Chapter 27

Vivian

He could tell his nephews, but he couldn't mention it to me? Is that all I am in the grand scheme of things? An afterthought? To think, I missed him enough to track him down and come to the Sterlings' place in search of him. To think, I was going to reassure him, again, that there"s nothing between me and Felix, and that he shouldn't stay away from his own home—only to find he's making decisions about my future again... Without telling me.

I hear him behind me. I speed up, then break into a run. Thankfully, there aren't that many people, nor vehicles, on the road. I turn another corner and make for Primrose Hill High Street. His steps sound closer. No way am I going to make this easy for him. I blow past the entrance to Primrose Hill and race toward home. My speed slows down, my breath coming in pants. Damn, knew I should be doing something to get in shape.

"Raven, please let me explain." His voice sounds so close, I squeak, then give it everything I've got. Which, sadly, isn"t much. I make it a few more steps before he grabs my shoulder. I stumble, and he rights me, then applies enough pressure that I have no choice but to turn around to face him. I"m at eye level with his chest—his gorgeous, broad chest, with the planes outlined under his shirt. Unlike me, he doesn't have a coat on.

The demarcation between his pectoral muscles is visible in the opening between his shirt collars. I focus my gaze on that yummy expanse of skin, then curse myself when my nipples instantly perk up. The man exudes pheromones; that must be the reason every cell in my body is tuned into his presence.

"Let me go." I try to pull away.

"Not until you listen to what I have to say," he growls.

That harsh edge to his voice skitters across my nerve-endings. Pulses of sensation eddy down to my clit. A heartbeat flares to life between my thighs. No, no, no, you cannot think of how empty you are right now, or that you've been dreaming of how his cock will look when you wrap your fingers around it and squeeze it from base to tip. Also, why the hell isn't this man more out of breath?

A bead of sweat slides over his Adam's apple, then down the broad column of his throat, towards the open collar of his shirt. Before I can stop myself, I reach up and scoop it up.

I bring my finger to my lips and suck on it. His body grows still. It's as if he's turned into a block of granite—one wrapped in sinew and tendons, warm masculine flesh, and his complex male scent.

"I'm sorry," I say in a small voice.

"I'm not." He notches his knuckles under my chin, so I have no choice but to raise my head. My gaze collides with the deep blue sea of his. Flecks of green and grey twist in them. Turmoil, helplessness, lust and resolve. An unbending, unflinching, decision that reaches out to me and slams into my chest.

"Q"—I clear my throat—"no."

I'm not sure what I'm saying no to, but it feels imperative I claw back an inch of space, independence, freedom, an inch of something that"ll make me feel more in control. Something that'll help me hold onto a part of myself that'll ensure I maintain some mystique.

Then he bends his knees and peers into my eyes, and I know it's an illusion. I was never in control. I"m not the one calling the shots. I am not… making the decisions. My fate was sealed the day I looked into that drugging, mind-blowing gaze of his and lost my breath, and my thoughts, and was propelled into his trajectory to helplessly be trapped in his orbit. I've tried to break away, but every struggle has brought me closer to this collision. He's a black hole who's going to draw me in, trap me, swallow me completely, and I'll gladly accept it. There is no escaping. None at all. My entire life has led me to this moment. I swallow, and a tear drop escapes from the corner of my eye.

It's his turn to lean in and lick it up.

"Marry me," he whispers against my cheek.

A ripple of apprehension runs up my spine. And when he drops to one knee and takes my hand in his again, emotions crowd my throat.

"I'm so sorry I didn't come straight home and tell you about my conversation with Arthur and his insistence we get married right away. I'm sorry I decided to stop by the Sterlings' first." His throat moves as he swallows. "I never wanted to delay the wedding. But I was trying to do right by Felix. I felt so bloody relieved that the decision was taken out of my hands. Now, I don't need to wait before I can proclaim to the world that you"re mine. Not even the fact that Arthur"s dying could take away from the exhilaration I felt."

"Your father"s dying?" I gasp.

His features grow serious. "Stage three liver cancer."

"I'm so sorry." I twine my fingers with his. The anger I felt earlier fades. "No wonder you weren't thinking straight. It's difficult being faced with a parent's failing health. I've been through it with my dad.

His features soften, then he seems to get ahold of himself. "His prognosis is good, but it means, the time I have with him is shorter than I thought. I can't say no to him. I don't want to say no to him." He brings our joined hands to his mouth and kisses the back of my palm. "I should have come straight to you. I'm sorry I didn't. I… needed to get my thoughts in order. Needed to make sure that, this time, when I proposed, I"d get it right."

I nod slowly. "And I wanted to say, you have no need to worry about Felix. I know that's why you stayed away the last few days and I wanted to reassure you, I don't feel that way about Felix, at all."

"These last few days have been hell." His jaw tics, and his expression turns tortured. "When I thought there was a chance you wouldn't choose me… When it felt like you were getting further and further away from me… When I saw you with Felix?—"

"It meant nothing," I interrupt him. "You have to believe me, Q."

"I do." He swallows again. "I'm sorry my jealousy got the better of me. I'm sorry I'm not a better man. I'm sorry I can't level out the playing field for Felix more. I'm a heartless, selfish, arsehole who cannot—will not give you up. I'm the kind of insensitive, cold-blooded, self-serving, dominant who commands you to marry me." He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses the back of my palm. "Marry me for real, Raven, and make me the happiest man on this earth."

"What are you saying?" I whisper.

"Marry me, not as a marriage of convenience. Do me the honor of becoming my wife and give me the chance to make you my world. Give me the chance to meet your every need, to fulfill your every desire, to please your body and mind and soul, to ensure you never lack for anything. Marry me and allow me to make you the center of my actions, my passion, my devotion, my everything. Let me show you we belong together, that we were meant to be together. Marry me tomorrow?—"

"Tomorrow?" I gape at him. "That's... too soon."

"Not soon enough for me."

I begin to shake my head, and his hold on my hand tightens.

"—give me one chance to show you we were meant to be together. One chance, baby, please."

My heart melts in my chest. A tsunami of heat licks up the walls of my pussy. My clit throbs. My nipples swell. Every inch of my body seems to come to life. The chance to be with this man, to be his wife. The chance to experience the connection I felt with him when he made me orgasm. The fact that it feels like more than a physical connection. That it could mean he understands me on an emotional and a spiritual level. That he could be the one. I swallow.

"What do you say?" Tension vibrates off of him. His tone is strained. A vein pops at his temple, and the skin over his cheekbones is stretched. He looks like a man at the end of his tether. Like a man who'd give anything to get what he wants which, in this case, is me. He wants me. He needs me. He'll do anything for me.

For the first time, it's not me wanting to take care of someone else, but someone else asking to take care of me.So, will I give him that chance?