Page 32 of His Untouchable Heart

"Stay with me," he whispered, his plea wrapped in the promise of something deeper.

All the worries that had plagued me—the gallery, the vault, the lies I hadn’t yet told—faded into the background, rendered insignificant by the intensity of his presence. For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel like a woman caught in the middle of something dangerous, a pawn in a game I didn’t fully understand. I felt wanted, seen, and cherished in a way that transcended physicality.

"Gabrielle," Anthony's voice was a soft caress, "you are everything I didn't know I needed."

In Anthony’s arms, beneath the weight of his gaze and the press of his body, I found something I hadn’t dared to hope for—an acceptance that went beyond the circumstances that had brought us together. In that moment, I felt not just wanted, but perhaps, even loved. His hand trailed down, reaching to caress my most sensitive spot, and we both exploded in one mutual orgasm, a climax that bound us even closer.

"I never want this to end," I whispered breathlessly as we lay entwined, the world outside forgotten.

"Neither do I," he replied, his voice filled with a certainty that wrapped around me like a warm embrace.

As our breathing returned to normal, the fire settled into a slow burn, throwing soft amber light across the wooden beams overhead. I lay curled against Anthony’s chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing grounding me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. His fingers skimmed the bare skin along my spine, absently tracing patterns, but his touch was more comforting than suggestive now—like I belonged there.

Still, the weight of what I hadn’t told him pressed hard against my ribs.

“Anthony…” I whispered.

He shifted just enough to look down at me, eyes shadowed but alert. “Yeah?”

“There’s something I need to tell you. About Curtain.”

His jaw tightened. Just the name changed the temperature in the room.

I sat up slightly, the sheet slipping from my shoulders as I hugged my knees. “He came to see me. At the gallery. It wasn’t a friendly visit.”

Anthony pushed up on one elbow, his gaze narrowing. “When?”

“Yesterday, while you were visiting the judge. He said… he saw us that day, and he has a piece of art that has questionable origins he acquired from a client. Something big. He wants me to help him find a buyer. Quietly. Off the books.” I swallowed; the fear sharp against my tongue. “He threatened to expose us if I didn’t cooperate.”

He was silent for a beat too long. Then: “Bastard.”

“I didn’t tell him anything. I swear. But I think he knows I’m not just some sales associate.”

Anthony sat up fully now, the sheet pooling at his waist. “I never trusted him. Not for a second. But what could I do? The judge assigned him to oversee the Devereux case. He’s had a front-row seat to everything from day one—like a vulture waiting for something to die.”

I looked at him, really looked—at the tension in his shoulders, the set of his mouth. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you sooner.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with him alone at all.”

Silence stretched between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Just heavy with what-ifs.

“I want you to stay here,” he said finally. “At least for now.”

I blinked. “Here? In the cabin?”

He nodded. “It’s remote. Secure. If Curtain’s pressuring you, we can’t risk him making a move while I’m not around. I’ll go into the foundation tomorrow, business as usual. But you stay here. Where I can protect you.”

I should’ve argued. But the truth was—I didn’t want to leave.

“Okay,” I whispered, settling back into the curve of his arm. “I’ll stay. I would rather be here with you than anywhere else.”

He kissed my forehead just once, then pulled the blanket over us both. Within minutes, his breathing deepened, slow and even.

That’s when my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I didn’t have to look to know where it was from.

Switzerland.

I reached for it slowly, the glow harsh in the darkness. A single preview line lit up the screen.

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