The next three hours pass in agony. I feel Shaw’s eyes on us every moment of this gala. He’s across the table from Ella and me during dinner. He’s beside me as we each wait for our turn to speak at the center stage podium about this great cause. He’s following us as we head to the bar for another drink, work the room, dance some more… Finally, I glance at my watch. It’s nearly midnight, and my prospective father-in-law is still giving us the critical stare.

When Ed Sheeran sounds over the speakers, I grab Ella’s hand. If the evening is going to end in disaster with Shaw refusing to believe that I have feelings for her, I don’t know what I’ll do next. If I sacrifice Sweet Darlin’, I’ll put over a thousand employees at five different plants out of work. I’ll fail in a task I studied to accomplish my entire academic career. I’ll end my late father’s dream.

But goddamn it, I want Ella. I want to be with her more than I thought possible. We could have something real and strong and lasting if we simply had better circumstances.

Since we don’t, I don’t know where that leaves us.

“Hey,” Ella murmurs softly, her fingertips caressing the back of my neck, drifting over my shoulders. “Are you all right?”

“Maybe.” I shake my head solemnly. “I don’t think Shaw is going to budge on the idea of marrying me off to his daughter for a stake of Sweet Darlin’, and I’m going round and round in my head.”

“About what to do next?”

I nod. “Kendra and I don’t belong together, and I’d like to spare us both the heartache. But I also know what my mom and stepdad would have said about the fact I’ve been lying to a man to whom I gave my word. I hate not doing the honorable thing.” I sigh. As long as I’m putting my cards on the table, I might as well show Ella the ones I tucked up my sleeve. “And now I’m worried about something else.” I cup her cheek. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Her face softens. “I don’t want to lose you, either. To be honest, I didn’t expect all the feelings…”

“Me, either.” I press my lips together in what I know must be a grim line. Everything about this moment feels sadly inevitable. “I’m having these crazy thoughts…”

Her brow furrows in concern. “Like what?”

“If we tried to make this work for real, in the long run, how would we manage it so we could both be happy? Am I the only one thinking that way?”

“No,” she whispers, to my relief. “Scenarios have crossed my mind, too. But I don’t have any answers.”

“Yeah.” I shake my head in agreement. “No matter what we do, someone has to give up something big.”

“We’re not in an easy position, are we?”

We turn quiet, and I’m sure we both wish everything could be as simple as the last couple of days have been. Breathing with Ella is effortless. So is sleeping, laughing, talking, cuddling, eating…just being together.

Why is everything suddenly so fucking complicated?

As the song ends, I pull her close. I hate this feeling of being torn in multiple directions and having no control over my life. I want to damn Shaw. I even want to damn myself for being desperate enough to take his deal. But none of that changes where we are and the fact that I may have to make some difficult decisions after tonight. My earlier decision to put space between Ella and me seems more logical…but less possible. I’d far rather tell her how I feel and simply let the chips fall. We might not end up together, but at least I’ll know I was one hundred percent honest with her.

“Let’s not worry right now,” she whispers, then she leans in to kiss me.

Avoidance of the problem, I know. But as I meet her halfway and press my lips to hers, that sounds damn fine.

The moment we kiss, the room seems to fade away. The music disappears. I’m left with only the sound of my beating heart and the feel of her clinging to my shoulders.

In that moment, I want to give her my breath, my future, and my heart.

I pull back, smooth a dark curl from her face, and swallow hard. “I think I’m in love with you.”

Her face is blank for a terrible moment. Then excitement dances in her eyes. Her lips curl up in a joyous smile. Happiness brightens her whole face. I find myself smiling back.

Ella blushes, bites her lip. “I think I’m in love with you, too.”

She sobers for a moment, seeming to remember, as I do, that our feelings don’t change our circumstances. Someone is going to have to give up something in order for us to be together. Or we’ll have to part ways. There’s no way to have our cake and eat it, too.

“Oh, how touching,” Gregory Shaw drawls as he dances Kendra across the floor in the opposite direction.

Kendra sends me a pleading stare of apology. She’s trying…within the scope of what she can do. Her father doesn’t listen to her—or to anyone.

