Chapter 6
ANYA
He was worth it. She knew he was worth it because of all the sacrifices he made for her. She felt his love on her skin, on the way his eyes glittered when their gazes met. He loved her. And it wouldn’t make sense for her not to sacrifice her heart as well.
She loved him and she would not let this chance go.
Ifinish the sentence, then the paragraph. Every word flows out of me, one after the other. It’s so natural to write this story now. It feels like it’s always been inside me, locked away, waiting for the right opportunity to come out.
And it’s Bash. Bash’s kisses, the way he sets my body on fire. He urges my heart into inspiration, and this story flies out of my fingers. I finish the romance in what feels like record time. I barely eat, an hour mingling into the next. I only stop to stretch, hit the bathroom, and nap.
Three days after I started, I finished it.
I slump against my chair, staring at the words at the bottom of the page.
The End is the sweetest group of letters I could have read.
God, I’m so glad I made it. I actually did.
I wrote a story I love, one I connect with.
A story that makes my heart pound. A story I know more people will relate to.
The idea of other people reading my work used to freak me out. Now, with the story just right, I fear nothing. I know they’re going to love it as much as I do. Because there’s truth in the words I wrote. They’re all based on what I feel, and the heroine looks like me. This story is real.
Bash checked on me several times throughout the days, but he said nothing.
He’d knock on the door and crack it open an inch to make sure I’m fine.
He’d bring me snacks. And that’s that. He never said a thing, never tried to approach.
And I know it’s my fault. I pulled back.
I was afraid. Writing this book opened my eyes; it made me see how much Bash has at stake and how much he could lose.
I see it, and I respect it, and I still can’t deny this thing going on between us.
Turns out that when I put my feelings into words, they become easier to understand. And I’m in love with him. I’m in love with my bodyguard, my big, burly bodyguard who’s over twice my age. He’s so good and so brave and he makes me feel amazing. Powerful, even.
I am ready. I’m ready to take this jump. To make my move.
My book gave me strength. It made me brave. And I know life moves on and things happen, and maybe I won’t have another chance like this. Maybe I will never be kissed the way Bash kissed me. Like he needed my lips to breathe.
I shoot to my feet and across my bedroom.
God, I need him. I need Bash’s hands on me, but this can’t happen if my father’s in the house.
Bash wouldn’t put his guard down, not knowing he could catch us.
So I make my way to the door, open it, and dart down the hallway not waiting for Bash to follow me.
From the heavy sound of steps trailing after mine, he’s coming with me either way.
As soon as I enter the kitchen—the cook’s kitchen—I meet Edward’s eyes, our butler. He arches his eyebrows once he sees me.
“Finally out of your cave?” he asks with humor in his voice.
“I am! Just finished my book.”
He smiles professionally and gives me a nod. “Congratulations. What would you like to have as a celebration snack? The cook is about to start on afternoon tea. I can ask him to bake a cake.”
I smile back. “That would be great.” And very sweet of him, but I’m looking forward to having another kind of cake today. Just need to ask him one thing. “I was wondering if my parents are home?”
Edward always knows of my parents’ whereabouts. It’s much easier to ask him than go opening every door in the house after them. I wait, bated breath, watching for Edward’s moves.
He shakes his head, and my heart shoots up to my throat. “Your father has meetings until late in the evening,” he says. “I was instructed he won’t be having dinner with us. Your mother is having dinner with her friends.”
My heart pitter-patters in my chest. “Thanks, Edward.” And I whirl around to find Bash staring at me. His eyes burn as I stare back at him. I would climb him like a tree right now if it wasn’t for Edward. Poor man doesn’t need to watch that.
I race back to my bedroom. Bash’s rushed steps follow me. The second I’m past my threshold, I meet his gaze. He stops, studying me, reading my face. His jaw clenches and unclenches, a muscle fluttering.
Courage overflows inside me. I meet his gaze head-on. “Bash.”
“Anya,” he breathes out, his shoulders squared. “We shouldn’t.”
“I know.” And I take a step closer, my chest brushing his stomach. “But I want you, Bash. I want you so bad it’s hard to breathe sometimes.”
His hard eyes soften for a moment, then they harden again. Something burns in his pupils and I’m afraid he’ll step away, leave me forever...
Until his big hands cradle my cheeks, and he kisses my breath away.