“You’re right. I was horrible to you when you first came here.”
“Why were you so hateful?”
“Your role here is the embodiment of everything I despise about the Brotherhood.” He pauses, throat bobbing with a hard swallow. “I didn’t want to care for you, and I sure as hell didn’t want to fall in love with you.”
His unspoken but lingers between us, heavy in the air with a soul-lighting spark of clarity. He didn’t want to love me…
But he does.
As my breathing grows shallow, I cover his hand with my own, keeping his warm palm flush with my cheek. “Sebastian, I…” Another tear slips free, a mixture of hurt and cautious joy.
He swipes the salty drop away with his thumb. “Don’t say it unless you mean it.”
“I feel it too,” I whisper.
He tugs me onto his lap, one arm tight across my lower spine. “It kills me to know I’m not the only one you feel it for.”
I’ve never seen him more raw and flayed, and I suspect he’s not used to putting his pride on the line, let alone his heart.
Not since Lilith Astor.
I settle into the skin-on-skin straddle and take his scruffy face between my hands. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, especially Liam because he’s been good to me, but—”
“No buts.” His jaw hardens. “Give it to me straight.”
“I wasn’t done yet,” I say, echoing his earlier sentiment. “But…you have my heart.” His lips part, and before he says a word, I press a finger to his mouth. “I need to know if I have yours.”
“Why do you think I brought you here?” He glances at the candles placed around the bedroom. “Words mean shit without the actions to back them up. I wanted to show you how much you mean to me.” He pauses. “I wanted to be the man you deserve.”
“You are, Sebastian.”
“I hope that’s true.”
“Is there a reason it wouldn’t be?”
“I can be a real ass.”
I laugh. “That’s common knowledge.”
His serious expression doesn’t break. “You really want to marry me?”
“It’s not up to me,” I point out. “That decision is out of my hands.”
“For me, it’s not. I won’t bid in the auction unless you want me to.”
“Of course I want you to.”
He tugs my face closer. “Then it’s you and me, princess.” With the vow sweet on his lips, he seals it with a kiss.
Chapter Eight
He’s beautiful when he sleeps, his features softened in the late morning sunlight that filters through the gauzy curtains. His naked body sprawls on the mattress beside me, bedsheets pushed below his groin to reveal a huge morning erection. My fingers itch to caress the length, but I don’t want to wake him yet. Resisting temptation, I train my attention above his waist.
His right shoulder wears the evidence of my fingernails from last night. Those marks are proprietary, telling the world he’s mine. Last on my morning round of ogling the sexiest man alive, I stall on his face. Dirty blond hair flops over his forehead in dishevelment. I want to brush it back, but I don’t dare for fear of waking him. Just as I don’t dare disturb those full lips—beautifully shaped and parted on each exhale—by greeting him good morning with a kiss.
Instead, I slither off the mattress and tiptoe to the end of the bed. Opening my suitcase would cause too much noise, so I grab his dress shirt off the floor and pull it on, fastening all but the top two buttons. The material is soft and encloses my body in his clean and earthy scent.
I leave the bedroom, planning to surprise him with breakfast in bed, but just as I enter the kitchen, a firm series of knocks startle me to a halt. I change direction, and even before I pull the front door open, I somehow know who’s standing on the other side.
“Did he hurt you?”
It’s the first thing out of Liam’s mouth, his concerned umber gaze darting over my shoulder in search of the man he deems his rival. Stepping onto the front stoop, I close the door behind me. The maneuver puts me in close proximity, and I fit my spine against the wood, clinging to space. The alternative would mean having this conversation inside, which would wake the sleeping lion, and the last thing I want is a confrontation to ruin what promises to be another perfect day.
I also don’t want to hurt Liam more than necessary…more than I already have. More than I will when he learns the truth.
“I’m fine,” I say, my voice scratchy from sleep.
The chancellor’s attention spans my face before roving to mid-thigh, where the hem of Sebastian’s shirt falls. My cheeks flush with guilt, and I avoid his eyes.
“You don’t seem fine, my sweet girl.” He reaches a hand out to touch me, but his fingers stop before making contact. “You seem upset.”
“You seem tired,” I counter, examining the circles under his eyes. Exhaustion darkens his scruffy jawbone, the evidence of a sleepless night drawn in the lines around his mouth. Even his suit, worn to perfection on most days as if he invented the concept of a classically dressed man, hangs on his frame in a rumpled state.
“I couldn’t sleep.” He pauses with a bob of his Adam’s apple. “Not while you were missing.”
“Missing?”
“Sebastian wasn’t supposed to take you off the estate grounds without clearance.”
“It’s not like he took me to another country.”
“He broke protocol, Novalee.”
The door wrenches open, and I fall backward into two strong, warm arms. “You can take your protocol and shove it,” Sebastian says, folding me into a possessive embrace from behind. His jeans brush my calves, and I’m relieved he had the foresight to put on a pair of pants.
Liam’s gaze narrows to two angry slits as he takes in the arms around my waist, as if they’re a threat he must destroy. He shakes his head. “You can’t do whatever the hell you want. You’re required to clear all overnight trips with the Brotherhood first. I can have you disqualified from the auction for this.”
“No!” I move out of Sebastian’s grasp and put my hand on the front of Liam’s suit jacket. “Please don’t. I’m begging you.” The instant the plea leaves my lips, I want to recall the words and the blaring ring of truth in them.
I want to take back the unintended pain I just launched at him. But there’s no taking it back. Devastation holds his expression hostage, and a piece of my heart fractures.
“So you’ve made your choice.” His words are a statement, void of accusation and rife with conclusion. Despite the decision not being mine to make, it matters to him that my heart knows what it wants. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he takes a step backward, and my palm falls from his chest.
“Liam, please…” Unsure of what I can say to erase the pain on his face, I wring my hands, struggling for an explanation. “I…I’m so sorry.”
And that’s when he wipes the hurt from his face, expression softening in the morning sunlight. “I know you are.” He drags a hand through his coppery hair, and as his gaze zeroes in on Sebastian, the frosty edge returns to those brown eyes. “You have until tonight to return with the queen.”