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I can't stop thinking about how I found her, huddled on the floor, struggling to breathe, her whole body shaking. None of that was the reaction of a healthy, well-adjusted young woman experiencing disappointment. God knows what it was like growing up with these people as parents, and from what Reuben has told me about Evie, it's clear she's likely struggling too.
I slip away from dinner as quickly as possible, muttering something about a headache after John calls Evie his "shining star" for the third time in half an hour, and go back to Isobel's villa to check on her. She hasn't moved an inch from where I left her hours ago, curled in the center of the massive bed, her breathing deep and measured. I still don't know what it is about this woman that draws me in so intensely, but as I linger in the doorway to her bedroom, watching her sleep, I ache to crawl into bed behind her and hold her in my arms again.
She's too young for me, I barely know her, and she's struggling with things I'm not supposed to get involved in. On the rare occasions I've imagined what it would be like to fall in love, toreallyfall in love, it wasn't like this. It wasn't a fucking battle. I want to be angry with whatever it is inside me that seems to have decided that this is the woman for me, but I'm not. Every time I get a hint at who she is beyond that stoic, cold facade, I fall harder, and a part of me knows it's already too late. I can't not feel this.
I'm exhausted, but I can't bring myself to walk the twenty yards away to my bungalow. I can't leave her, not after today. Instead, I lay back on the plush white couch and stare at the ceiling fan rotating slowly above my head.
It might have been minutes or hours, but the moon is high outside the back doors when I jerk awake at the sound of soft footsteps. My eyes find her immediately, wrapped in a sheet from the bed and staring at me through the semi-darkness.
"You're still here," Isobel says quietly, her expression unreadable.
Scrubbing a hand roughly over my face, I sit up, swinging my legs over the edge of the couch. "I left for a while. Went to dinner with…. everyone." I don't know how I will get through the rest of this week when I can't even say John and Caroline's names out loud.
Isobel must sense the anger behind my words because she sinks down at the far end of the couch, curling her knees up against her chest. "It's not their fault I wasn't accepted."
Fuck, I hate how defeated she sounds right now. "No, but it is their fault you applied in the first place. Do youwantto be a doctor, Isobel?"
She winces. "I-"
"Because if you don't, it means sacrificing your happiness for theirs. Is that fucking fair? Is that what you would ask your children to do?" I scoff, shaking my head because I already know the answer. "How they treat you is the opposite of love, sweetheart. It's manipulative and cold, and I don't know why they're like this, but they don't deserve a thing from you. So, why are you giving them your fucking life?"
Isobel's eyes drop, and I'm instantly ashamed of myself. She had a panic attack today. The last thing she needs is for me to berate her, but as soon as I open my mouth to apologize, her quiet voice comes through the semi-darkness.
"I know it's not… Normal. The way they treat me, I mean. I know I'm never going to be good enough for them, Harvard or not. I guess I just thought if I checked all the items on their list, did everything Evie did, they'd finally ask themselves why they don't love me."
My heart breaks.
Before I can think better of it, I'm moving onto the floor, kneeling at her feet and gathering her face in my hands so she has no choice but to look down at me. "Issy," I murmur. "If they were capable of asking themselves that question, they would have done it a long time ago."
Tears fall over her cheeks, and I wipe them away with my thumbs, my whole body tense with the effort it takes to keep myself from gathering her in my arms again. "Tell me what you want.What you really want." I beg. I will do anything for this girl. In just a few days, Isobel Bradley has become the center of my world, and,damn me, I don't give a fuck who she is anymore. Every instinct inside me is bellowing that this beautiful, hurt creature is meant for me, and the rest of my life hangs on the question I just asked her.
"Nobody's ever asked me that before." She gives a watery laugh, "You have some nerve, Doctor Hale."
"Issy-"
"Why do you call me that?" She demands suddenly, "Nobody else does."
Intoxicated by my new realizationthat I'm doing this, I draw my thumb over her bottom lip, blood rushing to my cock when I hear her breath catch. "Do you not like it?" She trembles but doesn't move a muscle. We're so close together that I can smell the ocean on her skin, can see the tears clinging to her eyelashes. I'd barely have to move to kiss her, and while I want it more than anything, I know I have to do this right. Like trying to calm a scared animal, I know any sudden movements will send her scurrying back to safety.
"No." She lies, her voice throaty. "No, I don't like it."
I have to bite back a smile. "Would you like me to call you something else?" My hand moves back to tangle through her hair, pulling just enough to ensure she feels it. "Sweetheart?"
She squeaks, her eyes going wide like I just cursed at her."No."
"Baby girl?" Her legs snap together as the words leave my mouth, andfuckdoes that make me hard. It would be so god-damn easy to wedge my hands between her creamy thighs, push them back open, and not let her close them again until I've felt how wet I make her.
"Judah." She's doing her best to sound outraged, but it isn't working.
"Princess?" Issy groans and tries to squirm out of my grasp, but I hold her still, murmuring the truth softly into her ear. "I call you Issybecausenobody else does. Maybe I wanted a piece of you all to myself. Did that ever occur to you?"
Her body trembles, and I press my forehead against her temple, unable to resist breathing in the salt and wind that lingers on her skin. She smells like freedom. "We can't, Judah."
"We can't,"not,"I don't want you,"or"Leave me alone."
I can work with that. She isn't pushing me away, either. Her body has relaxed into mine, and damn it, now that I know what it's like to hold her like this, how the hell am I supposed to stop?
"We'll talk about it tomorrow." Before she can stop me, I slide an arm beneath her leg and one behind her back, lifting her into my arms bridal style. She gasps, her arms flying around my neck to hold on as I get to my feet, moving carefully through the darkened living room and out the open doors to the back deck. The moon is only a few days from full and so bright in the cloudless sky that the ocean's surface seems to glow. "Swim with me."
