The Betrayal by Elisabeth Naughton

Author:Elisabeth Naughton [Naughton, Elisabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Elisabeth Naughton Publishing, LLC
Published: 2020-05-19T04:00:00+00:00

9

Natalie

I wasn’t sure what I was doing.

I hadn’t planned to invade Luc’s space. I’d only sensed he was hurting.

His story—the agonizing way in which he’d told it—had made me see him in a different light. I’d followed him with no plan, just a need to make sure he was okay.

But standing in the shadows in his bathroom, watching him under the spray of the shower, I felt the pain radiating from him in waves. And that pain was so raw, so fierce, so all-consuming, it pushed my feet forward before I realized what I was doing.

I stepped beneath the spray—clothes and all—and moved toward him.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t even flinch. But I felt his agony. Felt it wrap around my body and squeeze so tight my chest ached. And when I caught the heady scent of his skin—citrus and spice and musk—when his body heat seeped into mine, all my instincts told me to comfort him. To protect him. To reassure him he was not the evil monster he thought he was.

My pulse raced. Heat spread all through my belly, seeped into my veins, and prickled my flesh. Common sense told me I shouldn’t be here, but I didn’t care.

He needed this. He needed help. When his eyes slid closed, I lifted my hands to his chest and pressed my fingers against his damp skin, then inched even closer, until my nose and lips brushed his chest and he was all I could see.

His hands came up and cupped my jaw on each side, lifting my face toward his. And in that moment when our eyes met, I was sure the world stopped spinning. Everything else fell away until we were the only two people left on the planet.

His eyes were glazed. Pained. Sad. But lurking beneath all the sorrow, I saw hunger. And heat. And a passion I thought I’d only imagined back in Italy.

He groaned and lowered his mouth to mine. And I gasped and opened, unable to do anything but let him take me, taste me, and to kiss me so deeply, I forgot whose air I was breathing. To claim me, exactly the same way he’d claimed me in that elevator back in Rome.

My heart pounded hard. The blood in my veins turned to a roar in my ears. I reached for him, drinking him in like a desert traveler guzzles water in the middle of an oasis.

A growl rumbled from his throat, and then I felt myself moving. Felt the cool tile wall at my back. Felt my entire body melt when he pressed his hard, hot, very naked and very aroused body against my wet clothes and all but devoured me with his mouth.

All the reasons this was wrong seemed to slip from my grasp. I still had a dozen causes to be angry with him, but at the moment, I didn’t care about any of them. I just wanted this. I just wanted him. I just wanted us.

He drew back, his breaths fast and hot against my lips, and whispered, “I’m sorry.

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