Page 25 of His Ring Is Not Enough

Because it shouldn’t matter to him. He shouldn’t feel edgy and beyond himself. Shouldn’t feel like he was about to lose himself, his control, utterly and completely.

He had been prepared to sleep with Rachel, after all, and the idea hadn’t made him feel like he was losing his mind.

He tried to conjure a picture of the woman he loved. And he found it was hard. Tried to pick a fantasy he’d had of her, and realized there wasn’t one. There had never been fantasies of Rachel, not like that. He’d known they would sleep together, and that had been enough. Because it would happen in the right time, according to the plan.

Because then...then everything would be complete. It would be right. But there had been no fantasies.

Even when working his body to the point of exhaustion before bed didn’t keep sleeplessness or arousal at bay; when he took himself in hand, he never imagined a specific woman. No, he did his best to banish images, for fear that he would call up the wrong ones. Images of a past stained beyond the point of ever washing clean.

In those moments he imagined softness, heat, a breathy sound of desire in his ear. Like Leah had made tonight.

No. He wouldn’t do this. He wasn’t a slave to his body.

Then why the hell can’t you stop shaking?

“I’ll let you know when I’m ready to start with you, Leah,” he bit out. “And when I do, you had better be certain, because when it happens, there will be no stopping.”

If he let it go, if this feeling roaring inside of him ever slipped its leash, he knew there would be no way he could stop.

Flashes of memory went through his mind. Women’s hands on his body. Practiced kisses. And then a girl, crying in the corner of the bed as though a monster were after her.

He had to stop now. He had to get his control back.

If he didn’t, he would become a slave to it.

CHAPTER SIX

AJAX DIRECTED EVERY curse he knew, and there were many, at the media the next morning. Were it not for the media, he could escape his new bride for a little while, since pressing business demanded his presence at Holt Headquarters in New York.

But the media prevented it.

Though, in truth, it was not just the media. Leah would be badly missed by everyone on staff, from the woman at front desk reception to the man who cleaned the wastebaskets at night, if he showed up, newly married to the beloved heiress, without her in tow.

Yes, he was well and truly stuck.

He needed distance, a chance to regain a firm grip on himself, and he wasn’t getting it.

He stormed into the study to find Leah, legs curled up beneath her, her laptop in front of her, a piece of red licorice dangling from her lips.

The combination of items brought him straight back to last night. Candy. Red. Lips.

The kiss.

He ran through another string of multilingual curses in his mind.

“We have to go to New York,” he said, his words harsher than intended.

She arched her brows and sucked the piece of candy into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before speaking. “Do we?”

“Yes. It seems your quality control issues weren’t the only ones. Nothing like starting the takeover of a business with serious problems. So, I have to go and figure out where the weak link in the chain is, personally, or there will be no more Holt to worry about.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“A little,” he said. “But I do not want to lose ground within my first week of ownership, and preferably not ever. Wouldn’t Christofides love that?”

“I’m sure.”

“That means I need to be there now. And you need to come with me.”

“I suppose it would look wrong if I didn’t go.”

“Almost as bad as not showing up for a wedding. It would start to appear I couldn’t do anything but repel women.”

She laughed. “I doubt anyone would think you repel women. Although, sometimes you do have bad manners.”

“Bad manners?”

“And you’re a little hard to deal with.”

“Am I?”

“If you don’t know that, then you’re out of touch with reality.”

“I like things the way I like them. I like them to go according to plan.”

She stood and stretched, rounded breasts pushed against the fabric of her T-shirt. And he couldn’t stop his eyes from going there. Couldn’t stop the memory of what it had felt like to have them pressed against his chest.

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