Page 49 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
Isaac’s eyes stray to mine the instant he walks into the room. His anger is still visible in his slitted gaze. I scan his body and sigh noisily when I notice he doesn’t have any physical damage to his body.
My steps toward him halt when he roughly shakes his head and exits the room as quickly as he arrived. When I dash after him, Cormack grasps my elbow, stopping me.
“You won’t get anything out of him, Izzy,” Cormack warns, his tone as low as my heart rate. “He locks up his emotions tighter than Fort Knox.”
“Then, you either tell me what’s going on, or I’ll force him to tell me.” My tone tells him I’m not kidding. I want answers, and I want them now.
“Then, you’ll lose him forever.” Cormack’s tone is as bitter as the bile sitting in my throat.
Tears well in my eyes so fast they burn from the sudden rush of moisture.
Spotting my dour expression, Cormack says, “I haven’t seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you in years. Not since Ophelia, but if you force his hand, you’ll lose him, Izzy.”
My eyes dance between Cormack’s, silently pleading for more information.Who’s Ophelia? What does it mean that he looks at me differently? Was it Ophelia who forced Isaac’s hand previously? Is Isaac as captivated with me as I am with him?
“If he wants you to know, he will tell you himself,” Cormack responds to my wordless interrogation.
I’ve been tossing and turning in bed nonstop the past several hours. My body is still relishing my previous orgasms, but it’s the gnawing pit twisting my chest that’s keeping me awake. There was palpable tension between Col and Isaac, but it seemed to be so much more than just rivalry. Their hate for each other is personal and goes much deeper than some stupid mob turf war.
I stiffen when the hinges on the old wooden door in my room creak. My pupils widen when Isaac strides into the room. He’s still wearing the same three-piece suit he was wearing at dinner. I remain quiet as he removes his shoes and jacket. My pulse quickens when he continues undressing until he’s wearing nothing but a pair of black boxers.
I squeal when he slides in between the sheets and flips me over. His hand splays across my stomach, pulling me back toward him. My curvy backside snuggles in close to his erect crotch, and his bare chest heats my barely covered back.
“No questions, just sleep, Isabelle.”
I don’t know how he expects me to sleep. Not only are there hundreds of questions running through my head, I feel his monstrous manhood grinding my backside. Sensing my reluctance, Isaac glides his hand up and down my arm in a soothing motion. Over time, my blinking lengthens, and my breathing slows until I fall blissfully asleep.
I don’t need to open my eyes to know Isaac isn’t in the room with me. The aura of a man like him permeates the air. His power, his stature, his importance—it’s all something you feel, not visualize. That’s how I know he left the room hours ago.
Sluggishly opening my eyes, I stretch my arms out in front of my body, which is still adoring the two toe-curling orgasms I had last night. Although Isaac’s confrontation with Col filtered through my mind all night long, I had the most restful sleep I’ve ever had. Two consecutive mind-blowing climaxes shattered me, rendering me physically exhausted. Then being snuggled into Isaac had me sleeping like a baby.
I climb out of bed and head into the expansive guest bathroom attached to my impressive suite. My toes grip the plush, luxurious carpet pile as I increase my strides, the shower beckoning me to it. I take my time shampooing my hair with the deliciously fragrant toiletries supplied.
Spurts of warm water slide down my face before stopping and clinging to my top lip. All the forbidden images of Isaac nipping, lashing, and tasting my mouth come rushing back to the forefront. When my tongue darts out to lick my top lip, I can still taste him on my skin.
My leisurely shower becomes hurried, my urge to see Isaac outweighing my love of long, heavenly showers. I dry myself with a plush towel before running my fingers through my shampooed hair and securing it into a messy bun. Because of my late awakening, the temperature has already heated up enough to know I’ll be either spending the majority of my day in the coolness of the sea breeze or by the grotto pool.
Turning my eyes to my suitcase, I catch a glimpse of my minuscule bikini hanging on the railing in the bathroom.Maybe it will aid in releasing Isaac’s tension from last night?
Once I’m dressed in a pair of tiny cotton shorts, a bikini top, and a crushed natural linen blouse I’ve left open at the front, I exit my suite. Compared to the constant bustle of the main house yesterday, today it’s eerily quiet. I move through the vast rooms of the palatial McGregor residence, seeking any other signs of life.
A hive of activity sounds through a pair of French doors attached to the rec room. Upon exiting, I notice a substantial buffet has been set up on the paved patio next to the pool. I spot Harlow, Cormack, Cate, and Colby gathered around a wrought iron table enjoying the splendor of croissants, fresh fruit, pastries, and coffee.
Harlow smiles and motions for me to join them at the table. Returning her smile, I signal that I’ll join them once I have my required morning caffeine fix in my hot little hands.
I nearly drop my mug of freshly brewed coffee when ‘Isabelle’ rolls off a tongue that had me quivering last night.
Isaac is standing so close, I’m trapped between his firm body and the buffet table. His elongated cock is felt through my thin cotton shorts, and his delicious scent lingers in my nostrils.
Air catches in my throat when he snags a croissant off the table, his forearm skimming the side of my boob on the way past.
Raising my eyes, I catch him smirking down at me. He winks before striding away, his cockiness uncontained. I’m unable to move from my spot, frozen in place with desire. When he enters the French doors without a backward glance, I sigh, disturbed by my lack of self-control when he’s in my presence.
Once the shred of dignity I barely hold is collected, I mosey to the table where everyone is gathered.
“Holy fuck,” Colby murmurs under his breath.
I’m pretty sure his comment is directed at me, considering the fact he’s staring at me with his mouth opened wide, his eyes roaming over my body. Colby stumbles out of his chair, tripping over his own feet. Once he regains his footing, he gestures for me to sit in the chair he was sitting in.
