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Never mind my new hardness. What should I do with her? WhatcouldI do? Isabelle has taken me deep into dangerous territory. It’s too late for me to bail out, but despite the suspense she boasted about, I haven’t forgotten that she’s scared. And she’s scarred. But I’ve got to have her and keep her.
Just by imagining what her fantasy might be, I’m trapped. I’ve already promised myself that whatever it is, I’ll make it my own as soon as I know it.
17
ISABELLE
The sun rises, reminding me that all good things must come to an end—including my time with Clayton.
My heart is rebelling like a teenager being told they’ve been grounded. I’m sore but hungry—and it’s not for breakfast. My core is still pulsing from too much pleasure. The moment when I told myself ‘just for tonight’ seems like a distant past.
How am I going to survive today, and tomorrow, without him?
Unable to deal with my helplessness, I let myself fall onto him. He responds with a tight embrace—dare I say he’s as helpless as I am. But we both know that much as we want to go back to bed and ravage each other again, I can’t miss my shift.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” I murmur.
“You’re welcome here anytime. We have plenty of opportunities to recreate last night,” he whispers.
I’m hopeful but realistic. There are forces around us that might change our destiny, but I can’t help letting myself get lost inside his safety.
“Or, creating something even better?” He runs his fingers across my cheek, which I’m sure is a hint about the fantasy that I haven’t revealed yet.
I’m here because I wanted to be with him. I want nothing of the man other than his affection, but imagining him and me doing what I had in mind, is more than a carrot for me to keep going with him. Oh, that man has no idea!
He scoops my chin up and gives me a kiss. “For now, your patients need you.”
My lips pout in a smile. He’s still close, so I twist them slightly, hinting I want that kiss again. And he gives it to me.
He then offers, “Come, let me drive you.”
Tempting, but I hang on to my keys. “I need my car.”
“Well, I’ll drive your car then.”
I grimace. I know he’s not a snob, but him driving my Toyota? For the sake of keeping my vision of Clayton Hartley as the ultimate billionaire hero intact, he’s got to stay within the boundary of my imagination. Besides, that red baby is calling.
Catching me wondering, he places a playful kiss on my crown. “Tell you what. I’ll get my driver to drop off your car at the hospital so you’ll have a ride home after your shift.”
“Okay. For now?”
He tosses me his Porsche key. “Swap ya.”
I give him mine, which he leaves under the mat for his driver to pick up.
Although my dress has dried overnight, thanks to the warmth of the cottage, the breeze out here makes me shiver.
“Here.” He gives up his knit cardigan and helps me slip into it.
God, I can get used to this.
“Did you ruin your suit?” I ask, at the same time admiring his t-shirt-clad torso. His muscles stretch the material, revealing how ripped his trunk is. How I want to tear it apart and repeat last night all over again.
“Fine wool and rain don’t mix, but I don’t think it’s a write-off. It was only the first time it got drenched like that.”
I chuckle, glancing at him, warning him that there may be more times to come.
I dive into the driver’s seat like the Porsche was mine. Taking in the leather smell, I clutch the steering wheel as if I’d just met an old friend.
