Page 169 of Lavish

“Why?”

I didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to have to go down that path.

My life was calculated. All of us Kings didn’t have total free will. I couldn’t put that on Noelle. She deserved a life filled with joy, not the turmoil I knew bringing her into our family would cause—a fate I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.

If an action didn’t increase profits for King Enterprises, it was inconsequential, a waste of time and resources. I knew that. She did too.

I had to nip this shit in the bud now.

I reached up and caught her wrist—gentle, but firm enough that she stilled. Her skin was warm, soft as silk, the pulse at the base of her hand fluttering beneath my thumb like a trapped bird.

My palm engulfed her wrist easily, but she didn’t pull away. Her lips parted slightly, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stared at me, her eyes wide. I let my hand drift slowly down her arm, feeling the goosebumps rise on her skin. Over the soft bend of her elbow, along the inside of her forearm.

I swallowed, forcing the words out. “Thank you for the sandwich, really.”

Noelle was something I’d never be able to have. And I had to be fine with that.

God help me. I wanted to pull her closer. Bury my face in her neck.

But the phone buzzed again.

“Erik…”

“I have to take this,” I muttered.

It took her pulling back for me to release her. I felt myself ensnarled in her hazel eyes before I forced myself to turn around and walk to the other side of my desk. I didn’t bother being cordial when I picked up the phone. “What?”

Some analyst started rambling about margins, stockholders, the upcoming acquisition. Words that once used to mean everything.

Noelle didn’t say anything at first.

She waited. Watching. Seeing if I would eat.

I bit into the sandwich. It was actually the first thing I’d eaten all day. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the slight curve of her lips.

A smile. Small. Satisfied.

“Good?” she asked.

“Fantastic,” I said, and the analyst paused.

Then she started to back away.

Her hair swung over her shoulder, a cascade of auburn, as she turned to the door. She opened it slowly, her eyes sparkling as she gave me another one of those sweet smiles, a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes, before she stepped out.

And when she was gone, the door clicking shut behind her, her faint perfume lingered in the air.

I stared at the door.

I should have stopped her. I should have told her she was the only thing that made this all bearable.

But life was fucked up like that. Life doesn’t bend for men like me, even with the money and cars and access. Men like me don’t get to want.