Kate Hewitt - The Chatsfield - Series 2

“No. I guess I don’t.”

He reached out and grabbed her arm, tugging her forward. He regretted it the moment he did it, but not enough to release her. “I would not hurt you, little Sophie, I would never do that. No, what I am tempted to do is something that would bring us both pleasure. But in the end I fear it would be something that could cause incredible damage.”

Her eyes widened, her pupils expanding in her green eyes, erasing the color. Her lips rounded into a perfect O, and he wondered if they would feel as soft as they looked beneath his own. He wondered what it would feel like to press her curves up against his body, to run his hands down the elegant line of her spine and grip the curve of her bottom. But those were questions that would go unanswered. Because he was determined to turn away from this. Any moment, he would turn away from this.

It didn’t matter that his blood was streaking through his veins like fire, it didn’t matter that he was so hard he could barely think straight, it didn’t matter that he wanted to taste her more than he wanted his next breath. Because it was something that could simply not happen. Because control was more important than this. Because duty was more important than anything.

Because of Christine. Because of Leila.

Because of Jasmine.

Three women who were all more important than the one who was standing in front of him, and yet, he could not bring himself to let her go.

Which is why you have to. This is insanity.

He released his hold on her and took a step backward, trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

She pushed shaking hands through her hair, and guilt tore at him like a savage beast. “Oh, I guess I get what you meant now.”

“There is no need for us to speak of this again.”

“But...I mean... You can’t just pretend this didn’t happen.”

“We will. We will both pretend that it didn’t happen. Pretend I never said anything.” He turned away from her, keeping his eyes on the bland brown walls of the tent. “Now you know why I had to leave.”

“Because I tempt you?” The way she said it, with such innocence, with such wonder, only served to heighten the arousal that was already coursing through him.

“More than anything,” he said, his voice rough, almost unrecognizable even to his own ears.

“How is that possible? How can I possibly tempt you to do...anything?”

“You say that as though you have no idea of your appeal.”

“I don’t. I mean, you’re not the first man to ever hit on me, but I don’t think I can recall a man ever wanting me when he shouldn’t.”

He turned back to her. “There is a first time for everything, is there not?”

“I...I suppose so.”

He knew that he shouldn’t ask her the next question. Knew he should say nothing. And yet, the words burned in his mouth like hot coals. He had to spit them out, or swallow them whole, and leave them to burn him from the inside out. “Do I not tempt you?”

Her head jerked up sharply, her mouth falling open. “Do you tempt me ?”

“I will not repeat myself.”

“I would have to be the most foolish woman in the world, or a very classic sufferer of Stockholm syndrome, to be tempted by you.”

“And yet, that does not answer the question.”

She turned away from him, her shoulders rising and falling sharply with her breath. “Do you know, I’ve only kissed one man.”

“I do not understand where this story is leading.” All he knew was that the moment the words had left her lips, the desire that he felt coiling in his stomach had gone unbearably tight, his need ramping up to unendurable proportions.

When she spoke again, her tone was thin, shaky. “It was at a party at university. And he was very popular. One of those very upper-crust-type guys. The kind that I would’ve done well to align myself with. Anyway, we ended up sitting on the couch together, and at one point during the evening he leaned over and kissed me. It was very disappointing. And yet sort of a relief, too. Because I knew then that I wouldn’t feel anything like the madness my mother seems to feel for my father. I knew that I was above it. I knew that it would never be a temptation.” She turned back to him, her green eyes fierce now. “But for some reason I’ve been wondering what it might be like to kiss you from the moment I saw you. I should want to hit you, not kiss you. And yet I find it’s just all mixed up. I don’t know why.”

Her words hit him with the force of a punch. And he gave thanks for the fact that he’d had the good sense to leave last night. Had he not they might have woken up to a world of regret in the morning. As it was, he would take the stiff joints. He refused to even allow his brain to process the full implication of what she was saying, because he knew that way lay further temptation. And he did not think he could handle that.

“You need not worry about it. Because nothing can come of it.” He said it is a warning to himself, more than he said it to her. “You can go on as you have done, and I will go on as I have done.”

“Of course. Obviously.”

“Good,” he said.

His stomach tightened, his entire body screaming at him to give in. To chase the feelings that were firing through his blood.

But he could not. It was impossible. Now and always. No matter how much he might want it.

If there was one thing the years had taught him, it was that he desired things that would ruin him. That would ruin other people.

He had no choice but to deny himself.

When they were back at the palace, back in their own quarters, things would be easier. They had to be. Otherwise he would find himself sleeping outside in the cold again, just to try and get a handle on his control.

“All right, then, shall we go?”

She nodded, a determined light in her eye that had nothing to do with going to eat breakfast, he was sure. “Yes, ready.”

* * *

Sophie could feel the tension stretching between herself and Zayn in the close confines of the SUV. She should never have been so honest with him earlier. He should never have been so honest with her. What had they been thinking?

More to the point, it was disturbing that what had passed between them was honesty.

How could she be attracted to him? How could she have confessed all of her secrets to him, and how could she still want to kiss him? None of it made sense. She knew better than to expose her inexperience, she knew better than to let anyone know when she felt in over her head. And yet she had done just that today when she had confessed to him that she’d only kissed one man, and only once. And then she made matters worse by immediately confessing that she would like to kiss him. It was all bad. All very, very bad.

And it all felt worse now that they were sitting in the close confines of the vehicle, driving down the road that seemed endless, with no sign of civilization anywhere around them. But overhead, the sky was starting to change color. The pale blue taking on a silver edge as clouds formed, rolling in quickly, looking ominous.

The farther away they got from the dunes, onto harder ground, the worse it became.

“What’s happening?” she asked, looking out at the swelling clouds.

“Nothing good.”

“Like...not normal not good?”

“Worse,” he said, looking out the windshield and up. “It is normal. And I have a feeling I know what’s going to happen.”

Fear twisted her stomach. “What?”

“Are you familiar with flash floods?”

“What, like on a personal level? No, I can’t say that I am.”

“I fear we are about to have one. And if we are, then the best thing we can possibly do is pull over and wait it out.”