Chapter 25 #2
"Isn't it?" Her laugh was brittle. "You kiss me, then you apologize and vanish. You make it clear you're only here in a professional capacity, then you sabotage my attempt to learn something useful from someone else. What exactly would you call it, James?"
I pulled the car over abruptly, tires screeching as we came to a stop on a side street. Having completely lost my senses, my body took over. I unclipped my seat belt and leaned over to her side of the car.
I grabbed her face trying to still be careful, but still ravenous for her. A cold wave seemed to wash over Evangeline as she stared, her breath hitching in her throat like a trapped bird.
A growl vibrated in my throat as our lips met, desperate, and the world collapsed into a silent, suffocating darkness.
My grip tightened as her lips brushed against mine, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm.
Slowly, I pulled my fingers to rest on her jaw and neck.
I could feel her pulse dancing under my fingers.
Evangeline opened her mouth, my tongue sliding in to meet hers.
This was my woman, mine, not anyone else's, not Frederick's, not Vicktor, not Nickolai’s, mine.
I claimed her mouth, our teeth clinking together as our tongues danced to their own rhythm.
She was delicious; dangerously intoxicating. There was no aphrodisiac in existence to counter her taste. I still had her head in my hand. I wanted her; I needed her, though I realised we were pulled over to the side and it was not safe, but I did not want to stop.
I noticed her slightly bruised and swollen lips. She opened her eyes, and we locked together once more. My jaw clenched, my voice a low growl. The words were a challenge, and a promise of retribution hung in the air. Then what she craved — my truth — came out.
"I'd call it watching someone I care about being manipulated by a man who clearly has ulterior motives," I said, my voice dangerously quiet.
"Frederick doesn't give a damn about your safety.
He sees an opportunity—a vulnerable princess with security threats who might need a strong shoulder to lean on. "
"And you would know all about that, wouldn't you?" she fired back. "Since you're an expert on using security concerns to justify controlling behavior."
"I'm trying to protect you!" I replied through gritted teeth.
"From what? From Frederick? Or from yourself?" She leaned closer, her eyes blazing. "Because the way I see it, the only thing you're protecting is your own fear of admitting how you feel about me."
"You want to know how I feel?" The words burst out of me, raw and unfiltered.
"I feel like I'm losing my mind every time I'm near you.
I feel like I can't breathe when I think about someone hurting you.
And today, watching him touch you, watching him use 'self-defense' as an excuse to put his hands where mine should be—"
I broke off, the admission too revealing, too honest. Evangeline's expression changed, anger giving way to something more complex.
"Where yours should be?" she repeated softly.
I looked away, unable to maintain eye contact during such vulnerability. "Fine. Yes, I pulled the fucking alarm. Because I couldn't stand watching him touch you for one more second."
"Finally!," she said, her voice still sharp with anger. "An honest answer. But that doesn't make what you did any less reckless or wrong."
"I know that," I said through gritted teeth.
"Do you? You endangered innocent people because you were jealous.
You abused your authority and created a false emergency that could have caused panic, injuries, or worse.
"Her voice was rising again. "All because you can't handle seeing another man near me—a man you had every opportunity to replace if you'd just been honest about what you wanted. "
My hands tightened on the steering wheel.
"What do you want me to say? That I hate when he touches you?
That every time he's near you, I have to fight the urge to remove him permanently?
That I've visualized exactly how I would do it?
" My voice was now a snarl, the words sharp and laced with a fiery resentment.
Her eyes widened slightly. "James—James, what did you just say?"
"I've used every rule in the book to kill another man," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Would you like me to recite exactly how I've envisioned tearing him apart and delivering his hands to you in a box?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Evangeline stared at me, her face pale, and I realised I'd gone too far. The violence in my words, the raw possessiveness—I'd shown her exactly what kind of man I really was.
"No," she said calmly, her voice steady despite the shock in her eyes. "I don't want you to do that to him."
The quiet certainty in her response cut through my rage like ice water. What the fuck was wrong with me? I'd just described graphic violence to the woman I was supposed to protect, all because another man had been near her. I felt like my sanity, was slipping through my fingers.
"Forget I said that," I said roughly, putting the car back in drive. "We're going home."
But as I pulled back into traffic, I caught her reflection in the passenger window. She wasn't looking at me with fear or disgust.
She was looking at me with something that looked dangerously like desire.