The Frenchman Chosen Bride✔️(Completed)

Fifteen

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*****

Vanessa lay in the bed and tucked into a curled up position, for some time. Until the air began to chill her skin and she had to pull another blanket onto the bed to stop her teeth from chattering.

    This was what made her scared. Sleeping with him had opened her up, taken the scan off the wound...and now she was afraid there would be no way to stem the flow of blood. This intimacy had cracked her heart open completely. And there was no going back. No closing it off again. After this...she couldn't.
    What had she done...?

    The next morning when she woke she was in the bed alone, and knew that Rafael hadn't joined her at all. Her body ached with a betrayingly pleasurable ache as she got up and belted a robe firmly around her waist. When she went out into the suite she paled visibly when she saw him standing at the window, pristine in a dark suit. He ran a cool look over her as she emerged, feeling sleepy and tousled in comparison. Her heart hardened when she saw the look on his face.

    "Morning."

    "Morning."

    "I have to go to Paris for a couple days... something's pop up."

    She exuded what she hoped was an air of extreme uninterest, fighting the reaction of her body to the musky scent that reached her nostrils, the smell of which was bringing last night back to vivid life. Her voice sounded strained to her ears.
    "Fine.... I'll go back to the island later on. Nikita said something about meeting for lunch, so I might do that."

    Rafael was very still as Vanessa helped herself to coffee and a croissant. She moved over towards a chair at the other end of the table and had to walk past him. He blocked her way, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. He took the cup and plate out of her hand and put his hands on her arms. She carefully schooled her features before looking up, but started trembling when she took in the green eyes, smoky like last night, took in his mouth and quickly returned to his eyes. His mouth was far too potent.
    "Vanessa...no more of the startled rabbit. We can't go back after last night."

    He took his hands away and ran one through his hair impatiently. "Hell, Vanessa, you stopped pushing me away. I almost left..."

    Every self protective mechanism kicked in. She shrugged negligently. "It's no big deal. Rafael. I'm quite aware of what I did. We both got what we wanted."

    A hand came to her jaw, forcing her face up to his. She flinched inwardly at the hardness in his face. The lack of emotion.
The voice in his head would stop. He'd make it...and this was how.
"Good. Because when I get back we are going to be man and wife...properly...from now on."

    Vanessa refused to give in to the desire to run as fast as she could, stood her ground. She had got herself into this and there was no way that he would ever know how much it was going to kill her to be intimate, how much she feared her heart was going to break with every encounter, every time he left her so dispassionately afterwards.

    Why, oh, why had she been so weak? She'd hit the self destruct button. Spectacularly. And she couldn't even blame him! As he pointed out, she had pulled him back to her, had made the choice.
Rafael held her jaw in a light but firm grip and bent his head, his breath tickling her face for a moment before he touched his mouth to hers. Even now, despite her pain, the pull was too strong, the desire overwhelming to just sink against his body, pull him close, allow him full access.
"I'll see you in two days..."

***

Two days later, back in the castle, Vanessa was like a cat on a hot tin roof. Listening out for the helicopter or the limo. Trying to read and giving up. Watching the TV and giving up. She knew she was irritating Lovett by getting under her feet, and took herself out for a walk to burn off the excess energy.
As much as she dreaded seeing Rafael again, she hungered for him now in a way she never had before. She had convinced him in the past two days that she could do this...maintain a physical relationship and keep her feelings back. She couldn't fight him anymore. If she did, that razor-sharp mind would focus on her motivations and not let go until he'd found the beating heart of her.