I’m in trouble.

I run my fingers through my hair—which is still dripping wet—as I stare down at the empty glass in my other hand. I only meant to grab some water for the two of us, but now that my head is starting to clear again, now that the haze of need and pleasure has started to dissipate, the gravity of this situation has begun to sink in.

I knew I was courting my father’s displeasure when I ignored Andrew’s orders to return home. Poor Matthias was beside himself with concern when I told him what I intended—but his loyalty has always lain first and foremost with me, not my father or my brother, and I think perhaps he understood this was not simply an act of defiance or rebellion. Matthias is shrewder and more observant than most people give him credit for, which is probably why he agreed to go with my stand-in to the hotel in Beverly Hills. He knows Elle isn’t just another woman for me.

But therein lies the problem. Elle isn’t just another woman. I cannot simply fuck her and forget about her. But now I’ve complicated my situation—and hers. I don’t know if Andrew will make good on his threats. I don’t know what my father will do when he discovers where I am. Perhaps he’s sent a contingent of his lackeys to Beverly Hills. Or perhaps he’s simply waiting, unwilling to cause a public scene but certain I’ll eventually return home. I always do, after all, no matter what trouble I’ve caused.

This time, it’s different. This time, Elle is involved. I can’t bear to leave her—but at the same time, I can’t bear the thought of dragging her further into this. My family’s reach is far and deep. We have the money and the influence to swiftly and quietly destroy the life of a solitary physician, especially one whose professional history is dotted with scandal. My father or Andrew could take everything from her without the rest of the world knowing. And even if she spoke out, her past would cast a shadow over all her claims. I know how cruel and ruthless the press can be—they’d drag her skeletons out of the closet for all to see. Her past matters little to me—knowing the full truth doesn’t alter my feelings in the slightest—but it clearly matters deeply to her. She carries her shame like a shield, using it to keep the rest of the world at bay. What would she do if the entire world knew her secrets?

I rub my forehead. I’m still processing the things she told me earlier—bouncing between sadness and rage at the thought of what those men did to her. They took advantage of her. Used her. Broke her and made her think she was worthless and damaged. She’s been carrying this shame for years, and she did nothing wrong. I swear, if I ever find either of those men…they’ll know the full force of my anger. I’ll destroy them for what they did to her.

But where does that leave us? How do I protect Elle? I don’t know how to take away her shame, but I might not be able to keep that shame from becoming public.

I close my eyes. If Elle and I go out in public together, the eyes of the entire world will be on her. My family might not have to do anything at all—the press would dig up her past all on their own. But what’s the alternative? That I never leave her house? While I can certainly think of many, many ways we might occupy ourselves, that isn’t an effective long-term strategy.

I shouldn’t have come after her. I knew there were risks. Knew there would only be complications. But I wanted her so much—was so focused on having her in my arms one more time—that I pushed away all other thoughts and considerations. All I knew was that I needed to see her again. Touch her again. Kiss her again. Nothing else mattered.

And now it’s possible I’ve destroyed her life. The longer I think about it, the more I realize there are only two possible outcomes to our situation: either I continue to see her—meaning sooner or later the press will notice her and her past will become public—or I break things off now, making me exactly the man she always feared I was. The man who would have her and then throw her away again just as quickly.

My hand tightens on the empty glass. God, is this what it feels like to have a conscience? I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

“Leo?”

Elle’s voice behind me startles me out of my thoughts, and the glass falls from my hand, shattering on the tile floor.

“Shit,” I say. What’s wrong with me?

Elle starts to step forward, but I throw out an arm and stop her.

“You’re barefoot,” I say. “I don’t want you cutting yourself.”

“You’re barefoot, too,” she points out. She frowns up at me. “Is something wrong? You’ve been out here a long time.”

I rub the back of my head. “I was just getting us some water.”

“For ten minutes? With an empty glass?” The confusion in her eyes turns to something else—something that makes my heart ache. She’s always tried to be so brave around me, so strong and detached, but now I see the depth of her vulnerability. She’s afraid. She took a risk with me, and I can see exactly how much that has cost her.

I can’t bear to see that look, especially considering the choice I know I’m going to have to make.

