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I only wanted her.
“You have the stuff I asked for?” Giselle spoke, eyeing the bag I held onto. A small black bag that contained what she’d wanted, and I never once asked her what she’d wanted them for. I already knew. If she was going to get married, that meant she’d be moving out of this house, and she’d need a way to keep tabs on her father.
I nodded. My jaw clenched as I gazed down at her, staring deep into those big, brown eyes. Eyes that were unlike Miguel’s in that they were warm. Even when she was in a mood, they were lighter than his, more an amber brown, and in the sunlight? In the sunlight they sparkled like warm molasses.
“Thank you,” she said, turning her back to me and leaving her door open—and I assumed that meant I could go in.
So I did.
I went in and shut the door with my foot, hard enough to make her shake her head, as if she was waiting for me to say something. I tossed the bag of goodies onto her bed before whirling on her once again, demanding, “When were you going to tell me about your engagement to Luca?”
“You already knew about it” was her answer, and it wasn’t good enough for me.
I stared hard at her back. Her shoulders were rod straight; it looked as though she was uncomfortable, but I couldn’t fight the angry jealousy inside. “No, I knew Miguel was talking to Rocco about it, but I didn’t know it was actually a thing—not until late last night, when Miguel texted me to let me know.”
Giselle sighed.
I took a step toward her. “You asked me to get these things for you. Why didn’t you tell me then? Do I not matter enough? Do you just not give a shit about anything anymore, is that it?”
She was slow in turning around to face me, even slower in shaking her head and whispering, “You matter, Zander, all right? You matter.” She glanced down at her left hand, and it was then I realized she already had a sparkling diamond ring on it. Fuck. “Luca dropped it off an hour ago. It feels weird. I don’t… I don’t like it, and I definitely don’t want it.” That hand curled into a fist, and rage crossed her beautiful face. “So don’t you dare accuse me of not giving a shit about anything, Zander.”
Swallowing hard, I said, “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that. That was out of line. But you should’ve told me. I should’ve heard it from you, not Miguel—”
“Why? Because I owe you something? Because you think you have some kind of claim on me?” Giselle let out a laugh. “You’ve always acted like you own me, Zander. You’ve always gotten jealous, even before…” Apparently, she couldn’t say that we’d kissed. Multiple times. “You never had any right to act that way.”
“You don’t get to tell me how to act.”
“Don’t I?” she questioned, flashing me her hand and the diamond on it. “I’m going to be a married woman. I need to get it in now, because once I’m a Moretti, I’ll be nothing but a brood mother waiting to get pregnant and pop out babies that I won’t even be able to look at, let alone love. You have no idea what I’m going through right now, Zander. No idea.”
That was true. I couldn’t put myself in her shoes, and yet… yet the same could be said of her. “And you have no idea what I’m going through, Giselle,” I whispered back, remembering, against my better wishes, that night. The gunshot. Lowering my aim just so.
I could’ve killed her. I could’ve killed her and ended all of this, done what Miguel had wanted.
She set a hand on her hip. She wasn’t wearing gloves right now; she’d be unable to, at least while wearing that ring. The fucking diamond was so huge, it was ridiculous. “Oh, yeah? Then why don’t you tell me what you’re going through, Zander. Tell me all of your problems. You must have a lot of them.” The attitude she gave me only served to rile me up further.
How badly I wanted to confess to her, but I knew if I did, she’d hate me. She’d throw me out of her room and never want to see or speak to me again—and even though she was going to be a married woman, I couldn’t stand the thought. I needed to have as many moments with her as I could before she tied the knot with that asshole.
“You want to know what my problem is?” I paused, trying to cool it, to calm myself. I could feel how hot my blood ran through my veins, and I wanted nothing more than to grab Giselle and make her see just how much she mattered to me. She mattered so much, too much, to the point where I went against her father, Miguel Santos, the one man I’d sworn all allegiance to.
She mattered. She had always mattered to me.
“Yes,” Giselle shot back. “Lay it on me, Zander. You have the floor.” She made a mockingly dramatic bow, as if giving me the stage of her room.
“You,” I whispered, inching toward her. “You’re my problem. You’ve always been my problem. Everything I do, everything I think—I can’t get you out of my head. You’re always there, and no matter how hard I try not to, you come back ten times harder.” I stopped when I stood less than a foot in front of her, my voice low as I went on, “You make me crazy. You drive me up the fucking wall. You make me want to punch holes in the wall.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, what huge problems those are. You’re right. You win—” She stopped when I held up a finger, an inch before her lips.
“I’m not done,” I told her, dropping my hand to my side. She glared at me, but she didn’t say another word, letting me continue: “You make me want everything I shouldn’t. You make me want to be a better man. You make me want to do everything I can in my power to make sure you’re happy. You… you drive me fucking crazy, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Giselle finally seemed to realize that I wasn’t going where she thought I would, and her voice trembled when she whispered my name. “Zander.”Never before had she sounded so… sad.
“I know it can’t go anywhere, I know we’re doomed, but nothing can change the way I feel about you.” My feet drew me closer to her; less than two inches between our bodies. If I took a deep breath, my chest would touch her. If I twitched my hands toward her, I’d grab her. We were so close, and yet still so far. “I love you. I love you so fucking much.”
Her eyelids fluttered shut, and again she whispered my name, this time in a much different way, “Zander.”
“I want to touch you so bad. I want to pin you against the wall and make you squirm. I want to feel your lips on mine again—and this time, I don’t want to stop.” All things I shouldn’t have said, especially now that she was engaged. Again, she was as off-limits as ever, and yet that didn’t stop my mind from racing, my heart from beating so fast it threatened to tear out of my chest. I wanted Giselle so badly I couldn’t stand it.
Giselle then said something I wasn’t expecting, something that instantly made my bottom half heat up: “Then touch me.” And by my bottom half, I meant one part of me specifically.
