Page 23 of Secret Bump

I don’t understand.

“Mack,” I growl. “Stop calling me Mr. Emerson. I’m not your boss, I’m?—”

“So I’m fired?” Her eyes glitter.

“What? No.”

“Then youaremy boss. And I am your employee, nothing else.”

“Notnothing else. You are my everything.”

“Sure doesn’t feel like it!” She throws her hands in the air, and her dress shifts across her body. There’s something about her that looks different, something about the cut of the dress and the way it drapes across her midsection that teases me, making me think of how she would look swollen with my baby.

In the limo, she asked about protection.

Neither of us wants anything between us, ever, so of course I have to think about what that might lead to…and I want it. Not in some illicit way like she assumes, not as a secret affair by-product, but making her my wife. My equal. My everything…but I clearly haven’t shown her enough to make her believe that.

“Then let me take you home. To my home,” I quickly add. “And let me show you how I want it to be our home. Of course there’s no bed here, little one. I know I haven’t shown you that I have any restraint so far, but that will change. I can be the man you want.”

“I don’t believe you. I didn’t want you to hide yourself in your work! I didn’t want this!” Her voice goes tight, her eyes blazing now. Hurt radiates off her. “I wanted to work beside you. I wanted your attention. I wanted you to see me. I just wantedyou.And you didn’t want me back.”

The full realization of what I’ve done to her slams into me like a freight train.

Horror rolls through me.

I ignored her for three months.

I denied her our connection.

“I do,” I say hoarsely. “I want all of that. I want to work beside you.”

“You literally bought me a business on the other side of town.” She sounds so hurt. So fragile.

“Not for you to work at. Not if you don’t want to. This is…” I swallow hard. “Think of this like a dowry. That’s all. I thought it would make you happy, and give you the safety and security to accept me as your equal, so it can be your choice to work for me, with me, or not. I want your attention, too. Desperately.”

Her gaze is still wary, her eyes big and doubting. She shifts back and forth on her feet, and doesn’t respond.

“I need to hold you, Isabelle,” I say, try to say everything and anything to fix this mistake. “It’s killing me to be this close and yet so far from you.”

“I told you?—”

“That you wouldn’t like it if I pawed at you. I heard that. I won’t forget, I promise. But that wasn’t what I asked.” I press my luck and hold out my hand. “Do you need a hug?”

Fear ripples across her face, clear as day.

I should feel like a bastard for pressing her on all fronts, knowing she can’t lie to me.

“I’ve been so lonely.” I let my voice be as raw as my insides feel. “Never felt that way before you. Went decades without caring if I ever held another person. And then I met you and everything changed. I think it’s the same for you, too.”

She shakes her head. “No.”

Pain slices through me sharper than a surgeon’s scalpel.

I drop my hand.

My head follows.

“Ialwayswanted to be held,” she whispers. “And then I met you and realized I’d been waiting my whole life to be held by you.”

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