“It is, actually,” I snarl because I’ve had enough of him manipulating me. “Stop spitting out the most sarcastic quip in every scenario and start caring more about the fact that you’re making everyone around you—even your own daughter—unhappy for the sake of some ambition or rivalry none of us even understands.” I stop dancing and grab Ella’s hand. “You know my heart is with Ella. But if you want to keep pushing and force me to marry Kendra, you’ll wind up with a disaster. I’ll bury myself in work to make sure you never gain another smidgen of influence at Sweet Darlin’. Don’t expect grandchildren. And don’t be surprised when your daughter sneaks around behind my back and breaks her marriage vows repeatedly. I won’t stop her because I know she’ll be looking for a deep, true love—something we don’t share. She’ll come to resent you for her loneliness and the impossible position you’ve put her in. She’ll run off the second she comes into her trust fund. There won’t be a damn thing either of us can do to stop her. So unless you want to see us in divorce court in three years, I suggest you find another tactic. Or go fuck yourself.” I tug on Ella’s hand. “Let’s go.”

She follows me off the floor, squeezing my hand tightly in silent support. I don’t know who overheard us and I don’t care anymore. If I have to marry Kendra in fifteen days, it doesn’t matter if people know neither of us is happy before the vows. I’m sure it will be obvious as hell to them afterward.

As I open the door for Ella, I’m so glad to escape the hotel. I give the valet my claim check. He dashes off and we wait to make our final escape.

“That was a good speech,” she praises me.

“It was the truth. I hope I didn’t just fuck everything up.”

“What you said needed to be said. If Shaw doesn’t see how right you are, it’s because he doesn’t want to.”

I nod. “But it also doesn’t change anything, sweetheart. I either have to break the deal altogether and come to you a poor man with nothing that resembles the means to make a productive livelihood or ask you to wait for Kendra to come into her trust fund when she’s twenty-five and I’ve managed to divorce her. That’s three years from now.”

She must feel my tension because she fits herself against me, buffering me from the lash of hot wind and anger with a hug, cupping my cheek in her hand. “We don’t have to have all the answers tonight.”

“No, but if we’re going to last, we need them soon.”

Ella doesn’t argue. She knows I’m right.

“I’m sorry,” I say into the silence.

“For what?”

“Dragging you into this hopeless situation. If I’d had any inkling we’d wind up here…”

“In love and unable to see a way we can be together?” She caresses my face. “How could you have known?”

“I called you, rather than someone else, because you made me feel something when we met.”

“And besides the money, I said yes for the same reason.” She gives me a sad smile. “Even if we can’t stay together, I wouldn’t have missed spending this time with you for anything. I’ve looked for love for years without knowing what I want or need out of a relationship. Now, I do. I’ll probably never find it again,” she admits softly. “But at least I’ll know.”

Damn it, how is this woman so amazing?

The car arrives, and the valet helps Ella inside. We share a silent ride home, me steering with one hand and curling my fingers around hers with the other. All I can think about is being close to her.

The trip seems like the longest fifteen minutes of my life, but we’re finally pulling up in front of my building. Without exchanging a word, we make our way through my door. The mood has a solemn excitement that confuses me. We both know our time may be limited to a number of days we can count with fingers and toes. But we’re together now, alone, aware that we’re falling for each other.

She sets her purse on the hall table just inside the door. I toss my car keys beside it. Our stares meet. The pull between us tugs and pings. Our chemistry takes up all the air in the room.

“Show me the zipper on your dress.”

Ella turns her back to me, lifting her hands to unwind her hair from its elegant updo. As I pinch the tab and tug, parting the silk, her hair comes tumbling down, the long curls brushing the pale skin halfway down her back. I caress her shoulders, draping the delicate straps of her dress over her arms. The fabric is so silky it clings to her every curve as it slinks to the floor. Before I even speak, she steps out of the silken puddle, clad only in a strapless bra, a sexy-as-hell thong, and heels that make her legs look endless and lean.

“Take off your panties,” I murmur in her ear, gratified when she shudders and complies. I unclasp her bra at the same time. They both litter the floor moments later, just beside her shimmering dress. But she’s still not naked, and I need her to be. “Shoes.”

