Page 145 of The Plus One Contract

I can’t breathe.

“Yeah,” he says roughly. “I broke that one too, and I’d do it again.”

The words slam into me, knocking all the air from my lungs.

I shake my head, tears burning behind my eyes. “Nathan—”

“I moved my company’s headquarters here,” he says, voice hoarse. “Because for the first time in my life, I wanted to stay somewhere. I wanted a home, and I wanted it with you. I don’t want to keep moving, Sienna. I don’t want a life that doesn’t have you in it.” His voice cracks slightly. “I don’t expect you to believe me right away. I know I fucked up. But I’m asking you to please let me prove it.”

I say his name again, but I’m unsure if he hears it.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if I have to.” He takes another step, closing the distance, his hands gentle as they cup my face. “I’ll screw up. I’ll probably piss you off every other day, but I won’t leave again. Not unless you tell me to.”

My resolve cracks. The walls I built start crumbling under the weight of his words, the weight of everything he’s laying bare.

I reach up—just an inch—and brush my fingers against his jaw.

His breath catches, his entire body locking up like he’s afraid to move, afraid I’ll pull away.

My chest feels too tight, my pulse erratic. The urge to run and the urge to stay wage war inside me, but then I feel it—the way his hands shake against my skin and how he looks at me like he’s already lost me.

That’s what does it.

Not the speech. Not the grand gesture.

It’s the look in his eyes. The wrecked, breathlessdon’t leave me againlook.

My fingers slide from his jaw to his tie. I curl them around the fabric, tugging just enough to make him stumble closer.

“Sienna—”

I pull him down, crashing my mouth against his.

He groans against my mouth like he’s just been given back the thing he lost. His arms snap around me, holding me so tight I can hardly breathe. He kisses me like he’s starving, like this—us—was the thing he needed to breathe all along.

And for the first time in six weeks, I let myself believe him.

Fifty-Five

Six months later

Nathan

Sienna is sprawled across my bed, golden skin glowing under the moonlight streaming through the windows. My kingdom, my empire, but she’s the one who owns me.

She lies there, half-asleep, the sheet barely covering her curves. She’s my temptation and my torment all in one. I should let her rest, but I don’t. I can’t. Six months, and I still wake up every morning starving for her. Every time I touch her, it only makes me want her more.

My chest tightens with a raw, aching need as I prowl toward the bed.

Maybe she senses the shift in the air because her lashes flutter open, those blue eyes locking onto mine.

“Nathan,” she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.

I hum, trailing my fingers up her thigh. She shivers, her body arching instinctively toward my touch.

“You’re watching me again,” she says softly.

“Hard not to.” My palm glides higher. “You lie there looking like this, Sienna, and expect me to be a better man than I am?”

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