Chapter 31
31
Abe stood under the shower, letting the hot water sluice away the grime of travel. He leaned one palm against the cool tiles, closing his eyes as the steam enveloped him. Here in Fox’s secluded home, hidden from the world, the stress of the last few days eased from his shoulders.
Pen, Fox’s no-nonsense and rather intimidating housekeeper, had shown them to their rooms with forthright efficiency, and Abbie had welcomed them with the quiet warmth that had won Fox’s heart—fresh clothes already laid out and a promise of food whenever they were ready.
But as his body relaxed, his mind raced.
Freya was in the next room.
Fox had driven them through London’s early morning streets to meet Kat Landon, then straight on to his estate. Both journeys, Freya had been beside him in the back seat, close enough that her thigh pressed against his, yet the words from last night hung unspoken between them. With Fox at the wheel, there had been no chance for privacy, no moment to untangle what had changed between them. The need to talk with her alone gnawed at him.
Last night.
He’d always been able to compartmentalize, to lock away distractions when the mission demanded it. It was a skill honed from years as a SEAL, where survival meant precision, and focus was everything. Yet now, Freya’s presence was a constant pull.
What the hell was wrong with him? He’d been with women before—God knows his history wasn’t short on encounters—but Freya was different. The realization hit him harder than he cared to admit, a slow burn in the pit of his stomach.
Mariam had taught him a lesson he hadn’t forgotten—never let anyone too close. After her betrayal, he had promised himself, no more allowing women past the surface. Respect them, yes. Treat them well, sure. But don’t let them in, not to the parts that mattered.
And yet, without even trying, Freya had slipped past every defense he’d built. She was already closer to him than anyone had been since, hell, since he could remember.
Now, whenever he closed his eyes, he could feel her—her body softening in his arms, the way she’d trembled as he brought her to the edge
The connection unnerved him. It was more than physical. Something deeper. And he didn’t do deeper.
Was it just a one-off? A moment of weakness, circumstances pushing her into decisions she might regret? He didn’t know, but he wanted answers. Even though he knew she needed to rest, a more primal urge drowned out the voice of reason.
He wanted her. Needed her.
His memory, unhelpfully detailed, fueled his desire. The way her breathing had become erratic under his touch, how soft and wet she’d been.
She wanted me too.
His breath hitched, his cock hardening.
Fuck. He turned the shower to full cold and stood under the icy spray until his skin was numb and his head clearer.
Dried off and a fresh dressing on his shoulder, he pulled on clean shorts and left the ensuite bathroom, entering the vast bedroom with its imposing tall windows. The view of Fox’s estate stretched before him. It still blew his mind that Fox, one of the most down-to-earth men he knew, owned such isolated opulence. The lack of artificial light made the stars bright and clear.
His gaze drifted to the closed connecting door separating him from Freya. The breath-taking view paled compared to what lay beyond that threshold. His hand twitched at his side, caught between the urge to knock and the fear of what might happen if he did.
He blew out a breath and finished dressing.
Now or never.
He collected two glasses and a bottle of bourbon that Pen had provided on the dresser, then rapped on the connecting door.
If she told him no, he would fuck off, but he had to take a chance.
“Abe?” Her voice was close. The door opened.
Abbie had loaned her clothes, and she was wearing a loose t-shirt that skimmed the top of her thighs, her legs and feet bare. Her hair was damp on her shoulders. She looked nothing like the uptight scientist he had met only a few days ago. This was his Freya.
His Duchess.
Mine.
A knot tightened in his chest. His heart, so accustomed to staying guarded, felt fragile. She looked up at him through her lashes. Her eyes were dark, glinting with something that burned beneath the surface. A smoldering intensity that mirrored the storm inside him.
She felt it too.
More blood surged into his already rock-hard cock.
Fuck, she was beautiful.
“I thought you might like a nightcap.” He moved into the room, turning his back to her to conceal his erection. He placed the glasses and bourbon on the dressing table, pouring the amber liquid. The spicy scent teased his nostrils as he handed her a glass.
“What do you say?” he asked, his voice low.
She accepted the glass, her fingers brushing his. “I say thank you.”
He clinked his glass against hers. “Here’s to a safe resolution.”
“Safe resolution.” She sipped, her delicate throat working as she swallowed.
Abe cleared his throat. Focus. “I still don’t want you at this auction. It’s too dangerous.”
“I understand your concern, but it’s not your decision to make.” Her tongue flicked across her lips, pink and quick. It was all he could do not to groan. “Besides, I’m not sure there’s a choice to be made.”
“There’s always a choice, Freya. So much could go wrong. These people are playing for keeps. No limits.”
“True. But if we don’t take risks, we lose the opportunity for things to get better.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are we still talking about the laptop?”
“The laptop. Everything. It’s all connected, isn’t it?” Her pupils were dark, dilated, as her gaze dropped to his mouth. Lower.
Fuck. A surge of heat rushed through him. Her scent wound around him, clouding his rational mind.
She set her glass back on the table and stepped closer. “Choice can be a good thing.” Her hand slid behind his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin there. He stifled a groan as his body responded, every muscle tensing.
“Freya—”
“What?” Her lips were dangerously close to his.
He caught her wrist, pressing a slow kiss to its delicate inside. The taste of her almost undid him. “Are you sure about this? About what you’re choosing?” His voice was rough, barely restrained, and it took all his willpower not to lift her onto the bed and claim her right there and then.
Her eyes, luminous, locked onto his. “I’ve avoided so many choices all my life. Now, I’m done hiding. I want you.”
Fuck . Abe placed his glass on the table next to hers, his hands finding the narrow curve of her waist. He pulled her close, savoring the way she melted against him, her soft curves fitting perfectly to his hard planes. His palm glided over the swell of her ass, fingers slipping under her t-shirt hem. He traced the edge of her lace underwear, loving the way he made her breath stall.
“No one has ever made me feel like you do, Abe. No one has ever made me feel .”
“Freya.” There was so much he wanted to say—how different this felt, how right—but need was making it hard for him to think straight.
But he could show her.
“God, you feel incredible.” His hand traveled up her back, her skin blazing beneath his touch. His cock strained as Freya ground against him.
“Off.” She tugged his shirt free of his body and dropped it on the floor. Unrestrained, her hands roamed his arms, his chest, nails raking his skin in a maddening tease.
In one fluid motion, he scooped her up and carried her to the couch. He sat with her straddling his lap, her legs clamped against him. Here, he could touch all of her.
He gripped the hem of her t-shirt, lifting it over her head. Firelight bathed her skin in warm, golden hues, stealing his breath. He skimmed her breasts, nipples tightening under his touch. Her eyes fluttered closed, her head tipping back to expose the elegant line of her throat. Offering herself to him.
“Abe.”
“I’m right here, Duchess.” He kissed her throat, his hands gripping the soft flesh of her hips, knowledge settling deep inside him.
He wanted more than just this moment.
He wanted all of her—every triumph, every struggle, and for all the days to come.