At my prompt, Ella steps out of them and onto the hardwood floor. She slides closer, until her backside cradles my front. She’s bare from head to toe, her soft skin abrading the fabric of my tux as I splay a palm over her abdomen and caress my way up to cradle her heavy breast. When I bend to kiss her neck, she tilts her head to give me more access to her graceful throat and lets loose a groan. I nip and suck at her while my other hand finds its way between her legs, fingers sinking between her folds. She’s completely drenched.

“Why so wet?” I ask as I toy with her clit. “What have you been thinking about, sweetheart?”

She doesn’t play coy. “You. What would happen as soon as we came through the door. How good it would feel.”

I arch my hips, nudging her ass with my hard cock. “I’ve been thinking the same thing. I want you now, Ella.”

She pants, her head falling back against me. Her eyes close as she writhes under my touch. God, she’s so beautiful without knowing it, so sensual without being aware of her own feminine power.

“Yes.”

“Do you want to come on my fingers or with me buried inside you?” I nip at her lobe, smiling slightly as she trembles in my arms.

“I have to choose?”

“Don’t be greedy,” I scold, suppressing a laugh. “Tell me how you want to come.”

“With you inside me,” she gasps out.

Her answer thrills me. I’d like that, too. I won’t deny I’d like to simply watch her in the throes of ecstasy for the sheer visual enjoyment, but I’m not sure my patience will allow that.

Regretfully, I step away and release Ella, holding out my hand to her. “Come with me.”

She sets her palm on mine without hesitation. Our eyes meet. The thread of connection between us thickens, strengthens. It’s a completely new experience, yet I have no doubt that’s what this feeling is.

With an absent flip of the lock on the door, I lead her through the bedroom and into the bathroom. I have a giant soaking tub I’ve never used. And suddenly I want to inaugurate it the right way.

In the middle of the room, I grip her hips. “Stop.”

Ella does without hesitation, and my head swims with all the possible demands I could make of her body. She would undoubtedly surrender to them, to me. That notion is heady. I’ve always liked to be in control in bed, but with her the need has ratcheted up to a whole new level.

I turn her to face me. Our eyes meet. The moment is a profound thrill. The gravity of connecting the first time we’ve acknowledged our feelings mixes with pure sexual hunger to concoct a dizzying desire I doubt will end with our orgasms.

“Up you go, sweetheart.” I lift her onto the counter.

She settles herself on the marble and spreads her legs to me in invitation. I’m never going to turn that down.

“Wait here.” I press a kiss onto her forehead. I don’t dare take her mouth now. If I do, I won’t let her go until we’ve both found climax.

“Hurry,” she breathes as she leans back onto the bathroom mirror, skimming her fingertips along the insides of her splayed thighs.

Yeah, with a visual like that, you bet I will.

I brush my hand over her knee as I make my way out of the bathroom, tearing through the bedroom, and into the home office down the hall. I pick up the rolling stool, then approach my bed again, stopping at the nightstand to retrieve a foil packet from the box inside.

When I return to the bathroom, Ella sends me a questioning stare. “I understand what the condom is for, but the stool?”

I don’t reply, merely smile as I set the rolling contraption in the middle of the room, start the tub, then adjust the tap until the water is the right temperature. Once it is, I plug up the drain, leaving the water trickling in the background.

Then I lower myself onto the padded stool and roll my way between Ella’s delicious thighs. Without preamble, I grip her knees in my hands, dangle her calves down my back, and fasten my mouth over her pussy. Her flavor is an addiction. So are her responses—immediate and without filter. She loves being worshipped, and I’m more than happy to make her feel like a goddess.

Within moments, she threads her fingers through my hair and tries to pull me deeper. She gasps, groans, whimpers, the sounds a beautiful symphony of pleasure filling my ears.

“Carson?” She sounds almost panicked.

Yes, she feels me. She wants this. She’s only moments away. Granted, this isn’t the mutual orgasm we discussed earlier…but I don’t hear her complaining.

To help her find satisfaction now, I plunge a pair of fingers into her, relishing the feel of her flesh clinging to my digits because she’s yearning to be filled, desperate for the friction. I find the smooth skin along her front wall and rub slowly, methodically, unrelentingly.

