Page 39 of The Reluctant Wife

"Oh," I squeak and hold onto him. He strides out of the kitchen like I weigh nothing. And how I love that. I am not defensive about my curves, but I also know I don’t fit the conventional picture of a rail thin, Disney princess either. I dress to show off my curves. And have made it my mission to support charities that help women with self-esteem issues. We don’t owe the world how we look, but sometimes, it’s difficult to hold onto our self-confidence when the media dictates that we look a certain way.

"I can walk," I murmur.

"Let me take care of you."

19

Ryot

I carry her to her bed, and tuck her in. When I turn to leave, she catches my wrist. "Stay with me?”

She stares at me from under eyelids which are heavy with desire and laced with a satiation I’m responsible for. A tightness tugs at my lower belly. A melting sensation squeezes my chest. The sensations feel deep. And so very real. So very uncomfortable. I don’t dare put a name to it. Instead, I choose my words carefully.

"I’m not strong enough to stop myself when it comes to you. And if I go any further, if I allow myself to take what you offer, I will be no good at protecting you." I give in to the plea in her eyes and sit down next to her.

I’m fighting a losing battle when it comes to resisting her. It’s frustrating, but also a relief to admit this to myself and to her. Doesn’t resolve this conflict I have of my personal feelings versus my professional role.

“I can’t understand why you think if you fuck me it’s going to impair your efficiency.” She scowls. “Personally, I think you’re using it as an excuse because you already know that you’re falling for me." She releases her hold on my wrist, and it’s my turn to grab hers.

I twine my fingers through hers, knowing even this little show of affection is a weakness, but I’m unable to hold back. The anger on her face, the frustration in her features, and that hint of sadness in her eyes tug at my heart. I know she’s right. Iamalready involved with her—I have been since I saw her at the bar, where she claimed to be my wife. For a few moments there, I allowed myself to be transported to a reality where she was mine, and it had felt so right. I wanted it to be true, which is why I kissed her back. But then she left, and I didn’t think I’d see her again. Until I realized she was to be the principal.

"I could have backed off the moment I realized you were the person I was assigned to protect, but I didn’t."

Her forehead furrows. "I don’t understand."

I’m irritated with myself for being so attracted to her, wanting to resist her, but being unable to do so, and paying the price for it by putting her in danger. I allowed her to distract me and look how that turned out. She was almost shot. If something had happened to her, I’d have never forgiven myself.

A bit too late for morals, given I also spanked her. And God help me, I enjoyed it more than I should. I’m on a slippery slope when it comes to her. Question is, can I make a last-ditch attempt to stick to my principles? For her sake? For her safety?

"You might think I could both fuck you and protect you, but the two cannot go hand in hand. My ability to keep you safe depends on my being able to make quick, impersonal decisions, and once it gets personal—once it gets more personal than what it is now—I'm of no good to you."

"So, you’re saying?—"

"I’m saying that I knew I was attracted to you, and it would have been best if I'd turned down the role of your bodyguard. But the thought of anyone else spending all that time with you was not something I could stomach."

Her forehead clears. A small smile plays around her lips. "You were jealous?"

I incline my head. "I knew no one else could take care of you better than me. And I wanted the opportunity to, at least, be able to see you every day." I rub my thumb across the tender skin over her wrist and feel the beating of her pulse. "But the moment we fuck, I lose the ability to be objective. Do you understand?"

She scoffs.

“It would be normal for you to feel emotions for me under the charged situations that we've been thrown into. You’ve been under a lot of pressure, and it was telling on you. You needed… A way to blow off steam."

"Blow off steam." She tugs on her hand and this time, I release it. "You thought I needed to blow off steam?" Her voice is soft. Her blue eyes turn icy.

Fuck, I’m definitely not handling this right.

"Look"—I hold up my hands—"the threats on your life are causing you to reach out to someone who you think can protect you?—"

"Which is you?"

I nod. "And it’s normal to feel things more deeply. All the more reason for us to keep our distance."

"Even after you spanked me?" she asks in a low tone.

"Especially after I spanked you. I saw you naked; it took me by surprise." I can’t stop my gaze from straying down her body, covered by the duvet which is unable to hide her curves completely. "I realized the images from what happened earlier were not letting you sleep.” I rub the back of my neck. “You wereso tense, so unhappy. You were hurting, I knew I could help you.” I lean back. “I did it the only way I knew."

"By whipping me with your belt?" She tips up her chin, a defiant look on her face.

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