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“That’s exactly why I had to leave, Weston. A lowly small-town assistant with no title and no interest in producing an heir was not what the great Weston Myles, or should I say, Dominic Myles, had planned for the man who was to inherit the entire Myles’ fortune.”
My anger rose to a level I couldn’t contain.
“That New Year’s Eve,” I burst out, “I was going to march up to him and tell him I didn’t want any of it. If I couldn’t have you, I didn’t want the world he offered me.” I sat in the empty space on the chaise and dropped my head. “I was ready to give it all up. For you.”
She stayed quiet, unmoving. I looked at her, and her emerald eyes glowed in the firelight. Her brows furrowed, and she looked at the book burning in the fireplace.
“I still don’t want kids, Weston. That hasn’t changed.”
Nothing we couldn’t work through.
“I don’t care.”
“And I don’t have any riches to add to your family. Dahlia’s is struggling. It has been ever since my mom got her diagnosis. I’m not what you need.”
“What’s wrong with your mom?” I asked, ignoring the last thing she said.
She hesitated, but I looked up, urging her to tell me.
“She has kidney disease.” She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them. “Her doctor says she’ll most likely need to get on dialysis soon.”
I saw the pain in her eyes. She suddenly looked defeated. And everything in me wanted to take her pain away.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I said genuinely.
“Yeah, me too.” Her eyes dropped to the chaise.
I moved my hand onto hers and squeezed it. She didn’t take it away. Instead, she stayed there, soaking in my touch. I turned to face her directly, taking her hand and bringing it to my lips. She watched me. Her eyes scanned me carefully.
I could almost hear her thoughts—wondering what I would do next.
I kissed her gently. First on her palm. Then softly on her wrist. Her shoulders relaxed and I could feel the desire radiating off of her. Or maybe that was the heat from the fireplace.
Either way, I couldn’t stop tasting her. I worked my way up her arm. Laying gentle kisses on the woman I had dreamed about for years.
When I reached her neck, she laid back on the chaise and offered it up to me. My lips parted, meeting the delicate skin there, and when I pressed my tongue onto her, she gasped. A turned-on Quinn Miller was a sight. My erection pressed against my jeans, begging to be released, but my attention was on her.
Whatever she needed. I was going to give it to her.
Her eyes locked on mine. This woman was mine. She would always be mine. And I was going to let her know it.
My lips crashed onto hers and our tongues teased each other.
“What do you want me to do to you, bunny?”
She said nothing, but her eyes dropped to her breasts.
I worked my way down her neck and slid the straps off one shoulder and then the other. Her breasts were in full display. She was a sight. I gently licked her nipples while I lifted the soft fabric of her dress up to her waist. When I moved down and kissed the inside of her thigh, she bucked up at me. She wanted more. I kissed my way up to the soft lace underwear, where I traced the edge with my tongue.
Her head fell back, and I could feel the heat between her legs.
Then my phone went off.
Fuck.
Quinn breathed out, irritated too.
I looked at the text.
