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“That was intense…” she murmurs, her head turning to capture my lips.
“So fucking good.” I continue to feel her body never wanting to stop.
“All yours,” she whispers, and my heart clenches.
“All mine,” I say with a kiss.
39
HARRISON
It’s early. But I need to get out of this bed. It is the biggest day of my career, and I would be lying if I said that my stomach didn’t feel like lead. But I don’t want to move. It has been too long since I watched Beth sleeping in the early morning light and while her bed is too small, her room too pokey, none of that matters like I thought it would because we are together. My fingers trace the small line of a scar that runs across her shoulder down her chest. The small sliver of silver catching in the morning rays, the mark now holding an entirely new meaning for me.
My girl is a survivor.
The storm she has weathered is astounding, and it’s my key motivator today as I embark on a journey that if successful will totally change my life. And hers.
Because Tennyson is right. She needs to be my wife.
“Hmmm, good morning,” she murmurs in her soft, sultry tone that makes me want to tie her to this bed and do ungodly things to her.
“Morning. How are you feeling?” I ask her.
“My body is sore in places it hasn’t been for a while…” she says, a seductive smile gracing her lips. “...My mind is acutely aware that I should be asking you that question. So how are you feeling?”
“Excited, confident, nervous, so many things…” I say quietly, never admitting anything like this to anyone before. Us Rothschild men are strong, stoic, with our charming smiles. But Beth sees the real me. I can't hide from her. I grab her hand, lifting it above us where we lie, my mind full of thoughts about today, about us, about the future.
“Whatever happens, I want you to know that I am proud of you. You have run an excellent campaign, and I am proud to be by your side for all of it,” she whispers, her eyes piercing my heart with an arrow a million times over. No one has told me that they are proud of me since my dad died.
“Win, lose, or draw, I want you by my side,” I say, knowing that she has a million other things to do today with her father in the hospital, but not sure I can do this day without her.
“Well, we will be at the Four Seasons so that is not going to be a hardship,” she says, smiling, her joking making me feel lighter.
“I canceled the Four Seasons,” I tell her, having not informed her of my new plan yet.
“What? What do you mean, canceled? Where are we spending Election Day?” she asks, turning her head, looking at me in shock. I don’t blame her; The Four Seasons has been booked for my team for months.
“The community center,” I state, watching for her reaction.
“The community center? My community center?” she asks, shocked.
“Yes.Ourcommunity center”
“What? Why?”
“It is where it all began. Where I announced my intention to run for governor, where I saw you again, where your life is, where I want our life to be...” I say, taking in her awed expression. She is quiet for a beat, before her sparkling blues get glassy.
“That is brilliant,” she whispers. “The perfect location for it. I bet Jeff is already in a scramble.”
“No doubt. What is his problem, anyway? He sure is protective of you. I don’t like it,” I say, the honesty and jealousy seeping out of me a little too strongly.
“He means well. He has latched onto us all at the center. But while annoying, he is a good friend.”
“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” I grumble, the feeling in the pit of my stomach something I have rarely felt before. But he is trouble. I already know it.
“Do you like the way anyone looks at me?” She toys with me, her fingers strumming my chest, and I feel like purring like a kitten.
“I want to kill any man for looking your way. It is a constant battle every day,” I growl.
