Chapter 10
Delilah
I stare up at Xavier, the raw emotion in his voice clawing at my heart. His devotion is fierce and terrifying. Has he been mistreated for so long that his view of affection is distorted? Or is this all-consuming passion for me love in its purest form?
“Xavier.” His name is a whisper filled with every unspoken question and unsaid desire. It’s a prayer and a curse, a song and a lament.
He tilts back my head, bringing our faces close, his presence enveloping me in warmth. “Be my girlfriend, my wife, my lover. Be the woman at my side, not at my back. Be my everything, and I’ll give you anything.”
“Xavier, I . . .”
The words falter on my lips, not out of apprehension, but from the overwhelming rush of emotions. How do you respond to someone who offers you their world? How do you handle the responsibility of being everything to someone?
By giving everything to them.
The answer comes to me, beyond words or mere sound. It’s the pull of an invisible force that draws me to him. It’s the way my body leans toward him without a command, the way my heart races at his voice and my skin warms at his touch. It’s the way I can’t imagine my life without him.
“Delilah, say something,” he rasps, his voice full of desperation. “I’m dying here.”
“Okay.”
His laughter is full of surprise and amusement. “That’s it?”
“I can’t explain what I’ve never experienced.”
“Fuck, isn’t that the truth?”
I close the distance between us, offering my feelings with a kiss. One that tastes like desire and devotion, love and longing.
His response is immediate.
After planting his fist in the pillow next to my hip, Xavier slides his fingers through my hair to grip the back of my head, angling it as he deepens the kiss.
When I kiss him back, he groans, the low sound vibrating against my lips. The pressure of his mouth on mine is intense, an intoxicating combination of power and dominance that has my senses reeling. He devours me, capturing the very breath from my lungs, stealing it to fuel his passion.
And I let him.
I give myself to him, allowing the kiss to consume us both. There are no boundaries, no barriers, nothing between us. The intimacy is so profound it makes my head spin and my chest ache. I don’t want to fall in love with Xavier Donovan.
But the descent into emotional vulnerability has already begun. And it’s gaining momentum.
When he pulls back, his breathing is ragged, similar to mine. His pupils are blown with lust, and the silver of his eyes gleams with buried emotion now lingering at the surface. Vulnerable and laid bare for me to see.
“Do you know what you do to me?” he asks.
I shake my head, my lips parted as I stare up at him. His gaze reflects the feelings ricocheting in my chest.
“You drive me fucking crazy with a single glance or a simple touch. So insane that I can’t stop thinking about you when you’re gone.
It’s worse when you’re near because then I can’t help but touch you, wanting to claim every inch of your body with every part of mine.
There’s no cure for the way I feel about you. And I don’t want one.”
I smile up at him. “You’re definitely a psychopath.”
“You’re the reason.”
“If you say so.”
He returns my smile with his own before he climbs on top of me, straddling my hips while being mindful of my wound. Then he grabs the headboard on either side of my head, caging me in completely.
“I’m going to fuck the shit out of you,” he says, nipping at my lips. “Once you’re healed, I’m not holding back. You might end up in the infirmary again.”
“Okay,” I say, breathless.
“Okay?” He arches a brow. “I’m serious.”
“So am I. It’s a good incentive to heal faster.”
His expression shifts, becoming serious. “But no golf cart?” When I shake my head, he frowns. “Then what type of gift will you accept?”
“I don’t want anything. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’ve never had material things, and I don’t need them now.”
“It’s not about you needing them. It’s about me wanting you to have anything you desire. No matter how big or small.”
I reach up to trace the length of his jaw. He briefly closes his eyes at the contact and breathes deeply. Is he pleasured or pained by my touch?
“The things I want can’t be bought,” I whisper.
His offer to grant my deepest desires isn’t lost on me, but it won’t make a difference. My heart holds dreams too intangible for any amount of wealth to procure. Safety, love, and purpose.
Security is a basic concept, but it’s been so elusive in my life that I feel as if I’ve always chased it. Not just the absence of physical danger, but the safety to be myself, vulnerable and flawed.
This comes from love.
The true kind, unmarred by conditions or expectations. The type that sees through my walls, reaching into the depths of my soul where the real me resides. A love that chooses to stay, no matter the challenges.
And my purpose would be to protect this love and anything that arises from it. Whether that be a life together, children, or both. If I were to be safe and loved, I would do everything in my power to keep it.
Xavier offers a glimpse of what could be . . . if I were to give him my heart.