Within seconds, she’s scratching at me, begging with her grasping hands and unintelligible pleas. Her clit swells on my tongue. Her pussy grips my fingers mercilessly. I moan against her flesh.

She explodes.

Her back arches as she growls out a climax like I’ve never heard from her—deep, wrenching, and endless. The sounds mimic the crescendo of pleasure that builds inside her, rising to a loud cacophony of cries that echo off the walls.

I hold in a smile as I lap and suck and stimulate her until her entire body goes limp.

“You’re insatiable,” she manages to say weakly, but she’s wearing a loopy little grin that tells me she’s not at all unhappy about that fact.

“You’re welcome,” I quip as I roll across the floor to kill the tap to the tub.

The water level looks perfect, and gentle tendrils of steam rise up invitingly.

She eyes the tub. “Are we cleaning up already?”

“No, sweetheart. I’m definitely going to dirty you up some more.”

“If that’s the case, you’re overdressed.”

My tux is wrinkled, and my shirt feels limp after a full night of festivities and a few minutes in the humid bathroom. I’m ready to ditch it all.

“You’re right.” I stand and tug at my bow tie, then shed my shoes, jacket, pants, and once stiffly starched shirt… Finally, I stand before her, every bit as naked as she is, then I help her off the counter and into my arms.

With a hand in her soft, dark tresses, I guide her mouth to mine and feast on her tongue, going deep, letting her taste herself and feel my passion that’s been simmering and stewing while I sent her into a spinning climax. She clings to me, not quite steady on her feet as she gives me every part of herself, settling her breasts on my chest, gripping my neck, caressing the side of my leg with her calf.

She’s perfect against me and about to take me deep into her body. I’ve never felt a certainty that a woman is meant to be meaningful to me. Sure, I might have wanted another date—or a second dance of the mattress tango—to test the chemistry. But this need isn’t stemming from my libido.

Reluctantly, I release her and step into the tub I’ve intentionally only half filled. As the warm water encloses my feet and the lower part of my legs, I help her in, too, wrapping my arms around her to dust kisses along the graceful slope of her shoulder. Everything about this woman fascinates me.

“It’s a big tub, but I don’t think we’re both going to get clean in here,” she teases.

“Totally not the point.” I don’t give her time to ask questions before I sit in the shimmering water, bracing myself against the sloped back and donning my condom as she watches with an unblinking stare as water laps around my hips. “Straddle me.”

The light bulb illuminates in her head, and her entire face brightens as she positions her feet on either side of my thighs and sinks to her knees. I hold my cock by the base, pointing straight up at her as she settles the crest at her opening and begins to sink down with a sigh of pleasure.

“I’ve wanted to do this,” she admits.

“Make love in a bathtub?”

Ella shakes her head. “No, but I like that, too. What I’ve really wanted is to be on top. You’re always so in control of me during sex. I wanted to, um…return the favor.”

As she sinks down to the hilt, her breath becomes a long moan. I hiss between my teeth at the bliss of having her wrapped around me, her flesh swollen after her recent peak, yet eager for more. I take her by the hips and guide her back up my aching cock.

I need her. And I need her now.

“Not so fast.” She stops me, grinding down on my length. “It’s my turn.”

I think of all the times I’ve teased and tormented her, dragging out her pleasure, denying her orgasm, holding her just outside the reach of the sensation that would send her toppling into the abyss of satisfaction. I’m sure if she has the chance, she’ll repay me.

The water sloshes as she rises up, then sinks back down, one protracted inch at a time, awakening every one of my nerve endings to the feel of her encasing me and the ecstasy to come. Yeah, she’s going to undo me thoroughly, and I’m okay with that—eventually.

But I’m not going down easily or alone.

I tug on her shoulders and send her toppling against me before cradling a breast and lifting it to my mouth. “Then ride me.”

She does as I torment her nipples, gently sucking, nipping, gnawing until I know she’s feeling me. Her skin turns rosy again. Her pussy tightens. Her pace quickens.

“Carson…” Her protest is almost a mewl. She wriggles like the ache is growing too much too fast.

