Page 118 of Desperate Actions

Then I slide out first, walking around the SUV to open her door myself.

I don’tneed to.

But Ineed to.

I can’t help myself.

This woman makes me feral. Like I have to be the one to touch every door she opens, to be the first person at her side, to watch every goddamn step she takes.

I can’t go inside with her.

I want to.

But I know Aella. She needs to do this for herself.

So I don’t follow her to her office.

I don’t walk out with her onto the nineteenth floor, even though it kills me not to be the one shielding her from every asshole in this building who’s about to meet her.

But I do pull her close.

And I kiss her.

It’s supposed to be quick. A brief press of my lips to hers, nothing more.

But the second our mouths meet, she sighs into me, and I feel the way her entire body reacts. Like she belongs here. With me.

I pull back, whispering against her lips, “I’ll see you later.”

A promise.

She nods, her eyes glazed, pupils blown, and when she takes a step inside the elevator, I don’t close the doors just yet.

I wait.

Watching the sway of her hips, the way her heels click against the marble.

Then she hesitates. Turns around, blinking.

“Oh! Um, Andrea is stopping by for lunch with some of the girls,” she says.

I nod, understanding.

It’s probably for the best.

Because if I have lunch with her? I’ll want to fuck her.

And fucking her here, in this building, surrounded by our family and friends?

She’s not ready for that.

Not yet.

But soon.

Because hiding my feelings for Aella isn’t an option anymore.

These last few days—marrying her, claiming her, telling her I love her—have changed everything.

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