Page 82 of The Arrogant's Redemption

"We need to talk."

"Yes."

"I don’t think you understand, Lazarus. We need to talktoday, when I get to the apartment you’re lending us. Can you meet me there?"

"I’m not meeting you there. I’m taking you. You’re not going anywhere without me, Alexis."

"You don’t own me."

His face stays completely impassive, and for a second, I think he’s not going to say anything. But then he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Not yet," he says softly, "but I plan to change that very soon."

Lazarus

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

"I could’ve askedmy mom for help," she says as I lift her into the wheelchair.

"I can do it," I reply.

Marla is still outside, talking to William in the hallway, while Athanasios was called away to handle an emergency.

"When I said we needed to talk, I meant it, Lazarus."

"LJ."

"You once said your friends called you that. I was never your friend. I never had the chance to be. I just . . .”

I had promised myself I’d take it easy, but I’ve been holding back for over a month, touching her only professionally—except for when I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear a few minutes ago.

But I have a limit—and it’s just been crossed.

I lean down over her in the chair, and I can see her shrink back, knowing exactly what’s coming. Still, her eyes drop to my mouth.

I cup her face with both hands—the same face that’s haunted me for almost two years, my longing for her toying with my sanity. "You’re beautiful, Alexis."

"Don’t say that to me. I hate you, LJ. I don’t care if your sister lied. You never came back and?—"

"You’re wrong. I never left. I never left that house, that weekend."

When my mouth falls on hers, Alexis goes rigid. But the tension doesn’t last. Soon, those long, delicate fingers are caressing my forearm, responding to the kiss with the same wild, uncontrollable passion that always exploded between us whenever we were near each other.

We’re fire together, and the brief contact of our skin proves the flames never went out, despite time and distance.

Our lips and tongues say what words never could. The undeniable desire consumes us, pushing away doubts and heartache, leaving only hunger and longing.

The blood in my veins roars to life again, as if I’ve been dead until this moment—until having her back in my arms.

At first, the kiss is slow, a dance exploring the shape and texture of each other’s mouths. But the explosive chemistry between us is unstoppable, quickly turning it into a desperate search for satisfaction, pulling us into a place that’s intimate, secret, sacred—where nothing exists except our connection.

I didn’t plan to ambush her, but now that I have her where I want her, I can’t let her pull away, can’t give up the taste of her.

My need, once contained, becomes urgent, and I lift her from the chair, pressing her against me.

Alexis moans my name, her hands threading through my hair, pulling me closer, like she’s trying to merge her body with mine.

We may be strangers in many ways, but we’re also lovers who know each other—because what we shared that weekend meant more to me than any relationship I’ve ever had.

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