33. Isla
ISLA
Standing in the middle of Aiden’s kitchen wearing the dress shirt he’d discarded on the floor earlier, Isla lifted the kettle from the counter and poured the boiling water into her teacup.
Steam warmed her face, the fragrant scent of tea leaves filling her lungs.
She smiled as she heard Aiden’s footsteps approach from behind her.
Aiden slid his arms around her waist, smelling of soap and aftershave, and then he nuzzled her neck. “I could get used to the sight of you in my kitchen wearing nothing but my shirt.”
Turning, she found him wearing an undershirt and gray joggers, his hair still damp from the shower they’d taken together. He’d stayed behind in the bathroom to shave while she went to make tea. But between having sex immediately after coming in the doorway, then showering, they’d barely talked.
She lifted her lips to receive his kiss. “I’ll have you know, this is about where my culinary skills end. I can boil a kettle and make decent scones, but I survived primarily on takeaway until I moved back with my mother, who does all the cooking for me now.”
“I can’t remember the last time I turned on my stove if I’m honest. There’s never enough time to eat here.”
Isla let her gaze wander over the modestly-sized kitchen. For a man worth billions, Aiden certainly didn’t live like one. The kitchen was clean, not a speck of food or clutter on the counters. He’d barely had anything in the fridge when she’d opened it earlier to look for milk.
She got the feeling this wasn’t a home—not really. A place to sleep, yes. To shower.
To pass through.
Aiden moved her teacup and the kettle to the side, then lifted her onto the counter. Pushing her knees apart, he stepped between her legs and slid his hands up her thighs. He leaned toward her and pressed a kiss to the curve of her throat. “Spend the night with me tonight.”
She gave a moan of approval. “I can’t. I walked out on my mom and Callum when you texted earlier. I told them the production team needed me for an emergency meeting. They didn’t question it, but they’ll definitely think it’s strange if I stay out all night.”
“The irony of you keeping this hidden isn’t lost on me—especially considering you didn’t want to be a family secret.” Aiden pulled back and searched her eyes. “But I promised Liddy I’d tell Callum tomorrow. It has to happen.”
She furrowed her brow, ignoring the guilt that came with his words. She had prolonged the secret.
She’d had to.
“We can’t tell him tomorrow. It has to be on Sunday.” Then she shook her head. “I don’t understand why you told Liddy?—”
“She said that there had been some drama with you. That I shouldn’t pretend I didn’t know about it. I just assumed that?—”
“That it was about us.” Isla grimaced. “No, that wasn’t it.
” She drew a deep breath. “Do you remember how I told you Boyd wanted to film at Liddy and Callum’s party?
I forgot to ask him even though Davy sent me all the paperwork to get his release, and the production team planned around it.
Davy asked me about it on Monday. We got into a fight, and I realized there wasn’t any way to get Callum to agree to it—which I barely did— and tell him about you.
So, it has to be Sunday, after the party.
Besides, it would be so much drama if we tell him beforehand. ”
Aiden pulled back, his brows raising. “Isla, that’s going to make everything so much worse for us.”
“I know, but the production is a more immediate issue?—”
“I don’t care about the production.” Aiden’s blue eyes flashed with anger. “I care about you . About trying to salvage my friendship with your brother. If we wait to tell him until after the party, he’s going to not only feel lied to but also taken advantage of. Not to mention, I promised Liddy.”
She stiffened at the intensity of irritation in Aiden’s tone.
A defensive feeling uncurled in her gut. “Well, it’s done already. If I tell him tomorrow, he could back out of allowing the production team into the party. I didn’t know what else to do?—”
“Well, to begin with, you could have talked to me about it.” Aiden stepped back. “Considering this affects us both. You can’t just say it’s done. How would you like it if I said the same thing about promising Liddy to tell Callum tomorrow?”
Her jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be joking. You’re the one who told Liddy in the first place. How is that my fault?”
“I wouldn’t have told Liddy anything if you’d just communicated with me about the situation with the production crew—not that I would have supported it. We can’t do that to Callum, Isla.”
She threw him a glare, reaching for her teacup to calm down. “And when was I supposed to tell you? You’ve been working nonstop, Aiden. I barely hear from you once you go into work mode. That’s all you have time for.”
