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“Not today,” I mutter, grabbing a solid silver candlestick on my way to the door. Do I look ridiculous right now?
Probably.
Will I hesitate to knock a fucker out with this candlestick and then toss them over the side of my balcony?
Not even for a second.
Steeling myself for whatever is about to happen, I open the door and raise the candlestick into the air. “Hey! I—what the fuck? Ella?”
“Keir?” Her brows furrow as she looks from my face to the candlestick and back again. “What are you doing?”
I set the would-be murder weapon down on the patio table and shake my head. “Losing my damn mind, apparently. What are you doing out here? I thought you were someone trying to break in.”
She cocks her head to the side and tries—and fails—to stifle a smile. “I’d have to be a pretty determined thief to scale an entire high-rise so I could break into the penthouse.” Now she isn’t even trying to hide her smile. “Just so you know, I’m not that determined. Or that skilled at climbing.”
The corners of my mouth twitch in spite of my shitty mood and still-racing heart. “Noted. You should come inside, though. It’s chilly and depressing out here—probably going to start raining any minute. Let me make you some coffee.”
I move closer to her and reach out to put my hands around her waist, sensing that we might finally be back on good terms again.
She frowns, sidestepping me.
Fuck.
Why is she doing this to me? She’s punishing me for something I didn’t do. Or maybe something she thinks I did. Hell, I don’t even know anymore.
What I do know for sure is that life was a lot simpler when I separated from my wife and could go get my dick wet any damn time I wanted. There weren’t any complications. I didn’t have to worry about anyone’s hurt feelings and I wouldn’t have to pretend to care about her the next morning.
The problem now is that Idocare. I hate to admit it, even to myself, but it upsets me to know that Ella is unhappy. Especially when she’s unhappy with me—which seems to be happening more and more lately.
Why is that?
“So we’re back to this again?” I huff out a short breath, hating that I can’t touch her even though she’s just inches away from me now. “You’re just going to give me the cold shoulder forever?”
Ella cocks her head and eyes me coolly.
“Why do I need to stay here, Keir?” she asks, avoiding my question. “I won’t pretend that I haven’t had some nice times with you, but we’re done now, right? Natasha is out of the picture. The sex tape drama is over. What else is left?”
“Plenty.” My voice is starting to rise in frustration. “We still don’t know who is really pulling Wendy Alan’s strings, but there’s no way in hell she’s been acting alone all this time. No way.”
I pause to take a deep breath and lower my voice. I don’t want to argue with her. I really don’t. But she seems to be hell-bent on making things difficult. Can she really not see that I’m trying to look out for her as much as for myself? That I’m not the bad guy here?
“I can’t let you leave until we know more. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is.”
I don’t know how else to say it. How many times do I have to prove that I’m trying to protect her, myself, and Isla, too?
“So you’re going to hold me here against my will?” Her eyes narrow and there’s so much anger there, but I can see some pain as well. “I just have to stay here in Scotland with you until you tire of me and decide to send me back home? What if I don’t like being your plaything, Keir?”
She’s saying it like it’s a bad thing. I’ve gone above and beyond to make sure that she has every luxury and accommodation in the world at her fingertips. Is she really so miserable here?
I have to keep reminding myself that she’s been through a lot the past few days. I need to be patient and understanding and—fuck it.
I reach for her and pull her close before I can even think about stopping myself. If I can’t get through to her with my words—and that clearly isn’t happening—then I have to find another way to show her how I feel.
A tiny, surprised sound escapes her throat as I lean in, but she doesn’t try to back away when my mouth finds hers. She opens her mouth to me just as my hands skim up the back of her shirt, and I’m not sure which is softer—her plush lips or her silky, smooth skin.
Fuck, I need her now.
“I want you, sweetheart,” I grit out, echoing my own thoughts. “I need to feel you come apart while my cock sinks deep inside you, again and again.”
