Chapter 231
Her response was a burning glare and a sharp, “I hate you.”
The venom in her words was enough to startle most men, but Graham only laughed. He didn’t mean to–it just slipped out, a deep, rich
sound that filled the room. He knew it was the worst possible
reaction, especially when Isla’s face darkened further, her indignation
flaring hotter.
“Coffee, then?” he offered, lifting the pot to pour her a cup. Before he could, Isla snatched the cup out of his hands, her movements jerky with frustration. “I’m not a child. I can pour my own coffee.”
He set the pot down, raising his gaze from the jug to her flushed, fiery face. Her eyes sparked with defiance, her lips–full and pouty from pressing them together too hard–were as red as ripe cherries. Her hair was a tangled mess of black and brown curls, cascading around her face in wild disarray. She wore a soft pink bathrobe over her pajama set, her outfit lending her a softness at odds with the fire in
her expression.
It hit him suddenly, a realization that settled heavily in his chest: She keeps saying that–‘I’m not a child.‘ Over and over, like a mantra, as if she was trying to convince both herself and everyone else.
Chapter 231
And maybe that was the problem.
The truth was, Isla had never been allowed to be anything but the
little girl everyone insisted she was. From the moment she’d stepped
into the Lancaster household, she’d been showered with affection and
coddled with care. His father, Robert Lancaster, had adored her like a
beloved daughter, and the entire household had followed suit. They
had indulged her every whim, sheltered her from every harsh reality,
and, in doing so, kept her in a state of suspended childhood.
But Graham could see now how wrong they all had been. Isla wasn’t a
child anymore. She was a young woman–a breathtaking one–with
wide, expressive eyes that glimmered with fire and lips that seemed
to tremble with unsaid words. Sitting across from her now, he
realized how much she must long to be seen as she truly was, not as
the girl everyone had confined her to being.
Most women her age had lives of their own–friends who shared
secrets over late–night calls, parties where they danced until their
feet ached, and romances that set their hearts racing. Isla had been denied all of that. The thought brought a pang of guilt, but it was overshadowed by something stronger: the fierce need to give her the world she’d been kept from.
Yet when his thoughts turned to the kind of boys she might have encountered in that world, his jaw tightened. Teenage boys. Careless, selfish, driven by nothing but impulse and hormones. He’d been one
2/5
Chapter 231
of them once; he knew exactly what they wanted. The idea of Isla in
the clutches of some fumbling boy made his blood run hot with anger.
He wasn’t sorry she’d been spared that. Not at all.
But the rest?
He glanced at her, at the delicate curve of her neck and the way her
messy curls framed her face. She deserved the thrill of being swept
off her feet. The elegance of slipping into a gown that made her glow.
The excitement of stepping into a room and turning every head. And
he would make sure she experienced it all.
Except… it would be with him. Only him.
He imagined it vividly–her dressed in something stunning, her hand
resting on his arm as he escorted her into glittering soirées where
every eye followed them. He’d teach her to dance, his hand at her
waist, guiding her effortlessly across the floor. And when the music
faded, and the night gave way to something quieter, he’d lean in, his
lips brushing against hers until the world melted away.
The thought of her softness against him, her breath hitching as he
deepened the kiss, sent a rush of heat through him. If she wanted
passion, he would give it to her. If she wanted to feel like a woman, he
would make sure she felt every bit of it–every look, every touch,
every whisper of desire.
3/5
Chapter 231
A quiet, unconscious grin tugged at the corners of Graham’s mouth as
he thought about it–Isla’s first kiss. His mind replayed the memory
of that moment, the one where he had been the one to take it from
her. He couldn’t deny the thrill of it, the sensation of her lips against
his, soft and unfamiliar, yet somehow undeniably right. She had
pulled away from him quickly, retreating with the frantic pace of a
startled creature, but even in that moment of distance, a flicker of
something else lingered in the air.
Did she feel it too? He wondered. That electric spark, that undeniable
chemistry. She had been shocked by his touch–he could see it in her
wide eyes, her breath catching in her throat. But had she recoiled in fear or disgust? No. Her lips had not pulled away in rejection; instead, they had clung to his, even if only for a brief instant. Her hands, small and trembling, had gripped his shoulders with such force, leaving
faint indentations in his skin as if she hadn’t known her own
strength. She hadn’t resisted. She hadn’t fought. She had felt it, too-
the pull between them.
The memory of her lips, so soft and full, pressed against his, lingered in his mind like the sweet taste of ripe fruit, intoxicating and warm.
She hadn’t complained, hadn’t pushed him away. No, there was
something else there, something beneath her initial shock,
something that spoke of curiosity, of desire she wasn’t ready to name
yet.
Graham’s heart had thudded fiercely against his chest, a wild, erratic
4/5
Chapter 231
rhythm that matched the heat of her body so close to his. He hadn’t
known then, but he knew now–the way her lips had parted slightly,
the way her breath had quickened, told him everything he needed to
know. Isla hadn’t been repulsed by him; she had responded. She had
been affected, even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself.
He knew in that moment that he would be the one claiming her every
first – the first touch, the first caress, the first intimate encounter.
Comments
Write Comments
凸。
SHARE
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