Right now, though, there’s only one choice. I need to comfort her. Assure her I won’t abandon her in the middle of the night. Take her into my arms and let her feel what she does to me. Show her with my body what I don’t dare put into words.

I carefully step over the minefield of broken glass. Then I wrap my arms around her and tug her right against me, lowering my mouth to hers.

Her lips fall open beneath mine, and I take full advantage of it, sliding my tongue deep into her mouth. She moans softly as her tongue meets mine, and my hands tighten on her back. Her taste is intoxicating. She stopped to put on a robe before coming to find me, and I find myself annoyed by the layer of terrycloth between my hands and her skin. I need to get her back to the bedroom and get her out of this.

But then her hands come up between us, pushing against my chest. I begrudgingly tear my mouth away from hers.

“What is it?” I ask. Just that brief kiss was enough to awaken my hunger for her again, and I’m eager to push away the thoughts I was having before she walked in.

“Something’s wrong,” she murmurs, her blue eyes wide and worried as she looks up at me.

“Nothing is wrong,” I tell her. At least nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. Before she can say another word, I reach down and scoop her up in my arms. “Now, I believe we still have half the night ahead of us. We’ll worry about the glass in the morning.”

But she shakes her head as I start to carry her back to her room. “Don’t lie to me, Leo.”

“The only thing wrong is that we’re out of bed,” I say. “Once is not enough for me, Elle. I intend to have you half a dozen more ways before morning.”

She’s still frowning at me as I lay her back down on the bed. “Leo, I—”

I cut her off with a kiss, this one deeper and more urgent than the last. I don’t want to talk. I want to forget about the choice I have to make, forget about the entire outside world. Tomorrow I can make the decisions. Tonight I just want to lose myself in her again. To hear her cry out my name in pleasure one more time—no, a hundred more times. I want to explore every bit of her soft, luscious body until I know it as intimately as I know my own.

Perhaps she still means to argue with me. But as I deepen my kiss, as I tug her robe open and slide my hands across her bare skin, she seems to give herself over to the needs of her body. Her hands come up and tangle in my hair. Her hips arch up against mine. I pull my lips away from hers and kiss a path along her jaw, then down to her throat, nipping at the tender skin there.

“Leo…” she moans.

My cock throbs at the way she says my name. The next time I nip at her, my teeth are a little rougher. She gasps as her fingers tighten in my hair.

I want to make her say my name again. Slowly, I slide down her body, letting my mouth torture and tease her along the way. I move my lips softly, delicately, along the swell of her breast, but when I reach the nipple, I’m no longer gentle. I suck it between my teeth and am rewarded with a groan from deep in her throat.

My hand comes up to address her other breast, letting my fingers skim across the hard, sensitive bud there. A featherlight touch to play against the rough treatment my lips and teeth are giving its twin.

“Leo.” This time, the word is a whimper.

I move onward, down across her stomach, letting my tongue lead the way. She squirms beneath me, and for a moment, I think she’s given herself completely over to the pleasure. But when I reach her bellybutton, she suddenly freezes beneath me.

“Leo,” she whispers. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

My stomach tightens. Nothing I want you worrying about right now. I don’t respond to her question. Instead, I dip my face lower, down to where I can breathe in the sweet, heady scent of her arousal. God, I could drown in that scent.

I push her legs apart a little more, giving me room to move my face closer. I’ve tasted her once tonight, but that wasn’t enough. I want to feel her come on my tongue a second time—and drive all lingering worries from her mind.

She shudders at the touch of my lips. The first time I was urgent, needy, but this time I take my time. Tease her relentlessly. Taunt her with gentle strokes, get her trembling and already unraveling before I even slip my tongue inside of her. When I finally do, the sound that comes from her throat is almost animal, and I find myself smiling against her as I bring her the last few beats to her climax.

My God, she is beautiful when she comes.

But now my cock is aching again, and even as she’s coming down from her pleasure, I’m climbing her body once more. Fortunately, she seems to be driven by a similar need. She stares at me through her haze of pleasure, her half-lidded eyes shining up at me as she reaches for the nightstand.

I bend down and kiss her. Her body seems to melt against mine, and for a moment I consider sliding into her as I am, without anything between us—I’m not sure she’d object, not right now. I want her fully and completely.