She’d aimed the barb well enough—he flinched.
“You knew who I was when we started this, Isla. I’ve been working on the most important business deal I’ve ever done in my life for the past few weeks.
A deal vital to the company. Yet I’ve taken the time to visit Texas, Arkansas, and Tennessee—for you.
In the middle of everything. I can’t give any more than that. Take it or leave it.”
Isla closed her eyes, gripping the edge of the counter. What are we doing?
This was exactly how things would always be between them.
Her getting the scraps of his time.
Resentment and worry bubbling in the background.
She could see it now.
And if this was how they were starting, wouldn’t it only get worse?
What hope did they have?
Yes, they had chemistry. The sex was incredible.
But new love couldn’t withstand so much opposition, could it?
Drawing a shaky breath, she hopped down from the counter, then scooted away from him.
She headed straight for the bedroom, where she’d left her clothes scattered, and started to gather them from the floor.
Aiden followed her. “You’re leaving?”
Isla didn’t look at him. She could barely think straight, let alone respond yet.
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.
Aiden was supposed to be a soft place to land.
I love him. But would that be enough? The last they’d discussed it, they were getting their marriage annulled, he was always going to be busy... and our lives don’t naturally intersect.
“Take it or leave it . ” The blunt way he’d just said that sliced through her heart. No room for the communication he claimed he wanted.
“Isla.”
“Look at us, Aiden,” she said in a strangled voice. “We’re already fighting. How can you draw a line in the sand like that and expect me not to leave?”
She straightened and started unbuttoning his shirt, not particularly wanting to get naked around him now. But she also didn’t want to be in his shirt for one second longer.
Aiden crossed the room toward her, then scooped her into his arms.
She struggled against him as he lifted her. “What in the hell are you doing?”
“You can’t leave in the middle of an argument like this.” He set her down on the bed gently.
As he sat beside her, tears formed in her eyes. She blinked rapidly, not wanting him to see her crying, but he was already there, cupping her face in his hand with an aching tenderness, swiping just below her wet lashes with his fingertips. “I don’t want to do this. I can’t stand seeing you cry.”
His forehead pressed softly to her own. “I’m sorry, Isla. I’m sorry I wasn’t available to talk to, and that you felt alone in deciding all this with the production. God, darling, I’m sorry for all of it. You make me want to leave everything behind for you.”
Her heart ached so deeply at his words that she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on to him as though he was a tether keeping her steady.
“No, you’re right,” she said with a sniffle. “I’ve made everything so much worse for you with Callum. We’ll do it your way and tell him tomorrow. About everything—being together, the marriage in Vegas. What you want is more important that the production.”
A soft, sad smile crossed his lips. “It’s almost ironic that Callum always joked I’d never marry. I doubt he’d ever expect my wife to be his sister, either.”
He cupped her face. “You’re the only woman I want, Isla. And I don’t know what you want anymore, but you need to understand that. You’re it for me.”
Her throat clenched and she lifted her mouth, kissing his neck softly. “Keep calling me wife and I’m going to think you want it to be real, husband. ”
Aiden released her face, setting his hands on either side of her on the bed as he stared down at her. He searched her eyes for a moment. “I do want that.”
Isla’s mouth opened with a gasp and she held his gaze.
Is he serious?
“I don’t know what happened in Vegas, Isla, but I know that something brought us together that night. Maybe something deep within both our subconscious. And at that moment, we picked lifetime commitment, of all things. To each other.”
She swallowed, trying to process his words.
Is Aiden asking me to be his wife?
“You want to stay married?” she whispered, barely daring to voice the question.
“We don’t have to decide right now. But we also don’t have to rush to annul it.” He added quickly, “If you don’t want to.”
Is that what I want?
To be married to Aiden?
And why wasn’t she freaking out about the possibility more?
Instead, the thought made her strangely happy.
She searched his eyes, her heart racing. “I think . . . I think I do want that.”
He smiled. “Really?”
“I know it’s crazy. But I don’t want to annul our marriage either, Aiden. Being with you feels like the part of my life that was always missing. Nothing has ever felt more natural. It’s like breathing. But are you sure?”
