The Obsession (Filthy Rich Americans 2)

“I’m sorry.” He moved in until his shadow fell over me, blocking the light overhead. “I didn’t mean to be an asshole and push.” He hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should confess it. “I, uh, haven’t heard anyone say that to me since my mom . . . It’s been a long time.”

Only fifteen years.

My heart ached for him, both the loss of his mother and for the family who never said they loved each other. So, I understood why he was eager to hear it again.

“I get it.” I reached up and used my fingertips to trace his strong jawline. “But you can’t make me. When I say it, it’ll be on my terms.”

He nodded in understanding. He slipped a hand behind my back and fitted me against him. His other hand palmed mine, his thumb flicking over the engagement ring.

We hadn’t kissed. Not since the dressing room yesterday, and so when his lips covered mine, electricity flowed through me. It sizzled across my skin, drawing goosebumps and delicious shivers.

The kiss deepened, thickened. A different kind of longing made my body heavy and weightless at the same time. I didn’t just want him like this, a rough fuck in the shower. I wanted all of him.

He turned us under the steady stream of water, so my back was against the tile, and I could see around him while his mouth traveled down my neck. We looked amazing like this. My hand draped over the muscles of his back, my eyes lidded. Two lovers unable to control the passion between them.

Tonight, I wasn’t Medusa. If he was Ares, then I was Aphrodite.

I closed my eyes and hoped our love story wouldn’t suffer the same fate theirs had.

EIGHTEEN

THE LIBRARY WAS FOREBODING TONIGHT. The gold lettering on the spines of the books glinted razor sharp, and the unused fireplace was a wide, dark mouth threatening to devour me.

I’d arrived early for our appointment, even though it had taken every ounce of strength I possessed to get me through the doorway. I hadn’t seen Macalister since last night. The mere thought of him made ice crawl down my spine.

And this evening he was late.

It was exhausting sitting here, waiting while tension held me in its stiff grasp. Was this his intent? To remind me who was in control since he’d supposedly relinquished ownership over me?

I wasn’t about to text him and give him hard evidence I was waiting for him. He’d likely take it the wrong way.

So, I was just about to leave when he finally arrived and stalked into the room, bringing a cold draft with him. He undid the button on his suitcoat before he lowered himself into the seat across from me. “Excuse my lateness. There was an issue I had to handle personally.”

His focus went to the board, and then to me expectantly. I always played white, which in theory had the advantage of the first move, but I hadn’t been able to capitalize on it yet. He waited impatiently for me to pick up a pawn and make my opening, acting like this was all normal and everything in the hedge maze had never happened.

Like the Minotaur didn’t exist.

I toppled over my king, letting it clatter to the desk. “I resign.”

He was prepared for this. Perhaps the only thing that surprised him was I’d waited this long to try it. His demeanor was calm and controlled. “No. You’re not allowed.”

“I’m done. I’m not playing anymore.”

Cold drifted through his expression. “We made an arrangement, and you’ll honor your word, as I did mine.”

“I won’t.” I felt small but tried not to show it. “I can’t after last night.” If he was truly obsessed as he’d said, then there was a small chance he cared for me. I pleaded to that side of him. “Let me go.”

His eyes were murky water moving beneath a thin layer of ice. “No.”

My heart sank to my toes, but what did I expect? He’d turned down fifty million dollars for me. “Then . . . I’m going to resign every night.”

His frustration could have been masking his desperation, but if so, he hid it well. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and peered at me with tight eyes. “I’m disappointed in you, but I may be willing to compromise.”

“You mean, renegotiate.”

“Yes,” he said.

I shook my head. “No, I’m not interested.”

I’d finally learned to stop digging myself into a deeper hole. Any gains I’d made were short-term and followed by terrible consequences. I wasn’t too proud to admit he’d bested me, but I wasn’t going to feel shame over it. He had thirty more years of experience than I did.

When I rose to my feet, genuine alarm coasted through his face. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I made my move and the game is over, so we’re done here.”