God, Leo. You are in trouble.

But I remember myself at the last moment, pulling back. Her fingers have frozen on the nightstand, so I reach over past her and grab a condom myself.

As I sit back and slide it on, I tell her, “Roll over.”

She blinks up at me, probably still dazed from her last orgasm. “Roll over?”

I reach down and gently flip her over onto her stomach, then slide my hands beneath her hips and pull her up onto her knees. I lean down so I can speak right into her ear.

“I told you I wanted you half a dozen more ways before morning,” I murmur into her ear. “I thought we’d start like this. Unless you oppose?”

“No,” she breathes. “No, I don’t oppose.”

“Good.” I suck her earlobe between my teeth before rising just enough to guide myself into her again.

We both moan as I sink into her. God, and I thought she felt good the first time. I want to go slowly, to tease her with my cock the way I just teased her with my tongue, but my need is too great for that. Elle is trembling beneath me, unsteady on her hands and knees, and though I know I should have given her more time to recover, all I can think about is how much I want to make her come again. How much I want to feel her shudder around me one more time.

My fingers dig into her hips as I move against her. After a moment, I let one hand dip down between her legs, and I’m rewarded with a whimper as I brush my thumb across her clit. Though I’m enjoying the view of her curves from this angle, I find myself leaning forward again, aching to feel more of her skin against mine. I can’t move as fast like this, but it allows me to go deeper, to possess her body more fully.

It’s never been like this. I’ve been with a number of beautiful women, many of whom were quite skilled in bed. But I’ve never felt possessed like this before. It’s not only a hunger, a desire, no—it’s a need I feel in my very core. I want to claim this woman in every sense of the word.

Suddenly this isn’t enough. I need to see her face. Need to look into her eyes.

I pull back and grab her, flipping her over before she has the chance to say a word. Her hair spills around her on the pillow. Her breasts heave with the force of her breaths, those beautiful little nipples rising and falling. Her eyes flutter open, and I catch her gaze with mine as I lean over her again.

“I needed to look at you,” I say by way of explanation. “I needed you to look at me.”

Her lips fall open, but she doesn’t say anything. She only nods. And then I’m inside her again, and I keep my eyes on hers the entire time, watching the emotions play across her face as we move against each other. Her body meets mine with every thrust. Her hands come up and dig into the skin of my back, and her eyes never leave mine.

I watch her feelings flicker across her face, too fast and too numerous to identify properly. I watch her react to the sensations moving through her body. Watch her eyes widen when I surprise her, watch them droop when her pleasure begins to build to its peak again. And when she finally comes, I know it by the look in her eyes even before I feel her body tightening around mine. My release follows shortly after, and the moment it does I close the distance between our faces and kiss her fiercely.

It’s not until some time later, when she’s sleeping against my chest, that my mind wanders back to the decision I know I’m going to have to make.

I knew Elle wouldn’t be just another woman for me. But this…this goes beyond that. It goes into territory I have yet to experience. Territory I’m not sure I’m ready to experience.

I tilt my head and look down at the woman in my arms. My fingers splay against her back, pulling her closer to me. She’s so beautiful, and I so deeply appreciate the view of her bare body wrapped around mine, that I find it difficult to breathe. And after what we just experienced together…

If it’s like this for me, I can’t imagine what it might be like for a woman who was already in an emotionally vulnerable place.

And she has no idea what she’s getting into. She doesn’t know what my brother threatened to do. Even if I could convince him not to make good on his threats, she still isn’t prepared for what the press will do when they find out who she is. This will only end poorly for her. I saw how passionate she was about her work in the clinic. It’s the work she was meant to do. If she loses that, if I cause her to lose that…

I squeeze my eyes shut. I might try and convince myself otherwise, but the more time I spend with her, the more it’s clear I only have one choice. If I didn’t care for her, if I only cared about enjoying her in bed, I could continue this affair. Let the chips fall where they may. But I do care. I care a lot more than I feel comfortable admitting. And that means I need to be thinking about her, not just myself.

Which means ending this now, before my brother does anything rash. Before the press finds out. Before either of us falls in deeper than we already have.

* * *