“I love you, Isla. I’ve never been more certain of anything— or anyone —in my life. I know our lives will be difficult to mesh, but I’d rather face all those obstacles with you as my wife than to face the possibility of you not being with me.”
She smiled, locking her wrists behind his neck. “Call me your wife again.”
His mouth drew closer to hers, until his lips brushed hers with the barest pressure. “My gorgeous wife,” he whispered against her mouth.
Oh God.
She shivered with delight, then consumed his mouth with a deep kiss, holding him firmly down against her.
Marriage had never sounded sexy , so why in the hell was this turning her on so much? Was this some secret fantasy of hers she’d never realized she had and they were just role-playing through it?
But they weren’t—were they? He really was her husband.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling his body down on top of hers. Tearing her mouth from his, she drew her lips to his ear. “I need you naked. Now.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” he said, pulling back. Heat simmered in his eyes as he stared at her. He removed his joggers and shirt, then leaned over her. Gripping the lapel of the shirt, he gave it a sharp tug, and then buttons popped off, flying across the room.
“God, you’re so fucking hot,” she breathed, drinking in the sight of the hard planes of his chest, the military tattoos on his strong biceps, the lean, ropy muscles of his forearms.
He smirked. “You liked that trick, did you, darling wife?”
He fucking knows he’s riling me up with that word.
She bit her lip. “I swear to God, you’re going to make me come just by calling me that.”
Aiden knelt before her, pushing her legs apart, then reached down to glide his fingertips over her wet entrance. “You really do like it, don’t you? Horny little wife.”
Isla let out an appreciative moan as he flicked her clit.
He pushed his cock inside her, the sensation robbing her of all rational thought. “ Oh yes, Aiden—please. I need you so much.”
Aiden leaned over her, and she wrapped her legs tightly against his ass, pinning him deep inside her. As his lips found hers once again, he pulled his hips back, pulling out most of the way, then sank deep inside her again with a thrust that made her scream.
Fuck.
“Yes, baby, like that. Deep inside me,” she groaned.
He pulled out again, then thrust harder, deeper, faster. Her hips rose to meet each thrust, receiving him as deeply as she could, their bodies moving with a rhythm that was perfectly in sync, her orgasm starting to build deep within her core.
They panted against each other, their mouths consuming one another’s in a full-throated kiss, his hands grabbing hers, fingers intertwining. As though they wanted to meld their bodies into one.
Together.
Maybe it was the argument, or the fact that he’d opened a cataclysmic door for them, but her body flushed with heat, the intensity of her need like never before.
Her legs trembled as the waves of pleasure built to a scalding point, each thrust, each moan, each whispered word of praise sending her higher and higher into a heaven of bliss unlike she’d ever experienced.
Then, as though a dam had broken, white-hot bliss broke through her, curling her toes, making her thighs fall slack. Then Aiden groaned, releasing deeply inside her, his arms tight around her as he slowed, then stilled.
Their bodies were slick with sweat, their chests heaving for air.
Isla pressed her cheek into the curve of his neck, relishing in the feeling of his heartbeat pounding against her own. “I love you,” she whispered at last.
“I love you, too, Isla.” Aiden breathed hard, then pulled himself free of her and rolled to his side. “Fuck, I’m exhausted.”
She took a moment to return to earth, then climbed out of the bed, went into his bathroom, and took care of herself. Running the warm water on the sink, she looked around for a washcloth, soaked and wrung it out, then returned to the bed.
Aiden still lay there, half asleep. She crawled onto the bed, then cleaned him off with the washcloth.
His eyes popped open. “Thank you,” he said, surprise in his voice.
“You take care of me. I take care of you,” she said with a gentle smile. “It’s the least I can do.”
She returned the cloth to the sink, then went back and got under the sheets beside him.
“What are you doing?” he asked, folding her into his arms.
The hell if I know.
But she didn’t say that. Wouldn’t say that.
She loved him.
“You asked me to stay, so I’m staying. Good night, Aiden.”
And even though everything felt like such a mess right now—and tomorrow would likely be a disaster—tenuous hope about the future sang through her heart.
This is where I belong.