Married to the Secret Billionaire

When he meets my gaze in the sunset light, his eyes have grown more serious now. “How’d you get it?”

I shake my head. Mostly because behind my eyelids, all I can see is the house. The flash of lights. A face, a furious scowl, a sharp, stabbing pain, so blinding I could barely move and then—

I gasp, jerking myself back to the present. “Can we go?” I ask, not even able to maintain a pretense. I swallow hard, hating myself for this. Hating myself for ruining this moment, for spoiling the fun we’d been having. But I can’t deal with this anymore. I shouldn’t be here, and if anything, this moment is just reminding me of that.

“You want to leave?” A furrow appears between his brows.

“Can we just go back to the hotel?” I say, hoping my voice sounds more level now. Less panicked and startled. “I just… it’s been a long day, and I’m pretty tired, so…”

“Of course. We can go.” He stands and offers a hand to help me up. Once he’s pulled me to my feet, he doesn’t let go.

On the drive back, he makes small talk. He chats about the weather, about some of his other favorite spots we didn’t make it to today. He makes plans for us to go exploring again. I offer vague non-answers, not committing to anything. Because in the back of my head, all I can think about is how I need to stay away from him. This has gone too far already. It’s clear Ankor cares about me, but it doesn’t matter. He can’t.

If we get any closer, he could get hurt.

At the hotel, he drops me off at the front door. Before I climb out, he leans across toward me. Unable to help it, I tilt my face away from his.

It’s for his own good, I tell myself. To protect him.

But it doesn’t make me feel any better to see the flash of hurt on his face, quickly followed by pain. I reach for the door handle, but not before he takes my other hand in his.

“Sinclair,” he says, and just that, just my name, is almost enough to undo me. To break down any resistance I spent the whole car ride building up. “If I did something wrong today, I need to know. I can’t handle the thought that I hurt you—”

“No,” I interrupt, forcefully. I turn back to meet his gaze, my own fierce. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Ankor. You didn’t hurt me.”

“Then… what’s wrong?” He tugs on my hand again, lightly.

I force myself to uncurl my fingers. To break out of his grasp and grab the door handle instead. “It’s not your fault,” I repeat, and I pray that he believes me. “Trust me. It’s me, okay? I just…” I shake my head. I can’t explain it. I don’t want to lie to him. But there’s no way I can tell him the truth, either. “Don’t contact me anymore, please. It’s better that way, for both of us.”

“Sinclair, wait.”

But I’m already throwing the car door open.

“Sinclair!” I can hear him open his own door, following after me. But I race across the hotel lobby, straight for the elevators. There’s one waiting, and I practically leap into it, afraid if I move any slower, if I give myself time to think this over, I’ll cave in and do something I shouldn’t.

I turn around as the doors are closing. The last glimpse I get is of Ankor with his hands lifted, fists buried in his hair, watching me through the lobby doors, a look of deep pain on his face.

5

Ankor

Fuck. Fuck.

Of course the one time I let my guard down, the one time I decide I can take a risk, this is what happens. Of fucking course it is.

Could she sense that I was hiding something? Or was it just my own prying—me being a little too curious about her past, about that scar on her back.

I can still picture it when I close my eyes. It was messy, jagged. Someone none-too-expert stitched that wound, and it probably got infected before it healed fully, which makes me think she never got it treated at a hospital. Why? And why would it upset her so much for me to notice it?

I’ve paced myself right into a corner, literally. So I turn and start to pace back the other direction now, head down, shoulders hunched. I realize I look like a crazy person. Anyone who stumbled across me stalking this lobby would think I’d lost it. But I don’t care. I’m too lost in thought to notice.

We’d been having such a perfect day, until that moment. On the beach, alone with her… My blood heats, flowing south again, and I have to clench my fists to stop myself from getting hard just at the memory. She tasted incredible, sweet and heady all at once. And the way that tight, perfect little pussy of hers felt clenched around me, well… Fuck.