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‘What are you smirking at?’ Her hand falls to her cocked hip as I answer her with a warning.
‘He’s not a nice man, Sadie.’
‘I’m sure he’s not the only one on the wanted list of the morality police.’
‘I don’t claim to be perfect, but I do care about you.’
‘Care about me, or want to control me?’
‘Your life’s your own, sweetheart. The only control I’ll ever need is when I fuck you.’
‘Yeah,’ she says with a flip of a wrist. ‘Like that’s going to happen again.’ Her attitude and her stance have me instantly hard. I love a little fight in a girl. A little pushback. ‘And I meaneveragain.’
Sure, you do, sweetheart.
As I take a step inside, Sadie shuffles back a little, the gleam in her eye no doubt matching mine. Her fingers fall away from the handle, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. It could be a sign of anger, but something tells me that the root is far from that.
‘You can’t just barge inside here uninvited.’
I close the door and turn, letting my gaze slide in a lazy perusal of her body. Her nipples pebble under her shirt.
‘It’s a good job I’m much better at asking for forgiveness than permission then, isn’t it?’
‘God, you’re so frustrating.’
‘And you’re smarter than this.’ I fold my arms over my chest and lean my back against the door. ‘He’s no good for you.’
‘And you are?’
‘No.’ I shrug. ‘I’m not right for you, either.’
She laughs hard. ‘I get it,’ she says, stepping closer. ‘What Julian was hinting downstairs. I get it; I do. Ella explained it to me already. You think we’re too different.’ Standing in front of me, with her arms still folded, her words are knife sharp and pointed. ‘You don’t think I’m good enough for you.’
Sadie, Sadie, Sadie. How can you be so blind?
‘Sweetheart, you’ve got it the wrong way around. I’m no good for you.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
SADIE
I’m stunned. Again.What the fuck is wrong with men?And I want to retort but can’t. His expression is too serious. Too alert. And a little bit frightening.
‘What do you want, Will? Will, the future lord. Will, the fancy doctor. I don’t know why you’re here, other than you seem to have some beef with Julian.’
‘Yes, because that’s it. I engineered our whole meet-cute last weekend because I do feel the need to fuck up Julian.’ When he puts it like that, so sardonically, I want to slap his face. ‘That’s not to say I don’t want to fuck him up for sniffing around you like the dog he is,’ he continues. ‘Because I do, but that’s not what grown-ups do. Instead, they seethe and pout. A bit like you’re doing now.’
‘Oh, go to hell,’ I say, turning away when he grabs my arm.
‘I’d rather go to heaven. Inside you.’
‘And I’d rather eat snails,’ I snap back, full of snark.
‘I recommend you do,’ he responds, pulling the Alice band out of my hair and throwing it to the floor. ‘A little garlic butter makes everything slide down better.’ He begins undoing the pins while I do nothing to stop him.
‘Maybe I should douse you in some.’ My words sound husky, wanton in their response. And how is that possible when we’re talking about the things you find in gardens, hiding under pails? Or the stuff that makes your breath smell?
‘You didn’t seem to mind how I tasted the other day. In fact, this morning when I showered, I almost came in my own hand as I remembered you tasting yourself.’
