Paris
I KNEW BETTER than to be in a small, enclosed space with him but there was no way around it.
After I had eaten the entire carton of Chinese food plus the eggrolls, Tyler insisted he help me with my ridiculous work wounds.
The master bathroom was by no means small with its giant glass shower, marble floors, and huge crystal chandelier suspended from the elevated ceiling, but it was enclosed.
“Take your hose off,” he said.
“I can take care of myself,” I insisted.
His expression brooked no argument. “Take them off, Paris, or I’d be happy to do it myself.”
Right.
The touching thing, not a good idea.
Wanting to get this over with, I quickly shimmied out of my pantyhose and tossed them right in the trash. Tabitha and I were going to have a few words about her plan because it wasn’t working for me.
At all.
The whole I-am-woman-hear-me-roar thing might have been a no-brainer in her book, but I wasn’t sure I was cut out for it. I had to show Tyler what he would be missing out on with the real me.
Not the me Tabitha had created.
After today that couldn’t be more crystal clear.
When Tyler hoisted me onto the counter, I didn’t even bother to protest or call attention to the violation. He took his time patting the area where the blisters had opened up and where the skin had rubbed raw.
A warmth traveled up my legs and spread to my sex. It was like a balm of sunshine. His tentative touches were both soothing and erotic, and my heart started to beat wildly.
Him at my feet was dangerous.
I had to look away as he applied some ointment and gently bandaged the site.
When he was done, he stood to his full, sexy height and then immediately caged me in with an arm on each side of my hips.
He leaned forward and his lips were only mere inches away from mine. “I meant what I said when you ran in the elevator.”
That silly heart of mine stopped beating.
I knew what he meant.
I love you.
I wanted him to say it again, to me, like this. I wanted to say it back. But that wasn’t going to change the fear I had inside me.
The fear of losing what I didn’t really have.
It was only going to make it worse.
The air was thick with the lust we shared and passion swirled around us as if it were looking to pull us closer.
Closer.
We couldn’t get closer.
I shook my head. “Please don’t, Tyler.”
His beautiful brown hair framed his handsome face in soft tousled waves and his blue eyes gleamed. “It’s time to stop this, Paris. You made your point. From now on, I won’t go off by myself half-cocked. That’s what you want, right?”
Now I was pissed. “What I want?” I huffed. “It’s called a relationship, Tyler.” I shoved him backwards. “And clearly you don’t know what it means to be in one because it doesn’t work that way.”
His muscles tensed, his whole chest clenching. “Why the hell not? I said I’m sorry. What more do you want from me? I can’t go back in time or I would.”
Agitated, I turned to leave. “Rewinding time wouldn’t change a thing.”
He grabbed me and pulled me right up to his chest. “This is Tabitha’s game you’re playing, Paris, and I thought we were past games.”
Anger surged through me hot and heavy. I stormed out of his hold and right to the bathroom door. “This isn’t a game, Tyler. This is my life. Now, get out.”
His eyes burned with some kind of emotion I couldn’t quite place. “I’ll do whatever it takes to be the husband you want me to be.”
I just glared at him as he strode past me. “Somehow, I doubt you have what it takes.”
What I needed was to feel like we were a team. Like we were two halves that made a whole. Two puzzle pieces that fit together just right.
Not this.
Not his empty promises or sex appeal or his overpowering charm. While I appreciated those qualities, I needed for him to let his wall down and be real.
Why couldn’t he just see that?