Page 94 of Resisting the Billionaire

My hands find their way to each other again, gripping so tightly I’m afraid I might break a bone. “Gabriel, you’ve been drinking tonight. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying.” He crowds in closer and I take a step back, hitting the railing along the edge of the elevator car. His cologne hits my nose, the scent teasing me, drawing me forward, but I stay firm. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you,” he continues, his voice dark, hypnotic. “Never been so completely under someone’s spell.” He leans down, his breath warm. “I’m in love with you.”

I clutch the railing behind me, closing my eyes in the wake of his intensity, the devotion on his face. He cups my cheek, his hand steady, and I can’t help my body’s response to lean into his touch. “I’m trying to protect you,” I whisper. “Protect both of us.”

“I don’t need protection. I just need you.”

He bends down further, his lips a breath away, waiting for me to make the final move.

But I won’t. Not when I can smell the wine on his breath. Not when I glance up and spy a camera in the top corner of the elevator, recording everything we’re doing. And definitely not when the car stops on the twenty-ninth floor to let in a group of hotel guests.

I step further back before the doors fully open, into a socially acceptable distance from him as four people pour in to take up all the remaining space. We’re silent as we head down, his thumb tapping heavily on his leg, mouth a grim slash across his face.

He lets the group exit first as we reach the ground floor and takes my arm in a loose hold as he guides me to a door on the right that saysBusiness Center. Two empty tables with rows of computers stand in the middle of the room, with comfortable lounge seating placed against the walls and a printer over in the corner.

We’re alone, but that doesn’t mean someone couldn’t walk in at any moment. Then again, they’d have to get past Gabriel, who stands guard against the door, arms crossed across his chest so tightly his biceps flex.

No, not the biceps.

“Are you holding me captive?”

He narrows his eyes at me. “No, I’m continuing our conversation.”

I mimic his pose, though I’m sure the sight of me crossing my arms isn’t nearly so imposing. “What else is there to say?”

His brow furrows further down. “What’s there to say? How about you love me too? That you need me just as much?”

“Gabriel,” I shout, suddenly at my wit’s end. “You are gettingmarriedtomorrow. We can’t continue this anymore.”

“It’s for show,” he growls, using the same argument again. “It’s not like it’s a real marriage.”

“In the eyes of the law, and most importantly, your father, that’s what it is.”

“I said I would call it off.”

“And I said I can’t let you do that.”

“Then what are we going to do?”

I look down at the floor so I won’t have to see his face for this next part. “I thought we’d stay friends, but-”

“No buts,” he interrupts in a hard voice.

“But I don’t think that’s possible,” I finish, gripping my arms tightly. “Maybe we shouldn’t see each other anymore.” It was one thing when he was calm and stopped by my apartment with dessert, but if every time will be like this, us fighting our attraction to each other - and in his case failing - I won’t be able to take it. I only have so much willpower.

“That’s not an option.” His voice is as low as I’ve ever heard it, nearly guttural. “You are the one good thing in my life. You make all the rest of this bearable. I can’t go through this knowing I’m losing you.”

I turn away, wiping at my eyes. “It’s what makes the most sense,” I whisper. “You keep your money and family, my business takes off.”

“Those things are more important to you than what we have?”

My knees wobble, the weight of this damnresponsibilitynearly overwhelming. Why do I have to be the bad guy here? I thought we were on the same page before, that he understood where I was coming from. That I’m being strong just as much for him as I am for me.

I’ve known him for a little over a month, I remind myself. I can’t change my whole life, my whole course of action, for someone else. Past Mackenzie would slap me silly if she knew all the blood, sweat, and tears she poured into Sweet Events would be thrown away for a guy.

Even if I do love him.

“Gabriel,” I say slowly, turning back toward him, refusing to meet his eye. “I want you to seriously consider what you’re proposing would do for our futures. How it would alter our lives. The repercussions. And besides all that, you had at least four glasses of wine at dinner. I watched you. I can’t trust you won’t have a change of heart in the morning, that you won’t be thinking clearly then.”

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