Chapter 9
Evie sat on the edge of the bed, frozen in place as the door clicked shut behind James. The silence in the room pressed down on her, broken only by the crackling fire in the hearth.
Her heart pounded furiously in her chest, and she wrapped her arms around herself, clutching at the robe as if it might somehow steady her. She stared down at the floor, her bare feet planted on the cool stone, her thoughts swirling chaotically.
Why was she so shaken?
Her mind, unbidden, drifted back to that kiss in the photo booth.
The memory of his lips on hers was still vivid, as though it had happened minutes ago instead of over a month.
She remembered the way her stomach had twisted, the way her breath had hitched, the way her fingers had gripped his shirt instinctively.
A month later, and that dismissal still gnawed at her. Why? It shouldn’t have mattered. It shouldn’t have bothered her. She’d told herself a hundred times since then that it was just part of the charade, part of the deal they’d made. And yet...
Her brows furrowed as she sat there, still and blinking, the realization striking her like a quiet thunderclap.
Did she want it to have meant something?
Her pulse quickened at the thought, a mix of frustration and longing surging through her. She groaned softly, tilting her head back and closing her eyes as if she could shake the feeling away.
The firelight danced against her skin, illuminating the conflict written across her features. She looked defeated and vulnerable in a way she rarely allowed herself to be.
Evie pushed herself to her feet, the robe falling loose around her shoulders, and paced to the door. Her hand hovered over the knob, her fingers trembling.
She wasn’t sure what she would say when she saw him, wasn’t even sure what she wanted from him, but she knew she couldn’t stay here. Not when every inch of her body screamed at her to follow him.
She yanked the door open and stepped into the dim hallway, her bare feet moving quickly across the cold stone.
She found him in the library, standing by the window, his broad shoulders tense, his head bowed slightly as he braced himself against the edge of a table. For a moment, she just watched him, her chest tightening at the sight of him so clearly trying to hold himself together.
She stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a deliberate thud that echoed in the stillness. He turned slightly at the sound, his face shadowed by the faint moonlight filtering through the window.
“What do you mean?” she demanded, her voice sharp despite the turmoil churning inside her.
James didn’t turn fully, his hand gripping the edge of the table as though it were the only thing keeping him upright.
“Evie, don’t push it,” he said, his voice low and warning. “I don’t want to cross any boundaries.”
Her jaw tightened as she took another step closer, her robe trailing behind her. “What boundaries, James? Because from where I’m standing, you’ve been toeing that line since the moment we met.”
He finally turned to face her, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made her breath hitch. His gaze roved over her, lingering on the loose knot of her robe and the curve of her collarbone where the fabric had slipped slightly. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.
“The ones,” he said, his voice rough and laced with frustration, “that make me want to rip that robe off of you and glare at you in that lacy white dress like I have no self-control.”
Her heart skipped a beat, her chest tightening as his words hung in the air between them. She should have been furious at him for saying something so brazen, but all she could think about was how much she wanted him to follow through.
“Do you have any idea,” he continued, his voice lower now, almost guttural, “how hard it was to watch you walk down that aisle? Like you were mine. Like you were supposed to be mine.”
Evie blinked, her lips parting as her pulse roared in her ears. She wanted to smack some sense into him, to yell at him for making this harder than it needed to be. But more than that—so much more—she wanted to smack her lips against his, to drown in the fire that burned between them.
“Then why are you running?” she asked, her voice trembling but steady enough to challenge him. “If that’s how you feel, why are you here and not upstairs?”
James let out a harsh laugh, running a hand through his hair again as if trying to physically shake off his thoughts.
“Because I can’t do this,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Not like this. Not when it’s all supposed to be pretend.”
Her throat tightened, her chest aching at the rawness in his voice.
“And what if it’s not pretend anymore?” she whispered, her question hanging between them like a dare.
James’s gaze darkened, his body taut with tension as he stared at her. The air between them felt thick and electric, a live wire waiting for a spark.
