The Wrong Wife (Morally Grey Billionaires #5)(112)

"Sir," I whisper.

His lips curve. He wraps his thick fingers around the nape of my neck and places his forehead against mine. "I didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that again."

"Me neither," I confess.

He stills, his muscles turn rock hard, but he doesn’t react. He searches my features. "What changed your mind?"

I shake my head. "It wasn’t one thing." I slide my fingers down his throat to the part of his chest where I can feel his heart beating against his ribcage. "Or maybe, it was. I always knew this—the man you are at heart is a gentle, sensitive, perceptive soul who cares for others more than himself."

He scoffs, "You sure you’re not talking about Tiny—the first half, at least?"

I shake my head. "You tried to hide it, but I saw through it. You were cornered and made to fight for your life. You saw unspeakable things done to your teammates, your friends, the people you considered closer than brothers."

"And they were. Every single one of them."

"What you went through would have broken anyone else."

"It did break me, too," I remind her.

"But deep down, you wanted to survive. You wanted a way out."

"You," he says simply. "You were my way out. I saw you and knew it. And fought it every step of the way. But you carried me along, kicking and screaming. I resisted, knowing I wasn’t going to win this fight." He lowers his chin to his chest and presses his hand to the spot above my heart. "I wanted to win your heart but had no idea how to go about it. Indeed, the more I tried, the more it seemed I pushed you away. The more I wanted to win you over, the more I resisted that instinct. The more I wanted to be like your book boyfriends, the more I seemed to act more like the villain in a story."

"My favorites." I sigh.

He starts. "Don’t think I heard that right."

"Haven’t you realized by now, I’m drawn to the bad boy? The alphahole, the badass hero who’s possessive to a fault and who’ll do anything for his woman."

He raises his head and looks into my eyes. "You don’t have to humor me, Little Dove. I’ve been worse than a villain toward you. I’ve been obnoxious and mean, and someone who should be covered in red flags."

"Stop. If you say anymore, I might have to jump you right now, and that would be embarrassing."

He shakes his head. "You’re a strange girl, Little Dove. I’m trying to tell you all the reasons we shouldn’t be together."

"And you forget that I fell for Draco. He’s far more interesting than Harry Potter."

He frowns. "Meaning?"

"I have a thing for toxic boyfriends in not only my book life, but also in real life."

His lips twitch. "You realize, I’m not going to be like Draco anymore."

"Just as long as you’re Draco in bed, and Harry Potter everywhere else."

His forehead crinkles. "I think I understand what you’re saying. You should know one thing, though."

"What’s that?"

"I’m not ready to sleep with you… Yet."

"Wha—"

Before I can say anything else, he’s hauled me to my feet and is striding through the apartment, Tiny dogging his steps. He walks into his bedroom, then glances over his shoulder. “Sit, boy.”

Tiny sinks down on his haunches, and Knight kicks the door shut in Tiny’s face. “Aww, you could have let him in.”

“He’s had his fill of you; it’s my turn now,” he growls.

“Are you jealous of Tiny?” I choke out a laugh.

He huffs, “Of course not.” He heads straight through to the ensuite, where he places me on the counter next to the sink.

"Stay." He points a finger at me, then hesitates. "Please." He shakes his head, the muses, "I think I've been spending too much time around Tiny."

I nod, slightly amused by how hard he’s trying and how out of character it seems. I don’t want him to carry this new side of himself too far. I did say I want a Draco in bed, didn’t I? Do I need to be clearer about what that means? Surely, he understands I like that dominant side of him, and the kinky side of him too, when it comes to fucking me? I do want him to make love to me, but I also want him to take me so hard, I see stars. I squeeze my thighs together.

He arches an eyebrow at that but doesn’t comment. Instead, he pulls out his phone, and swipes the screen. The next second, a familiar tune begins to play over the speakers.

"Is that—?"

He nods. "The motion picture soundtrack from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part Two."

The familiar strains of Hedwig’s Theme fill the space. Goosebumps pop on my skin. The hair on my forearms rises. He tilts his head, and the expression on his features indicates he understands how deeply this music affects me. It reminds me of a time when I was young and innocent, when everything was possible. Everything is possible now, with him, in this space. With this complex man who hides his sensitive heart, I can have anything I want. He leans in, kisses my forehead, then moves away. I watch as he lights the candles he’s dotted around the bath, then retrieves a jar of bath bombs, tosses them into the bath, then runs the water. The scent of roses fills the air, infused with subtle notes of coconut and vanilla.