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Hardly. Does she really not see how special she is?
She rubbed her hand up her arm. She was so vulnerable. He stepped closer and tipped her chin up to look at him. “I’m sorry for trying to get into your business earlier. It pissed me off—what those bitches said about you. I don’t understand how people can be so vile and spread vicious lies.”
She winced. “Thank you for caring enough to want to do something. No one’s . . .” She hesitated, holding in whatever she was going to say, like he assumed she did with so much else.
He traced his thumb over her bottom lip. She shivered.
“I care a lot more than I probably should after just a few days with you.”
She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. “Me too.”
A spark of hope lit, burning bright. “Maybe this doesn’t have to end Monday when I return to the city. I can come back. We can see where this goes?”
Her green eyes darted to his. Disbelief, indecision, and hope flashed across her expression like a work of moving art. “Atlas, I’d love that. But—”
His mouth crashed over hers, elation spinning in his chest. Hope and warmth. Nothing had felt as right as this in his life. There was no room for “buts.” He wanted her. He yearned for her like no other before. And she’d just said he could have her. Jasmine is mine.
She was the one good thing in his life, untainted by his family or the expectations imposed on him. Jasmine saw him. She didn’t think he was second best. For once in his life he didn’t have to be compared to his brother. She was separate and beautiful. Goodness and comfort. Light and love. And he’d do whatever it took to hang on as long as she’d let him.
