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“Thank you, Conrad. I don’t know how we can ever repay you.”
Just say yes when I ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage, I almost say, the thought rising from my deep need to claim Callie for life.
But I pull it back at the last moment, somehow reining in my stampeding want, my need.
“You don’t need to,” I tell her instead. “We want the same thing. The best for Callie.”
“Why are my ears burning, huh?” Callie says, causing us to turn.
Janet and I gasp at the same time, as we take in the sight of Callie in the dress.
It’s a pale gold color, with little jewels along the fringe. It’s not too short, cutting just above her knees, and her cleavage is hidden behind more subtle fabric. But it hugs her just close enough to set alight the need inside of me, my primal desire mixing with my admiration of her elegance.
“Do I look stupid?” she murmurs.
“No, no.” I pause. “No. You look perfect, Callie.”
“So pretty, so beautiful,” Janet whispers. “Oh, I’ve never seen you in such a wonderful dress.”
“Really?” Her face is bright under the force of the compliments. “You mean it?”
“Yes,” I say huskily. “You look incredible.”
It’s the most truth I can let out when her mother is standing right there. If I told Callie how she’s really making me feel, how bone-deep my need for her goes – how fucking soul deep – my desire would gallop ahead of my reason. My predator’s hands would lash out and grab onto her shoulders, sinking into the glittering gold frills, and shove her up against the wall.
I swallow a big ball of want, turning away.
“Shall we go?” I ask, finding it difficult to even think about looking at her.
She nods and lets out a shaky breath. “Yes, if you’re ready? Jeez, this is crazy. I can’t believe we’re actually going on a date.”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” I snarl, unable to withhold the passion flurrying through my voice. I snap my gaze to her, even if I know it’s a mistake, even if the second I lay eyes on her again my manhood turns rock solid. “You deserve to go on a thousand dates, a million. You deserve to be taken care of every day for the rest of your life and…”
I stop the onrushing stampede of my lust, somehow battering it down, laughing away the roaring lust.
Even if there’s nothing funny about it.
“You deserve the world,” I say.
I turn to find Janet staring at us, tears glimmering in her eyes. Callie moves forward and extends a hand.
“I’m fine,” her mother says quickly. “Sorry, it’s just… I can feel the affection between the two of you. I know you only met recently. But for what it’s worth – if it’s worth anything – you have my blessing.”
Callie rushes to her mother, smoothing her hand around her shoulder and hugging her close. “Of course it’s worth something, Mom,” she says. “Your blessing is important to me. I’m glad you approve.”
Janet closes her eyes and sinks into the embrace, leaving Callie to look up at me with a soft smile on her lips. Our eyes meet and communicate silently, a thousand unspoken messages shimmering between us.
And then she almost says it, almost blurts it out.
I love you.
Before I met my Callie, I would’ve thought it was impossible to read a woman so intimately, to be able to look at her and know exactly what she’s thinking.
But there’s something about the way her eyes glimmer in this moment, something about the way her full flushed cheeks turn crimson.
She was going to say it, but she stopped herself.
Thunder ripples through me.
I want to say it, I realize. Because it’s the truth.
How is that possible?
I’ve known her for a few days, but I love her. I fucking love her.
I bite it back, as the thought slams into me that perhaps I misread her glance, perhaps I’m projecting things that aren’t there. I can’t ruin this before it has a chance to properly begin.
I need to wait…
Until what?
I don’t know, but I need to wait because if I ruin this by coming on too eagerly I’ll never be able to forgive myself.
Chapter Sixteen
Callie
I feel like the whole freaking restaurant is staring at me as Conrad leads me toward a table in the corner. He has his hand on the small of my back, sending warm sensations coursing through me, but it does little to calm the anxiety prompted by the eyes of all these rich beautiful people.
The restaurant is expansive and everything seems to sparkle – the chandelier, the glasses, even the waiters’ shoes.
Turning to Conrad, I watch him to try and bring myself a level of comfort. But all I can think about is how much more attractive he is than me, tall and muscular in his silver suit, his hair gleaming, his ice-blues drawing the attention of every woman we pass.
