Page 13 of In Love with a Ruthless Man

When Fawn tried pulling her hand away, Grant tightened his hold on her instead. “I’m sorry,” he murmured under his breath. “I’m being overpossessive, and I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Grant.” Her heart melted at his admission, and Fawn could only shake her head, unable to believe that someone like Grant could feel so possessive about someone like her.

“Tell me you love me.”

“I do.”

“Say the words,” he teased.

“Grant!”

“Please?” He gave her a sweet, seductive look under his lashes.

She whispered shyly, “I love you.”

After, he drove her to her dorm and when he walked her to the door, he asked quietly, “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

She thought about how strangely she felt when she saw the prince and the girl making love. “N-nothing.”

And it was nothing, she told herself fiercely as she closed her eyes and accepted Grant’s sweet kiss.

“GOOD AFTERNOON, FAWN,” Noah called out from the watchtower when he spied Fawn walking past the gates, which automatically slid closed behind her.

Fawn waved back at the prince’s head of security. “Afternoon, Noah.” It had been exactly one month since she had started working here, and now the sight of men holding AKs and Steyr Augs no longer fazed her.

The driveway leading to the main house took about ten minutes by car. On foot, it took forever, especially for someone like Fawn, who hated working out.

By the time she made it to the main house, she was gasping and panting. Thankfully, she was used to this, too, which was why these days she had a water canister inside her bag. Taking it out, she flipped the lid open—-

“Aah.”Water had never tasted this good.

“Good afternoon, Fawn.”

Fawn froze.

Hand-sewn loafers. Stylish jeans. Dressy shirt.

Her gaze moved up.

Yup, it was him.

But even so, shock still had her spewing the water out, and she could only gaze in horrified fascination as every of drop of it landed on the prince’s crisply ironed shirt.

Holy crap.

Springing to life, she shoved her water canister back in her bag and hurried to the prince, mumbling, “S-sorry.” As she desperately tried patting his chest dry, she also triednotto think about how, well, hard he felt.

Because Grant’s hard, too,she reminded herself.

“It’s fine.” As the prince spoke, his large, strong hands reached out to capture hers.

Oh.

His touch burned her, and Fawn heard herself garble something out in answer.

Prince. Hands. Hers.

Clinging to the few brain cells she had left, Fawn managed to pull her hands away.

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