me.
Chapter Six
Hey,” Paige said, looking up from her laptop. She was in the middle of the living room floor, surrounded by crumpled papers, a legal pad on her knee. She closed the screen.
I locked the door behind me and took off my jacket. “Hi.”
“You okay?” Her tone was soft. We hadn’t spoken much since Roman had interrupted girls’ night yesterday. I kicked off my shoes and crossed my arms.
“I don’t know, Paige.”
She set the legal pad on the floor and stood, approaching me. “Did something happen? Are you hurt?”
“No,” I smiled a little. If there was a mama bear of our little den, it was Paige.
She cared—she just didn’t do emotions well. Logic first, questions later was her thought process. I wanted to tell her everything—God knew I could use some advice right now—but there were pieces I couldn’t share, not even with my best friend.
“We…Roman and I…” I glanced at my hands.
“You had sex?” she asked.
I nodded.