“Sweetheart?” When she doesn’t say anything for a long moment, I wonder if it’s because she can’t string her thoughts together…or if she’s plotting something. “Let me help you.”

“No.” She shakes her head as she thrusts down on me again, this time a bit faster. Water splashes around us, the displacement growing with every movement. “No.”

Since she’s panting her denial, I grip her hips. “But I insist.”

Then I bend my knees, brace my feet on the bottom of the tub, and shove my way up inside her, owning her tight depths, plunging deeper than I’ve ever been. My cock nudges the spot along her inner wall that I worked with my fingers. It should be hypersensitive now.

“Oh, my god.” Her eyes flash wide and she looks at me, mouth gaping in astonishment. “Yes!”

Ella wails out her assent as she grabs my shoulders, fingernails digging into my skin, forearms braced on my chest.

I repeat the motion, fucking her thoroughly from beneath. In the next thrust, she joins the rhythm. Her whole body falls into it—head tossed back, hips flowing with me. After another roll through the water together, we’re in sync and scaling our way to mutual satisfaction. I don’t care about the water spilling onto the tile floor. I don’t care that my neighbors might be hearing the loud, high-pitched sounds of her need pinging throughout the room. I only give a damn about her and giving her the most pleasure possible. I can’t deepen our commitment when I’m technically engaged to someone else, but I can drench her in orgasmic bliss. I can use my body as an expression of my devotion.

We move with common purpose wordlessly, linked by our need. I imagine an alternate universe where I’m free of Gregory Shaw and my obligation to marry Kendra. Where I’ve slid a ring on Ella’s finger and we’ve spoken sweet, solemn vows. I’ve come home from work, and she’s spent the day doing whatever makes her happy and contributes to her dream coming true. We’re settled and ready for the future, and I’m not wearing this damn strangling condom because we’re eager to start the next generation, fueled by the love and passion filling us now.

That, and her breasts bouncing near my mouth, is all it takes for me to zoom up to the zenith of pleasure. I manage to catch her nipple between my lips and suckle it until she’s hissing and crying out and clamping down, heading for completion. As the feeling picks up steam, I fight through a haze of desire to keep plying her with sensation.

This is going to fucking ruin me.

“I’m close,” I growl.

“Me, too,” she keens out. “I’m there. I…” Her strangled scream of satisfaction swallows the rest.

I bury my face against her skin as the need converges into a thick knot of desperate ache. When I slam up inside Ella with the next thrust, it unravels. I lose all control. We collide again as the rapture takes over. I empty my body, soul, and heart into this woman in a way I never have. I suspect I never will again.

I’m still panting and holding her close when that realization smacks me witless, along with the dawning recognition that I’m in love for the first—and last—time in my life.

I have no idea what to do next.

“Wow,” she manages to murmur weakly as she pushes the hair away from her face.

“Wow.” I’m still winded and sweating and bowled over.

She looks over the edge of the tub. “The floor is soaked. I’ll get some towels.”

When she makes to disconnect our bodies and rise, I hold her fast against me. “Just a minute.”

Ella settles against me and meets my gaze, gnawing on her bottom lip. “Everything’s changed, hasn’t it?”

“Yes.” I sigh. “And yet nothing has.”

“I love you.” She kisses me softly, with an air of mourning.

She knows we’re on a countdown to goodbye unless something drastic changes or one of us gives up everything we hold dear.

Still, logic doesn’t stop me from telling her exactly how I feel. “I love you, too.”

“I wish I knew how to fix our mess,” she says almost absently, knowing neither of us can, yet believing deep down there must be a solution because the world can’t be that unfair.

I’m already sure it can be.

“Me, too, sweetheart. We have about two weeks to figure it out. Maybe it’s time for a really honest conversation about what we both can live with…and can’t live without.”

Ella wriggles free and rises from the tub in another splash, gleaming beautifully in the warm overhead light. “We have and it still looks hopeless.”

Wrapping a towel around herself, she avoids looking at me. Tears well in her eyes. I want to hold her more than anything. I want to be a part of the solution.

But I already know I’m the problem. I’ve created this. Somehow, I’ll have to fix it.