Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
And I’m standing on air.
Chapter
Twenty
HUGH
My brain slams to a halt, every thought snuffed out by the press of my lips against hers. Lauren. Her taste floods me, sweet like honey, clean like spring rain, and it’s… impossible to understand.
I’ve kissed my share of beautiful women, a collection of fleeting thrills, but this—this is a lightning strike searing through my veins, leaving my body stunned yet alive with shivers that race up my spine. I shouldn’t push, I know it. Push too hard, and she’ll bolt, gone forever, a wild thing slipping through my gates. But by God, did I kiss her to hold and tether her to me, or to know how she tastes? I don’t know anymore. All I know is I’m drowning in her, and it’s not enough.
My grip on her waist tightens, instinctive, desperate, like I’m scared she’ll vanish if I let go. It was meant to be merely a taster, but now I’m pouring everything into it—heart, soul, the ache I’ve buried since she showed up here. Something tells me this is it, the last time, I’m sure of it. She’ll hate me after this, and I’ll deserve it. My tongue strokes hers, slow, deliberate, savoring every second, and she moans. A soft, broken sound that breaks in my mouth, and I nearly lose it. A growl trapped in my chest escapes.
It’s too much. Too real.
We pull apart, her gasping breaths mingle with mine, warm and ragged. Our eyes lock, hers wide, stormy, and for a moment, we’re suspended—two people caught in a current, no land in sight. Then she shoves me, hard, almost violently, and reality crashes back.
I turn away quickly, my chest heaving, because I can’t let her see… this. Vulnerability, raw and unfamiliar, clawing at me. I’ve never felt so out of control, so exposed, like she’s peeled back the protective layers I’ve diligently built over the years. I rake a hand through my hair, forcing my breathing to steady, and summon a smile. It’s practised, part of my mask. I turn back, ready to play the part, but her face stops me cold. Shock, pure and unguarded, etches her features, her lips parted like she’s trying to speak but can’t. She looks away, her hands fumbling, and then she’s moving out the door, her steps quick, but I can see she’s fighting the urge to run.
I stand there, rooted to the spot, the orangery too bright, too quiet without her. I thought the kiss would break her, soften her edges, maybe even calm her fire. But it’s me who’s cracked open, raw and reeling. It doesn’t feel like a win. It feels like I’ve opened Pandora’s box and unleashed something feral and unstoppable. My legs carry me to the seat she vacated. I sink into it. The cushion is still warm, and I stare at the barely touched food.
Food’s the last thing I want. I want her—her face, her voice, her defiance. She’s burned into my mind, so vivid I could reach out and touch her, feel the heat of her skin again.
What the hell is this? I’ve had models, heiresses, Princesses, women famous for their beauty and style, but none have left me like this; trembling on the edge of something vast, terrifying. Was it ever the cottage and its land? All this time chasing it, was it ever about that?
Or was it her—watching her fight, her eyes flashing, her stubborn heart refusing to bend? I lean back, rubbing my face, and the truth hits like a punch: I don’t give a rat’s ass about the land. Maybe in the beginning, but from the moment she rose out of that cloud of dust, it was her, always her, pulling me in like gravity, and now I’m spiraling out of control.
My phone buzzes, shattering the haze. Athena’s name flashes on the screen. I respond, my voice flat. “Yeah?”
“The documents you need to sign have arrived at the manor,” she says, crisp, efficient. “Mrs. O’Brien has signed for them. Take your time, but if they could be done today and sent back, I’d greatly appreciate it.”
“OK, sure,” I mutter, my mind half-gone, still tangled in Lauren’s scent.
She pauses, her tone shifting. “Are you alright? You sound… off.”
“Everything’s fine,” I lie briskly and hang up. I toss the phone on the table and slump deeper into the chair. Nothing’s fine. My plan was simple: seduce her, charm her, get the land. But now? I’m the one unraveling, my control slipping like sand out of my tightly clenched fist. Do I keep going? Push harder, play the game? Or walk away before I lose more than I bargained for?
But I don’t want to walk away. I want her. It’s the chase, I tell myself. Her rejection, her fire—that’s what’s got me hooked. Nothing serious, just a spark to toy with while I’m here. After all, she’s as caught as I am, susceptible, and that levels the field. No need to call it off. It’s fun, isn’t it? The dance, the tension, the way she fights me tooth and nail. I’ll keep going, but I’ll keep my emotions locked tight. Love’s a fool’s trap, a mess of sloppy emotions no one sane needs.