Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Say you will stay with me?” he whispered into my ear before biting the lobe. “Promise you will stay with me.”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I hugged him.
I’m so stupid.
This was totally not a breakup.
The one thing I’d come to do and I’d failed...just like my mom thought I would.
When I got attached, I really didn’t know how to detach myself.
“You have to say it, Odette.” He hugged me tightly. “I’m begging you; please say it.”
Every time I wanted him to let go, he held me tighter.
“I-I will stay.”
God, please help me, I thought as he kissed the side of my face, down my neck to my chest, kissing right above my heart.
I could feel him.
How hard he was getting against me.
But he stopped kissing and inhaled deeply, hovering over me. When he finally lifted his head, I found myself staring into his eyes, desperate for him. Instead, he said, “Rest, you’ve had a long day.”
“Is that all you want to do? Rest?” I asked, reaching and touching his head. Now that I had completely lost, I was just giving in.
“No,” he replied, shifting his body weight above me. “I want you naked under me. I want to be in you. I want to feel you against me and hear you moan my name. I want...to make love to you until the sun comes up, Odette.”
“Then do it.” God, I-I’m pitiful.
“The moment we get back to the palace.” He kissed my forehead before getting off me. Again, he took a deep breath and repeated the words. “Sleep. You’re going to the need the rest.”
I nodded, holding on to him.
Maybe this was a dream, and when I woke up, reality would slap me across the face again.
I held on to her, comforted by her breathing as she slept. It was clear how terrified she was. And my heart ached, knowing that choosing me was so hard for her. Us being together should be a moment of joy, yet I could sense how anxious she was.
I should let her go.
This was now so much more complicated.
There would be an uproar.
It was selfish of me to put her through this when even I wanted to run. But the moment Iskandar had told me she came to divorce me, I knew for sure, it had to be her. She had to be the one I spent the rest of my life with. Why? Because she was the only one trying to escape. It was amusing how the human brain worked. We wanted what we shouldn’t have. We wanted harder, not easier. I wanted someone true. I wanted someone to look at me and want me for me, not my title. Everyone who came before her wanted to be the wife of a prince. They all had their fairy tale made up in their minds. After my brother’s death, they all came again before his body was even buried because they wanted to be the future queen.
Noblemen, politicians, staff, and friends were all pushing women to get close to me. They thought I was still the old womanizing Prince Galahad. I had a baron who tried to introduce his daughters to me at my brother’s damn funeral. I could see the greed and the lust for more in their eyes—all of them salivating at the chance, like wolves over wounded sheep. So, I did not want to see anyone anymore. I focused on working. I buried my head, and in the process, left Odette to overthink and do what I had noticed she did best, jump to action. Run right away from me.
However, I knew she cared.
The way she fought back the tears, the way she held onto me, the way we kissed, I knew she cared more than anyone else ever had. She wanted just me and nothing else.
Finally.
So how could I just let her go?
If it were easy to find a woman like her, I would have found her long before. It was Odette. However, I could not abandon my family or the crown; all I could do was make her feel safe beside me, and I would.
I would fight to keep her this close.
Brushing the hair off her shoulder, I kissed her cheek, then rose from the bed, grabbed my phone, and stepped into the living room, closing the door behind me before I dialed.
“Yes, Adelaar,” Ambrose’s stern voice answered from the other line.
“Do you remember the profile my brother had you create last year?” I asked, walking to the windows. I could see the red roof of the palace in the early twilight hours in the distance.
“Yes, on a Ms. Odette Wyntor.”
“Do you remember what it was for?”
“I was never told what it was for, sir.”
I smirked. “Yes, but I am sure you assumed, did you not?”
“Yes.” He took a moment. “What shall be done now?”