Page 31 of Mine
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AOIFE
Iwake up to an empty bed. I don’t need to look around to know he’s gone. And you know what’s worse? I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed.
The memory of his hand on my arm, and how I put it back there, sets a wave of heat flushing my cheeks.‘Relax, sweetheart. Stop worrying. Trust me when I say I’ve got this. I’ve got you.’
Oddly enough, I’m starting to believe him.
And I’m so fucking tired of fighting the world alone. Fighting with my father about my engagement. Fighting for a life away from the hellhole I grew up in. It’s been so long since anyone even listened to my worries, let alone shouldered them for me.
Is it any wonder I found comfort in his touch?
Part of me hates myself for it.
Yet, the other part of me sees him for what he is to me—my protector.
When he started stripping last night, I almost blurted, ‘I’m ready to discuss that frankly feral attraction right about now.’ I have no sexual experience whatsoever, but every cellin my body is certain that Dominic would be dynamite in bed.
I might not actually survive it.
Which is why it’s imperative I never find out.
I drag myself out of bed in search of coffee. Oh, who am I fucking kidding? I’m searching for him. I push back the covers and check my feet. They’re still grazed but improving with every passing day.
When I’m ready, I descend the wide staircase and pad across the pale stone floors towards the kitchen. The sunlight streams in through the big windows. The house is hot already. Or maybe it’s just me? Maybe it’s the Dominic effect.
‘Good morning.’ My fiancé hands me a cup of coffee, black and strong, just the way I like it. The man pays attention.
‘Morning,’ I accept it gratefully, willing myself not to stare. He’s dressed in a suit today. Those forearms are covered by a black tailored jacket.
‘You slept well.’ There’s no missing the fire dancing around the edges of his ebony irises.
‘I did.’ I take a sip, forcing a neutral expression. ‘Did you?’
‘Like a baby.’ He fires me a wink. ‘Thanks.’
We stare at each other for several seconds. I should look away, break this bizarre intensity pulsing between us, but his big brown eyes have me in a chokehold.
‘I have to go away for a few days. I have some business that I need to take care of.’ He leans back on the kitchen counter. ‘You’ll be safe here. I’ve doubled security around the grounds.’
A stupid ripple of disappointment rips through me.
I should be relieved to have the place to myself. To notbe sharing a bed with a man who can flip from, ‘I have an incinerator in the garage and a power washer in the shed that would take care of that’ to ‘Now how about dessert?’
He pushes his glasses up onto his nose, and his bicep strains beneath his suit. The urge to touch it tickles my fingertips. ‘Sheila will be over later.’ He glances out at the blue sky. ‘You should go for a swim, chill out by the pool. It’ll probably piss rain tomorrow.’
‘I don’t have a swimsuit,’ I admit.
‘Buy one. I left a credit card beside your iPad. You’re going to need it for the wedding stuff.’ Those ebony eyes bore into mine again. ‘And buy yourself whatever you want. You’re going to be here a while.’
It’s not exactly how I planned the next year of my life, but it beats the alternative.
‘The wedding planner is expecting your call today to discuss the finer details.’
A sharp surge of anticipation swirls through my stomach.
Shit’s about to get real—very real.
