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“You know damn well this isn’t a game to me,” Elijah says. “Have you been drinking?”

I shake my head, but it’s an obvious lie. The smell of whiskey is wafting off of me at this point.

He grasps the back of my neck and crushes his lips against mine. I let out a startled gasp, which allows his tongue to plunge inside, claiming my mouth. Hungrily. Fiercely. My knees go weak, any shred of resistance melting away as I cling to his broad shoulders to stay upright.

I meant to yell, to rage, but now… the rough drag of his stubble, the firm planes of his chest pressing against my softer curves, the scorching heat of his rough hands grasping my hips to pull me flush against him, my anger melts away. I’m powerless, only wanting more...

By the time he finally breaks for air, I’m panting and flushed, my body humming with desire.

“Still just business?” he rasps against my swollen lips.

Shut up and keep kissing me.

Elijah trails his mouth along my jaw, nipping as he descends to my neck. I tip my head back, eyes fluttering shut, and a small moan escapes me as his teeth graze my skin. He nuzzles the tender spot beneath my ear.

“I dare you to say it again.”

I can’t because... it never feels like only business. And it never will. Not with the way my body craves his touch, the way my core clenches at his mere proximity.

My breath hitches as his hands slip under my shirt, palms skimming along my waist. I can’t win against him. Arousal and shame churning inside me.

“That’s what I thought.” His fingertips dance close to the underside of my bra.

I know I should stop this. Push him away and storm out like I intended. But God help me. I can’t bring myself to end it. Not when every nerve in my body screams for more of his touch. More of him.

Elijah’s thumbs brush the underside of my breasts, wrenching another breathy moan from my lips.

“You want this. Want me.” It’s not a question.

Don’t. Do not give in. “Yes.” The admission bursts out, uncontrollable and unrestrained.

He growls and claims my mouth again. I cling to him, kissing him back, my body overruling all rational thoughts.

Elijah backs me against the wall, hands digging into my skin.

Somewhere in the lust-fogged recesses of my mind, I know this is wrong. Reckless. He’s engaged, for God’s sake.

I put a hand on his chest. “Would you break it off with Esther if I asked you to?”

Elijah’s hands halt. “Why do you ask that?”

“Just answer the question. Please.”

A muscle ticks in his chiseled jaw, but he doesn’t respond.

“I see.” I peer down.

“It’s not that simple.”

My gaze snaps back to his. “Why? Because she can give you some bullshit marriage alliance?” I shove his chest in frustration, but he doesn’t budge.

“You got plans to walk down the aisle anytime soon?”

“Is that all you care about? Finding the next Mrs. Milton to put on display?”

Elijah grabs my wrists, his eyes blazing. “You know it’s more complicated than that.”

I wrench out of his hold. Losing his touch is like a shock of cold water. “Oh, I know exactly how this works. You’ll toss me aside the second you get bored, just like you’re doing with Esther now.” My voice cracks. “And I’ll be another warm body you used.”

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