He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 66

Her waist was so slender he could wrap a single arm around it.

His muscles were hard, his grip so powerful it nearly squeezed the breath out of her.

She could feel the waves of displeasure rolling off him.

And it was entirely directed at her.

"I wasn't trying to disobey you," she murmured. "I just can't make peace with her."

He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You don't trust me?"

"I'm sorry. I just can't trust anyone."

She placed her hands over the arm banded around her waist. "Can you let me go now?"

He released her. "I'm sleeping in here tonight."

She paused for a fraction of a second before continuing into the bathroom.

By the time she finished her shower, he had already taken his.

He was sitting in bed, leaning against the headboard in his pajamas, waiting for her.

She stood at the bathroom door for a long moment before finally walking over and lying down beside him.

The lights went out. Beneath the covers, the air grew stifling.

He shifted closer, resting a hand on her waist.

She stiffened, inching away, then subtly forced herself to move back.

After a few seconds of silence, he began to kiss her.

His fingers slipped past the fabric of her nightgown, brushing against her skin.

In the past, all it took was a single kiss or a suggestive glance.

The young, infatuated girl would have melted into his touch, completely overwhelmed with desire.

But tonight.

Despite his patient guidance, her body remained rigid.

"What's wrong with you?" he finally asked.

Taking a deep breath, she forced her muscles to relax. "Please don't consider my feelings."

She was responding, but she wasn't present.

He stopped entirely and turned her face toward him.

"You're truly disappointing, Ottilie."

"I'm sorry."

His legal fees were exorbitant. She needed to make sure he got his money's worth.

She rolled over, straddling him. "Let me do it. I'll be good."

She leaned down to kiss him.

His sharp, aristocratic features looked as dangerous as a blade.

Her eyelashes fluttered. "Who is it?"

He turned the screen toward her so she could see. "Spam text."

She glanced at it. The phone was still locked; it was just a notification bubble.

"Oh."

She slipped back under the covers, turning away from him and pressing herself close to the edge of the mattress to sleep.

She heard the dull thud of him setting the phone down. A moment later, a strong arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her back into the center of the bed and pulling her flush against his chest.

"It's too hot," she protested.

Pressed so intimately against him, she could feel every physical reaction his body was having.

He reached for the remote, cranked the AC down, and kept her locked in his arms as he went to sleep.

10:00 AM.

When she woke up, he was already gone.

She grabbed her phone and checked. There were no messages from anyone last night.

She checked her inbox. No new emails from Lachlan either.

Placing the phone face down on the nightstand, she lay there for a long time until a sudden shiver wrecked her frame.