Page 145 of One Wealthy Wedding

“What?” My words are a mere whisper.

Theo blows out a breath. “He gave me twenty-four hours. He told me at the end of twenty-four hours, he would start making your life hell.”

I can’t believe this. The blood is rushing in my ears, so loud I can barely hear Theo’s words. “You left for me?”

He nods, mouth twisting. “I had to ensure that you wouldn’t ask questions. I didn’t want you to know that your father was willing to hurt you. So I told that girl to sit on my lap long enough to make sure you saw. I didn’t look at you that night, and I didn’t look back.” His face is lined with sadness. “I did what I thought I needed to do. I’m sorry, Cat. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I can’t—” My breaths are heaving. “I can’t believe this. I thought you hated me. I thought you were toying with me. I told myself I’d never be good enough for you.” I never imagined this. This devotion. This protectiveness. I didn’t deserve it from Theo, but he gave it anyway.

“I’m sorry.” He presses his head back on the couch. “I’m sorry.”

“You left to protect me,” I whisper.

“I did.” His throat works. “Do you hate me? Now that you know the truth?” He looks at me, regret written on his face.

“No. Never.” Far from it. The truth is far worse. I’m going to fall in love with Theo again, and there is no way I can keep him.

“I was a younger, stupider man.” His jaw works. “I’d go toe to toe with him today. I would. I swear to you.”

“I know you would. It’s okay,” I tell him.

“Is it?” He looks lost.

“Yes.” I press my face to his chest, breathing in his masculine scent, reveling in the way he’s firm beneath me. “And I’m sorry he forced you out of your home. You must have been scared.”

Theo relaxes under me. “I’d planned to leave anyway. That was going to be my last summer there. Forcing me out was a matter of months, really.”

“Still.” I turn my cheek so it rests over his heart. “He’s the worst person ever. And you were caught in the fallout.” Just like he is now. A better woman would make him divorce her.

Theo makes a humming sound beneath my cheek. “Want to go to bed?”

“With you?” I lift my head to look at him.

“I’m your husband, aren’t I?”

My throat tightens. For ten more months.

He gives me that panty-melting smile. “Come to bed with me, baby.”

This is a bad idea. If I pretend with him for ten more months, I’m fucked. If I let him take me to bed now, it’s just the beginning. I’ll sleep in his strong arms, and I’ll get addicted to having him around to solve my problems.

My heart might know this is a bad idea, but when Theo tugs me toward the bedroom, that wicked smile on his face, I can’t resist.

For once, I sleep straight through until sunrise, though I still wake before Theo. He’s sprawled on his back, one arm still curled around me, like he’s scared I’ll escape. The light is dim, but there’s one slice of golden sunlight where the curtains aren’t quite closed. It gilds him, glinting off the sparse hair on his chest, caressing his tan skin. The tattoo is washed in light. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m running a finger over it, tracing along his collarbone, then the edge of his pectoral, firm and smooth, then down his stomach. The ridges of muscle there were made for a woman’s hand to touch, especially the slab of muscle at his flank, right where a waistband would be. If he were wearing pants.

But he’s not, and the sheet pools temptingly around his waist, making me want to uncover what’s beneath it. My hand lingers, rubbing circles lightly above where I know he’s hot and probably hard, if the other morning is anything to go by.

His warm fingers grasp my wrist. “Keep going,” he says, sleep-rough and deliciously low. His eyes are still shut, and I can almost imagine he’s dreaming—a Greek god spread in his bed and mine for the taking.

Desire sends shivers through my stomach. I let my hand drift down. Smooth skin, then crisp hairs, then Theo. Hard already and deliciously thick. He groans as I grasp him. The sound makes me want to straddle him and see what other sounds I can get him to make. Can I make him fall apart like he did on the boat? I want him wild and out of control for me, just like I was for him.

“What item on the list is it this time?” he asks.

I want the list, and yet, I don’t. Because once everything is checked off, Theo and I are done. So instead of naming a list item, I just say, “Please, Theo.”

The words are barely out of my mouth before he surges up. He presses a hard kiss to my mouth before he forces my legs wide and bands an arm around my back.

“Ride my face, baby.”

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