to our marrow. The sheets are undoubtedly ruined, and I’m not much better, quivering like a Jell-O mold in turbulence.
Still inside me, he moves us back to the position where we started, face to face yet now bonded by flesh and spirit. His lips kiss away my tears and he wraps his arm around my neck, pulling me closer still until all I hear is the steady drumming of his heartbeat.
I can’t do it. It would kill me to leave him after that. He’s everything I never knew I needed, delivered like a miracle into my arms. It’d be sacrilegious to walk away.
Stop rationalizing, Snarkarella hisses. Remember that he kept the truth from you, is still keeping secrets. It should take more than a decent fucking to blot that from your mind.
But she underestimates his hold on me—not his arms around me, but the tethers he’s sunken into my heart. He doesn’t want me to go, even if I am the granddaughter of the man who betrayed him. Shouldn’t I consider that in my decision?
How about what you want? Snarkarella’s question lacks her usual vitriol. What do you want for us, independent of Connor Edge, the Rosemont or anything else? There’s a whole big world out there. Don’t you want to see it?
Of course I do.
Even if he let you see it, what would the view be like, behind walls and teams of security guards? Connor will never ease up on the safety measures. Everything will be on his schedule, his timetable, done his way.
There’s no arguing with the truths she speaks. Connor does sequester me. Sure it’s for my protection, but if not for him, I wouldn’t need protection, would I?
His breathing has evened out, he’s asleep. Again my heart clenches as though someone is squeezing it in a fist. I can’t just abandon him.
Who says it has to be forever? Go get a life and if you decide to let Connor Edge be a part of it, then more power to you. Just make sure the choice is yours and that you’re not backed into it or bullied into it.
Worries abound. Will he wait for me? He said he loves me, and I believe him, but love is not always an endless well. His might dry up if I’m not here to reciprocate.
But is that fear enough to justify my staying here? I know I’ll never want anyone else the way I want him. And I have no doubt that a fresh start, away from the Rosemont and all the skeletons buried here, will be good for us.
Connor’s hold on me loosens. This is my moment. Quietly as I can, I slip from the bed, away from his warmth and into the bathroom. His breathing is deep and even when I come back out dressed only in a bathrobe.
If he catches me I’ll say I’m hungry, that I wanted something from the kitchen.
The house is silent and I descend the stairs. I know the security procedures by now. The nights when I stay at the main house, there’s no one guarding my cottage. I still need to avoid the security teams sweeping the grounds, but I know something they don’t.
I move to Connor’s study and my gaze falls on the wall safe where two important documents sit. One is our marriage license. I swallow hard when I think that by leaving, I’m rendering it useless. We’ll have to apply for another one.
If he still wants to marry me.
The other is even more troubling. It’s the safe, sane and consensual clause that I signed for Dom Connor. Even if this Connor doesn’t chase after me, I know he will. A thrill shoots through me when I think about him catching me.
The misery shrouding me squashes any positive feelings. If not for my grandfather there wouldn’t be a Dom Connor, a controlling man with deep-seated issues that stem from three years of he alone knows what. Maybe if there are no more Sinclairs here at the Rosemont, Connor will finally heal his fractured psyche.
The Connor who just made love to me so exquisitely still thinks he wants me. But he doesn’t have the whole picture. He doesn’t know what happened to him after my grandfather’s betrayal.
It’s Dom Connor who has to make that choice. And I
Still inside me, he moves us back to the position where we started, face to face yet now bonded by flesh and spirit. His lips kiss away my tears and he wraps his arm around my neck, pulling me closer still until all I hear is the steady drumming of his heartbeat.
I can’t do it. It would kill me to leave him after that. He’s everything I never knew I needed, delivered like a miracle into my arms. It’d be sacrilegious to walk away.
Stop rationalizing, Snarkarella hisses. Remember that he kept the truth from you, is still keeping secrets. It should take more than a decent fucking to blot that from your mind.
But she underestimates his hold on me—not his arms around me, but the tethers he’s sunken into my heart. He doesn’t want me to go, even if I am the granddaughter of the man who betrayed him. Shouldn’t I consider that in my decision?
How about what you want? Snarkarella’s question lacks her usual vitriol. What do you want for us, independent of Connor Edge, the Rosemont or anything else? There’s a whole big world out there. Don’t you want to see it?
Of course I do.
Even if he let you see it, what would the view be like, behind walls and teams of security guards? Connor will never ease up on the safety measures. Everything will be on his schedule, his timetable, done his way.
There’s no arguing with the truths she speaks. Connor does sequester me. Sure it’s for my protection, but if not for him, I wouldn’t need protection, would I?
His breathing has evened out, he’s asleep. Again my heart clenches as though someone is squeezing it in a fist. I can’t just abandon him.
Who says it has to be forever? Go get a life and if you decide to let Connor Edge be a part of it, then more power to you. Just make sure the choice is yours and that you’re not backed into it or bullied into it.
Worries abound. Will he wait for me? He said he loves me, and I believe him, but love is not always an endless well. His might dry up if I’m not here to reciprocate.
But is that fear enough to justify my staying here? I know I’ll never want anyone else the way I want him. And I have no doubt that a fresh start, away from the Rosemont and all the skeletons buried here, will be good for us.
Connor’s hold on me loosens. This is my moment. Quietly as I can, I slip from the bed, away from his warmth and into the bathroom. His breathing is deep and even when I come back out dressed only in a bathrobe.
If he catches me I’ll say I’m hungry, that I wanted something from the kitchen.
The house is silent and I descend the stairs. I know the security procedures by now. The nights when I stay at the main house, there’s no one guarding my cottage. I still need to avoid the security teams sweeping the grounds, but I know something they don’t.
I move to Connor’s study and my gaze falls on the wall safe where two important documents sit. One is our marriage license. I swallow hard when I think that by leaving, I’m rendering it useless. We’ll have to apply for another one.
If he still wants to marry me.
The other is even more troubling. It’s the safe, sane and consensual clause that I signed for Dom Connor. Even if this Connor doesn’t chase after me, I know he will. A thrill shoots through me when I think about him catching me.
The misery shrouding me squashes any positive feelings. If not for my grandfather there wouldn’t be a Dom Connor, a controlling man with deep-seated issues that stem from three years of he alone knows what. Maybe if there are no more Sinclairs here at the Rosemont, Connor will finally heal his fractured psyche.
The Connor who just made love to me so exquisitely still thinks he wants me. But he doesn’t have the whole picture. He doesn’t know what happened to him after my grandfather’s betrayal.
It’s Dom Connor who has to make that choice. And I