Page 96 of The Broken Vows

“—but what?” he interrupts, rising to his feet. Zane runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Celeste, this is too little, too late. I appreciate the apology, I really do, but it doesn’t change anything.”

My heart sinks, and I walk around his desk, fueled by desperation. “Is it?” I ask, my voice trembling. I place my palm flat on his chest, and his eyes fall closed for a moment, almost like he has to remind himself to resist my touch. It gives me hope that I’m sure he didn’t intend to instill in me. “Is it truly too late?”

His eyes snap to mine when I slowly slide my hand up and around his neck. It’s something I’ve done a thousand times, yet it never ceases to enrapture him. The way he looks at me tells me I’m right to hang on to a thread of hope.

I cup his face with my free hand, keeping his eyes on mine. “I love you,” I whisper, and emotions surge in his gaze. “Please, won’t you talk to me? I’m so incredibly sorry, Zane. I just… I was so overcome with grief, and I’d felt so betrayed, and I know that isn’t an excuse, but I…”

He sighs and wraps his hand in my hair. I lean into him, needing to be closer. “Celeste, no amount of apologies will fix what’s broken. It isn’t my intention to avoid you, I just… I don’t know what to do when you’re like this. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t give you what you need.”

My heart clenches painfully, and a sense of loss washes over me. “Let me try,” I plead. “Let me try to fix this.” He looks at me, his gaze filled with doubts, like he’s scared to go down this path with me again. “Please,” I whisper.

His forehead drops to mine, and he inhales shakily, his eyes fluttering closed. Zane freezes when I lean in and brush my lips against his, once, twice, my touch hesitant for fear he’ll pull away.

Relief rushes through me when he tightens his grip on my hair moments before his mouth comes crashing down against mine, his touch rough and tinged with the same desperation I’m feeling. I moan when I taste peppermint on his tongue and steal away his candy, earning myself a deep satisfied groan.

The way he touches me tells me it’s not too late for us yet, and I deepen our kiss, wanting to lose myself in him in the only way he’ll let me. I grab his shirt, and he pulls his lips off mine, his breathing ragged. “Celestial,” he whispers, his voice pained.

I look up at him, my heart on my sleeve. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel this thing between us. You once begged me to fight for us, to believe in us. I’m here now, Zane. I’m late, but I’m here, and this time, I’m here to stay.”

ChapterEighty-Three

Zane

My heart wrenches when Celeste places white orchids on the coffee table in our office, a sweet smile on her face as her eyes meet mine. They’re a sign of sincerity and new beginnings, and the underlying message is hard to ignore.

I’ve never felt more conflicted than I do right now, with the woman I’ve always loved quietly asking me for another chance day after day. Three weeks was all it took for me to give up on avoiding her. The way she doesn’t push for my attention and quietly takes what I’m willing to give is maddening — and I suspect she knows it.

Truthfully, attempting to resist her was a fool’s errand from the start. Turning my back to her in our bed only helped until she placed her hand on my shoulder and whispered my name, her voice dripping with need. Celeste has always been my weakness, and nothing will ever change that.

“Did you decide between the two projects we discussed?” she asks as she walks up to me, her long legs on display in that short black skirt. My gaze roams over her hungrily, and I watch her bite back a smirk as she pulls her hair to the side, the movement so sexy that I nearly groan. The cream-colored blouse she’s wearing is undone at the top, giving me a hint of her cleavage, and it’s slowly driving me insane.

She’s been doing this for weeks now, slowly seducing me to remind me of how good things can be between us, and like the fool I am, I fall for it each and every time. I’m desperate for those few moments when I lose myself in her, and nothing else matters. It’s escapism and it doesn’t solve a thing, but fuck, I’m weak when it comes to her.

“Both hotels could generate a high ROI, but it’s a tough call,” I tell her as I run a hand through my hair. “I think it’s just a matter of preference at this stage.”

Celeste stands next to my desk, keeping just enough distance between us to remain professional even as she bends forward to peer at my screen. I try my hardest not to notice the way her ass looks in that skirt, or the way the fabric rides up her thighs, but it’s a losing battle. My wife shifts a little, and I catch a glimpse of her garters.

“I like this one best,” she says, taking my mouse from me to zoom in on one of the two properties we’re considering. “What do you think?”

She looks over her shoulder, and my breath hitches. It hurts to look at her, to know that we could’ve had it all if she’d just had faith in me, inus, like I begged her to. Her expression shifts, and I tear my eyes off her.

“I like them both. Honestly, I’m undecided.”

She nods in agreement and pulls up the other property, placing both images side by side before leaning in and resting her elbow on my desk. Her skirt rides up further, and she tilts her hips just a little. She looks fucking irresistible bent over my desk like that, her stockings and garters on display for me, right along with her perfect ass.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, my hand wrapping around her thigh. My thumb brushes over the lace top of her stocking, and she whimpers, the sound needy and so fucking seductive that I nearly cave there and then.

Celeste looks over her shoulder, her gaze heated. “I’m just comparing our two investment options,” she lies, her gaze fucking ravenous.

I slide my hand up until I’ve got it resting right at the top of her thigh, my thumb brushing against her thong. “Yeah? Is that all you’re doing?”

Her hips tilt up just a touch, the movement near imperceptible. “Of course,” she says, sounding just a little breathless.

It’s moments like these that make it so hard to hold on to the anger. I know exactly what she’s up to with the flowers, the little touches, and her sweet smiles, but I still can’t fucking resist her.

A soft, needy sound escapes her throat when I slowly push her skirt up and lean in to kiss her pussy. “Okay,” I whisper. “Go ahead and do that then.”

I watch as she pulls up my analysis documents and gently trails a finger over her pussy, taking note of how wet her panties are. It’s so easy to lose myself in her, to focus solely on how good it feels to have her in my arms, but it never lasts.

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