Page 59 of The Forbidden Bride He Stole

The dress was beautiful. Blue and strapless and formfitting. Off the back, sheer fabric was attached at the shoulders like a cape that cascaded down in a shimmering waterfall.

On the dresser was a box, containing an elegant diamond necklace that glinted in the light.

She dressed and did her makeup, and went downstairs at the appointed time the car was set to arrive.

The drive across town was slow, the traffic in the city oppressive. But she took a moment to try and steel herself. To try and get her thoughts in order. To get her defenses back up. It was difficult to believe that only a couple of hours ago he had her naked and begging in her own office.

And now he was taking her to the opera.

The driver pulled up to the steps and she thanked him, getting out and walking up to the midway point. And then she felt heat gather at the base of her spine, and turned. There he was, standing near the street, wearing a sharply cut tuxedo, his gaze burning fire.

The crack within her heart widened. And she knew she was in trouble.

CHAPTER TWELVE

HISRESOLVEWASSTRENGTHENED. Seeing her like that. Standing there on the stairs like an angel. A vision. The most extraordinary thing he’d ever seen. She was beyond belief. His Hannah.

She had been equal parts innocent and filthy today in her office, and he had loved every moment of it. He had done a lot of thinking while he was away. Or rather, the thinking had been done for him. He had not chosen to have her on his mind every second of every moment of every day when he was trying to work, but she was.

Things had changed. While he was working on his projects with Cameron he found himself wanting to call Hannah and ask her opinion. Because he valued that opinion. Because she was brilliant and clever, and he knew from watching what she had done with the hotel chain and just the weeks since she had taken over and implemented her plans, that she would bring about a fantastic partnership between their companies. He also knew that if he were to bring ideas to her about his own business, she would likely have insightful thoughts about them.

He respected those thoughts. Was curious about them.

He had gone to a restaurant he hadn’t been to before in Paris during a summit that he and Cameron had to attend. And he had wanted to ask her what she thought about the food, and was annoyed she wasn’t there.

He had spent so much of his life in relative isolation, and normally he was used to it. But it felt strange, wrong, even to experience anything without her by his side when she could be there.

More than that, it simply wasn’t as enjoyable.

The lights from the opera house were gold behind her, and she was as lovely in that dress as he had imagined she would be. Madame Butterfly. A long-lost duchess. She could have been anything. But she was Hannah. His wife.

The ring in his pocket burned.

She had rings for her wedding to Rocco, rings that she had chosen beforehand, and he had not had one. He still was not wearing one.

He’d decided something while he was away. The marriage should not be temporary. The marriage should be permanent. They were better together. And no, he couldn’t offer her love. There was so much inside of him, fractured in the dark, floating around in the endless black sea of his soul, and there was nothing he could do about that. He didn’t love the idea of offering her a shattered mirror. He would rather she have something whole. But he was honest about it. He had told her. He felt that the overriding truth was that they were good together. Better together than apart.

And he was confident that she would see that.

They could conduct their business individually, and come back together.

In some ways, he felt that this was inevitable.

She had been part of his life for so long, and the idea of her not being in his life had never settled well. The image of what things would be like when she wasn’t with him was just... He didn’t like it. And he had lived enough life he didn’t like. He was a rich man now, powerful. Why should he make compromises? He shouldn’t. He should keep Hannah as his wife. That much was clear.

He walked up the steps toward her, and she smiled. He offered her his arm. “Come,agape. We have box seats.”

“Of course we do,” she said. “Luxury all the way.”

“It is not luxury that I was concerned with, but privacy. I do not trust myself with you.” There was a truth to that. One that went much deeper than sex. But she had done something to him. Peeled away the protections as if she had taken a knife expertly to flesh against the bone. Sex with her was not the same as sex with anyone else. He could let his guard down. He could let himself feel. He finally understood about connecting souls. It was like all the pieces of himself were united into one when the two of them came together, and it was unlike anything he had ever experienced before that. He needed it. He could not afford to lose it.

She was soft next to him, and she smelled like violets. He did not truly feel settled unless she was next to him.

Because every time they came together, it was harder and harder for him to put his defenses up afterward, and functionally he was now walking around the world without a shield. At least it felt that way to him. And that was her fault. So it was her responsibility to hold him together now.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

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