If the Order doesn’t destroy us first.
“What good is being filthy rich if my girl won’t let me buy her things?” he mutters. “What are these things that can’t be bought?”
I press my lips together and shake my head.
“Delilah . . .”
I drop my gaze at the warning in his voice. Xavier’s frustration isn’t unfounded, but I can’t find the courage to share my innermost thoughts.
His question, simple yet loaded, hangs unanswered as I struggle to navigate the web of needs and desires within me. What I want is made up of passion and moments, not possessions and money.
His stare drills into me as if he’s mining for the things buried in my mind. “Do you think I’m going to make fun of you?”
“I hope not.”
“I won’t,” he says, his tone resolute. “Whatever’s important to you is important to me.”
I flick my eyes to his. The weight of his gaze is too much, pushing me toward a confession I’m not ready to make. But the determination that wrinkles his forehead, the earnest need on his face to understand me, fractures my walls.
“I didn’t grow up having things, so they’ve never been a priority. Would it be nice? Sure, but that’s not what would make me happy.” I cover my face with my hands when his stare becomes overwhelming. “I can’t articulate what I want because . . .”
He gently pries my hands away to frame my face with his palms. “Because?”
“I’m worried you’re the only person who could make my dreams reality.” I drop my voice to just above a whisper as fear wraps around my heart and squeezes. “It’s scary to want something that might not happen. The disappointment would crush me.”
Xavier’s expression softens, the frustration from earlier melting away. “I understand that more than you know. The only difference is I’m not afraid to go after what I want. That’s how I ended up winning you.”
I shrug, ignoring the way my heart stutters in my chest.
“I knew what I wanted and made sure to get it,” he says, giving me a pointed look. “Now, what I want is to give you something. If you don’t give me a hint, I’ll buy you a yacht next.”
“You’d better not. The very idea makes me uncomfortable.”
He grins at me. “You should get used to wealth. Whatever I have will be yours someday.”
I shake my head vehemently, dislodging it from his grip. “Don’t say things like that.”
“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want, especially if it’s the truth. You will be Mrs. Xavier Donovan. You’ll have access to the authority and power that comes with my name. Our name.”
“If you’re going to be stubborn about it, then at least give me something that shows what I mean to you,” I say, the words tumbling out, clumsy and honest at the same time.
Although I’d say just about anything to get away from the subject of marriage.
As much as I’m beginning to care for Xavier, I can’t imagine being legally bound to him right now.
His eyes gleam with understanding. “Of course you’d want something like that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s never been about the cost of the gift, but the value it holds to the receiver. You want sentiment, not splendor. I should’ve seen that, but I was too blinded by my guilt.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this,” I mumble. I clear my throat and lift my chin. “My injury wasn’t your fault. Well, not in the way that matters. The Order forced your hand. I heard your conversation with Ben in the clinic, and I know you were just protecting me—in a fucked-up kind of way.”
He leans down and rests his forehead against mine. Then he exhales, the sound like the release of a thousand unspoken words. “You have no idea what it means to hear you say that.”
I close my eyes against the onslaught of emotions slamming into me at his confession. The effect I have on this man is unbelievable. The effect he has on me is unrelenting. How did I ever think I could walk away from this bride contract unscathed?
Or walk away from Xavier at all?
“Open your eyes,” he says.
I do, and the expression on his face has my stomach somersaulting.
“You’re blushing.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “Why?”
“I’m not.”
He brushes his knuckles across my cheek, the heat of my skin transferring to his. “You are, little raptor. Tell me why.”
“You’re looking at me like . . .”
“Like?”
“I don’t know. Like I’m everything.”
“You are.”
I swallow the nerves gathering in my throat. His gaze flits to the movement, and when it returns to mine, his eyes are liquid silver. “When you say things like that, it makes me realize how much I don’t know you. This feels very one-sided.”
His lazy smile disappears. “That might be true.”
“No, it is. Trust me. I might know how you react in certain situations, and what you project to the world, but that’s not the same. I want to know about your past, your dreams, and your fears. The things that make you . . . well, you.”
Xavier’s brows snap together. He shifts on the bed to sit beside me, arms folded, his expression guarded. The change in him is significant, and regret fills my body like lead, weighing me down.
“Hey, I’m—”
He lifts a hand to silence me. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. I don’t know how. The things that have happened to me, the things I’ve gone through might change how you look at me. That’s the one thing I can’t handle.”