Only You (Sweet Torment 2)

He arched his brow, then let out a loud laugh. It was so jarring, so contagious that it took everything I had not to smile. My God the man was beautiful when he laughed. Straight white teeth, little creases around his eyes and mouth, and those dimples? Wow.

“Well, as long as you don’t think I’m a jackass, I’ll chalk this up to a good day.”

I smiled a little.

“This arrangement,” he said. “It’s a family thing and I have a responsibility—”

“You don’t need to explain anything to me,” I interrupted. Because it was true. He didn’t. And I understood. It was within his culture and his right to do what he wanted. And even if I were the kind of woman to make it onto that list, there were things he deserved that I could never give.

“I want to explain,” he said. The problem was, I didn’t want to hear it. Because the idea was hard to deal with, much less hearing details from Leo’s lips. It cut something deep down and I didn’t want to feel the dull throb the truth left behind. The truth that in the end, I wasn’t right for Leo. And we both knew it.

“You want a family, right?” I asked.

“Someday.”

I nodded. “Your sister and family obviously care about you. You told me once it was my job to see to your every need. If this is what you want, isn’t it my job to assist with it?”

He winced a little when I threw his words from the other night back at him. But I needed to steel myself against his charm. His warmth. Or else I’d be on the losing end in more ways than one in a couple months when this job ended and we parted ways.

“I don’t like this idea of being with you, then dating someone else,” he said, and the way his voice held a deep rasp made me imagine for a moment we lived in a different world where Leo and I could be together. But we couldn’t.

Between social classes and two separate lives, it wasn’t in the cards for us. Never was. The times I felt him and kissed him were a tease. I knew it. And I’d be wise to stop. For the time being, Leo and I would be around each other. But the time would come, sooner than later, that I’d leave here and life would go on. Just like it always had for me.

“I wouldn’t use you, Paige.”

“It’s fine,” I shrugged. Tapping into the coldness I was so used to. “It would be unwise to carry on the way we have, but I assure you I don’t feel used, nor do I expect anything more than what this is.”

“And what is this?”

“Temporary.”

He’d said this to me in the past and we both knew it to be true. The word hung between us and something in his eyes flashed hot and angry.

“This job is important to me, Leo.”

“I know.”

We stood there, looking at each other. Now was the time to be clear. “Then know too that I put that first.”

“I’ve caught on to that.” He gave a smile that was half sad, half happy. “Part of me is really glad about that.” He looked at my face and my heart hurt a little. “But being aware of your priorities can sting a man’s—”

“Ego?” I offered with a grin, hoping to lighten the mood. But Leo stayed serious, his eyes on mine, and he shook his head.

“His hope.”

That sick feeling overwhelmed me because I knew what a prize hope was. I recently came into a smidge of it and it was brutal.

“Well.” He took a deep breath and walked back around his desk. I never thought I’d be so disappointed to be on the same page with someone. But we were. There was an understanding. Leo knew I wanted this job and, above all else, his recommendation. And I knew I was temporary.

Two facts that should come easy in a professional relationship. Yet my skin still burned from where he had touched me. Where his jaw scraped along my inner thigh right before he . . .

I shook my head. Those were the thoughts that would only bring more complication. Because the middle of our story didn’t matter. The end would be the same.

Nothing.

“Now that we have clear goals with each other, why don’t you bring the others back in?” Leo said.

I nodded and turned to open the door.