Page 53 of Don't You Dare Marry Me

“You don’t need to pay me for this week.” Nicola bent down and brushed her lips against Abagail’s ear. She closed her eyes, breathing in her scent, the roughness of her short hair against Nicola’s cheek. Her heart pattered away. Was she really going to say this? Was she really going to break the hold that Abagail potentially had on her? “You’ve already paid more than enough.”

“Nicola…” Abagail dragged out her name, curling her fingers behind Nicola’s neck and holding her close.

They breathed in each other’s scents. Nicola swore she could hear Abagail’s heart thudding wildly. Abagail’s lips pressed against her jawline once and then twice.

“It was never about paying you,” Abagail murmured.

Nicola shuddered, tension she didn’t know she carried sliding away and vanishing. What was that? Nicola turned her face into Abagail, closing her eyes and just staying in this moment. How much had that actually been weighing on her?

“But you paid so much already…” Nicola objected.

Abagail tightened her grasp. “You don’t owe me anything. Do you understand?”

Nicola’s heart trembled. She stared directly into Abagail’s eyes, seeing deep into her in a way that she never had before. Nicola leaned in, pressing their mouths together. Was there a soft side to the Kerrbox family that Nicola had never experienced before? Was there a tender and caring side to Abagail?

“There are so many broken systems in our world. If a little money can ease the suffering one of those systems causes, then why not use it instead of letting it sit there?”

“Abs…” Nicola’s heart trembled.

She’d never seen this side of this woman. Any time they had encountered each other before, Abagail had a stiff upper lip and barely made a move in any direction. Brushing her fingers across Abagail’s cheek, Nicola pulled in on herself. There was so much more to Abagail than she’d anticipated.

Nicola leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Abagail’s cheek, then her other one, then her forehead. Abagail seemed to melt underneath her, but so did Nicola. Melting at the hands of this woman who was so cold and icy up front but had a sizzling, burning passion underneath. Nicola breathed in Abagail’s scent, centering herself.

“I don’t deserve someone like you,” Nicola murmured before kissing her again. “I’m not hardworking or generous. I take everything I can get and keep it.”

“Keep it?” Abagail turned Nicola’s chin upward, so they were once again looking deep into each other’s eyes. “You don’t keep it.”

Goosebumps ran up Nicola’s arms and a shiver throughout her entire body. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat.

“You give it away more freely than I do.” Abagail’s thumb moved from Nicola’s chin to her lips, brushing across them in the most tender moment the two of them had ever shared.

“I need…” Nicola stopped. Her heart was in her throat, making it so hard to speak. She tensed and pulled away, putting more weight on her heels than before. “I need a minute.”

Nicola scrambled off Abagail’s lap. She spared her one glance before dashing out of the room and straight up the stairs to the room that Abagail had given her. She shut the door and pressed her fist to her chest. Her heart pounded so hard that it hurt, her shoulders tense from the pain, and her head on the verge of exploding. What the hell was wrong with her?

This was an arrangement they’d made together. It was nothing more than that. She couldn’t possibly have found more than that in Abagail. Could she? She couldn’t have found someone who actually challenged her, cared for her, accepted her. Because Abagail Kerrbox was anything but that. She was cold, distant, hateful and vengeful even.

Nicola had seen it for years.

But this Abagail—Abs, she corrected herself.

This woman was so different from the one she’d made herself out to be, and this woman was someone that Nicola was quickly falling very hard for. Sliding onto the bed, Nicola threw her hand over her eyes to block out all the light. Her brain spun in ridiculous directions, completely unable to stop the spin and turmoil and questions.

The knock was soft, but it was enough of an intrusion that Nicola jerked. She clenched her jaw hard and stared at it.

“Nicola, can we talk a minute?”

Abagail’s voice wasn’t firm and cold, but warm and imploring. One part of Nicola told her the last thing she wanted was Abagail to come into that room and see her like this, but another part of her had such a longing to be back in Abagail’sarms and pressed against her—not sexually. Not like they’d done so many times before, but like they’d been on that couch. In each other’s spheres in a way that was far more intimate than anything else they’d done.

“Nicola?”

“Y-yes, come in.” Nicola pushed her hands into the bed and moved to sit, leaning against the headboard with her knees bent and her eyes glued to the door.

Abagail stepped inside slowly, almost hesitating for a brief second before she stepped to the edge of the bed. “May I sit?”

Nicola nodded, and immediately she found herself reaching for Abagail’s hand to curl their fingers together in a tight grasp.

“What did I say?” Abagail asked, genuinely curious.

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