“Then we’re both in trouble,” he said, his voice raw and unguarded, the honesty in his words hitting her like a tidal wave.
Evie stared at him, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. His words echoed in her mind—then we’re both in trouble. She blinked, her gaze drifting as she fell into a deep, spiraling thought. Trouble. That’s what this was.
The way he looked at her, the way her chest tightened, the way her heart seemed to beat faster whenever he was near. It was trouble wrapped in temptation, and she couldn’t make sense of how much she wanted to lean into it, to let herself fall.
Her lips parted, her voice barely audible as she whispered, “I see.”
She stood there, unmoving, as her thoughts warred against each other. This was supposed to be pretend.
A carefully crafted performance for the world to see. Nothing more. And yet, she couldn’t shake the way he made her feel, the way every touch, every glance, left her burning. She closed her eyes briefly, her chest heaving as she drew in a shaky breath.
Then her eyes opened, and her decision was made.
“Then let it be pretend,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her.
James’s brows furrowed, confusion flickering in his expression, but before he could respond, Evie closed the distance between them in one bold, unthinking move.
Her bare feet made no sound against the polished floors, her robe brushing against her legs as she came face to face with him. She tilted her head back slightly, their breaths mingling as she whispered, her voice a daring challenge, “Rip the robe off.”
His eyes darkened instantly, his breath hitching as her words sank in. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth and the hammering of their hearts. And then, with a low, guttural sound, James’s control snapped.
He grabbed the edge of her robe in one swift, commanding motion, the satin parting with an effortless grace as he pulled it away from her body and let it fall to the floor.
The cool air brushed her skin, but all she felt was the heat radiating from him as his gaze roamed over her, unguarded and ravenous.
Before she could say another word, his hands were on her, firm but reverent, pulling her to him. His mouth crashed down on hers, the kiss fierce and consuming, as if he was pouring every unspoken word, every suppressed desire, into that single moment.
Evie gasped against his lips, her hands tangling in his hair as the world around them blurred. The library, the castle, the consequences—none of it mattered. All that existed was him, the intensity of his touch, and the way he made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t known was possible.
James backed her up against the heavy oak table, his hands skimming over her bare skin with an urgency that left her breathless. His lips left hers to trail down her jaw, then her neck and she tilted her head back, her soft moan breaking the stillness of the night.
In the middle of that library, surrounded by centuries of history and silence, they unraveled each other. It wasn’t planned, wasn’t perfect, but it was raw and electric and so damn real it burned. And for that moment, neither of them cared about what came next.
James’s lips claimed hers again, his hands roaming her body with a mixture of urgency and reverence. Evie let out a soft gasp as he lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping instinctively around his torso.
His firm grip on her thighs sent a rush of heat through her, and her hands tightened against his shoulders, steadying herself as he carried her to the edge of the table.
Her back met the cool surface, a stark contrast to the searing warmth of his body against hers. His mouth left hers to travel down her neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone, his breath hot against her skin.
His hands slid up her sides, his thumbs brushing just beneath her breasts, igniting a trail of sensation that made her arch against him.
Through the thin satin of her dress, his hand cupped her breast, his touch both firm and teasing as his thumb traced lazy circles over the curve.
Her breath hitched, and a low moan escaped her lips as his mouth followed the path of his hands. His tongue curled around the curve of her breast, tasting, teasing, his teeth grazing just enough to send a shiver racing through her.
“James…” she breathed, her voice trembling with a mix of longing and disbelief at the intensity of the moment.
He pulled back slightly, his dark eyes meeting hers, filled with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. Without breaking eye contact, his fingers found the delicate straps of her dress, sliding them slowly off her shoulders.
The fabric pooled at her waist, leaving her exposed in nothing but her bra and panties. The firelight danced across her skin, illuminating her in a way that made her look like a vision, like something ethereal and untouchable.
But she wasn’t untouchable—not tonight, not here.
James’s gaze roamed over her, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths as he took her in.