Page 54 of Reveal Me
‘What the fuck are you doing here withhim?’ I rake my fingers through my hair and pace the small space.
Her eyes narrow. ‘I’m notwithhim. I’d never bewithhim. I’mwithyou. Even if it’s limited to the confines of your club.’ Her voice shakes with the same despair that’s bleeding into my veins. She tilts her head up to meet mine. ‘Do you think I want to be here?’ She demands incredulously. ‘This is one of those formal duties I told you about. My mother is basically a pimp dressed in pearls. She won’t be happy until she’s secured the highest price for me.’
I blow out a breath. ‘Do you know how sick it makes me feel, watching that fucker pawing at you?’
‘I can imagine.’ Her voice cracks with the same raw need that vibrates inside me. ‘I get that it’s a shock running into each other outside of the club, believe me, it’s just as heart-wrenching seeing you out tonight too, knowing I have no right to touch you, to be with you. I bet women are throwing themselves at you left, right and centre and I wouldn’t blame them.’
‘This is all wrong.’ The realisation hits me like a blow to the chest. This is my doing–partly, anyway. Because I can’t risk a real relationship. Then again, the princess wouldn’t want one–not with me, anyway. Would she? She said the Queen is determined to set her up with someone with a title. I’m pretty sure “Ireland’s most eligible billionaire” doesn’t count.
Her eyes rake over my shoulders before meeting my gaze again. ‘It does feel wrong, but the contract stipulates I can’t be with other Dominants, not out on staged duties with the opposite sex. Believe me when I say, this is all this is.’
‘Ashworth couldn’t dominate a donkey.’ I spit. ‘And I bet the ginger fucker has tried.’ She reaches for me, but I sidestep.
‘Please, don’t.’ My voice is wary. I move to the sidebar and open the champagne to avoid looking at her, because every time I do, I’m reminded what she is. What I’m not. That we can never be. Not out here in the real world. I shouldn’t have broken my own hard limits. Shouldn’t have kissed her. Shouldn’t have let her into my club, or into my heart.
‘I would never betray you, Sean. I’d never do whatshedid. This entire evening is to appease my mother.’ Her tone is softer now. ‘You have no reason to be hurt, and no right to be angry with me.’
My hands still on the bottle. I turn slowly, ‘You’re absolutely correct, Princess. I have no right to anything concerning you outside those club walls. We pretend I’m in charge, because it gets you off, but we both know the score in the real world.’
‘Last time I checked, it got you off too?—’
‘Look, forget it.’ I shake my head.
I can’t tell her how I feel about her. Can’t tell her that seeing her with another man is as painful as having a knife slice my chest open.
‘It’s all just a fleeting bit of fun for you. It’s a lifestyle choice for me.’ I pour two glasses of champagne, hand her one, and down the other.
‘I told you already, Sean, I don’t have any life choices.’ She shakes her head, sadly. ‘My parents are insisting I get engaged before my next birthday.’
‘What?’ The thought sends another irrational surge ofjealousy through my stomach.Her birthday is only seven months away. I know, because I Googled the ever living shit out of Princess Layla the night she stumbled into my club, and almost every night since.
‘Of course they are. Marriage strengthens relations, raises public interest, and produces royal heirs.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘If I don’t put on a convincing performance with someone “suitable” in Ireland, my parents will send the plane for me. Now Patricia is married off, and Sabrina is engaged, the heat is on me. I am the sole focus of my mother’s unwanted attention.’
‘Do you want to get married?’ I reach for her hand now, unable to stop myself. Her proximity, her scent, her skin—everything about her draws me in. Instinctively my fingers trace circles on her skin. Her gaze drops, and we both watch as goosebumps ripple beneath my touch.
‘Yes, but I want to marry for love. I refuse to settle for… less,’ she admits.
So the princess is looking for a love match.
It’s uncommon in families like hers. And utterly unlikely. An ache forms in my chest—for her, and for me. I don’t even know if I could do the relationship thing, but something about her makes me want to try. But even if I could get over myself, I’d never be a good enough match for her family.
We stare at each other for a long beat, the weight of everything I can’t say pressing down like a physical weight on my chest. The urge to kiss her is all-consuming, but every time I do, I fall a little deeper.
Fall?
Oh fuck.
This can’t be happening.
I can’t let it happen.
I drop her hand, inhale deeply, then take a long sip of champagne, using the moment to rebuild my composure.
‘I better let you get back to your date, Your Highness.’ I set down my glass and straighten my cufflinks. She flinches, the formal address lands like a slap. A sliver of guilt snakes into my stomach but I can’t be here. I need to put some distance between us. I need to leave before I do something I can’t take back.
She sets down her untouched champagne and moves toward the door, pausing with her hand on the handle. ‘Sean?’
Our eyes lock. ‘Yes?’
