Page 116 of By His Vow

It was those words, and those words only, that made me walk into the guest room and gently sit on the edge of the bed beside her.

It took more restraint than I’m willing to even think about to only reach out and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

What I really wanted to do was brush my fingertips over her cheek to find out if her skin was as soft as it looked and then drag the sheets from her body to see what she was wearing beneath.

I know what Miles said was true. I know she needs me to be gentle with her despite how she acts. It’s a front, a facade to make it look like she’s coping.

She is not coping.

Since the moment Miles said those words to me yesterday, I regretted how I spoke to her in front of Kian and Liam. But I saw red when she accused me of controlling her life. I was trying to do something nice…

I pause before reaching for the door handle.

She’s inside and hopefully ready for the night ahead.

Despite my suspicions that she’d turn everyone away, I’ve had confirmation from each of her appointments that they went smoothly.

That means she should be ready.

I’m late. I hoped I wouldn’t be, but my last meeting of the day ran over, so now I’m left with only twenty minutes before we need to leave for the gala.

Rolling my shoulders, I attempt to brace myself for what I’m about to be faced with.

As well as missing her last night, she also didn’t emerge from the guest room before I left this morning.

She’s giving me the cold shoulder, and I don’t fucking like it.

The second I step into my apartment, her sweet scent assaults me. It makes my mouth water.

“Honey, I’m home,” I shout, shaking my head as I say those unbelievable words. I never wanted a serious relationship like this. I knew that, ultimately, I’d have to settle down eventually. Callahan Enterprises will need a next generation at some point. But I was nowhere near ready for that shit.

But right now, I can’t deny that something feels very, very right about coming home to Tatum, even if there’s a very high chance that something unbelievably hard and painful might just come flying toward my head.

I’ve no idea why the thought of her being so violent brings a smile to my face, but as I walk down the hallway in search of her, I can’t fight it.

That is, until I see her standing at the windows, looking out over the city wrapped in a stunning, fitted gold dress.

“Oh shit.” I gasp, my eyes tracing the lines of her body, my cock swelling in an instant.

She stills but otherwise doesn’t react to my presence.

“You’ve got fifteen minutes,” she says coldly, refusing to face me.

“That’s ten more than I need. Turn around,” I demand.

She doesn’t move.

“Look,” I say softly, knowing that I need to be the bigger man here, “I’m sorry, okay? I thought I was doing something nice by arranging today. I knew you didn’t want to come, so I thought the least I could do was?—”

“Thank you,” she says, interrupting my apology. When I look up, my eyes collide with the reflection of hers in the window and my breath catches.

I’ve no idea what this…this thing is between us, but it’s potent, powerful, and it doesn’t seem to be diminishing.

“I appreciate what you’ve done. I just wish you didn’t spring it on me like you did. If you’d have just told me instead of blindsiding me with it?—”

“You wouldn’t have agreed,” I point out confidently.

She chuckles. “Probably not, no,” she concedes.

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