Page 143 of Secluded with the Rogue

Chapter 6

T he heated words they had exchanged moments before still hung in the air, but it was not just anger that simmered between them now—it was something much more dangerous.

Alexander’s heart pounded in his chest as he stared at her, the fire in her eyes matching his own. Her cheeks were flushed with emotion, her lips parted as if she was on the verge of saying something, anything, to break the silence, but no words came. Only the sound of their ragged breathing filled the room as they stood inches apart.

Damn it, why did she have to look at him like that? Like every word they hurled at each other was just a mask for something deeper—something raw and unresolved. The space between them was too small, and it made him feel dizzy, his emotions swirling in a confusing mix of regret, anger, and desire.

He had not planned to get this close to her. He had not planned on reopening old wounds. But here they were, standing in the middle of a storm, the world outside howling in chaos, and inside—inside was no calmer.

Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, her gaze locked onto his, and for the briefest of moments, the hurt between them seemed to dissipate, replaced by something far more primal. He could see it in her eyes—the same thing that had pulled them together all those years ago. The fire. The heat.

Genevieve took a step back, but it was not far enough. Not nearly far enough to stop the pull between them. He could feel it like a magnetic force dragging him closer even though every logical part of his mind told him to stop, to walk away before it got any worse.

But it was too late for logic.

“I should hate you,” she breathed, her voice shaking as she spoke.

Alexander swallowed, the tension in the room wrapping around him like a vice. “Maybe you should.”

She shook her head, her eyes narrowing. “But I do not. That is the problem. I do not.”

Her confession hit him like a punch to the gut. He knew this was wrong, that there was too much unsaid between them, too much pain that could not just be erased. But as her words settled over him, the anger he had clung to for so long shifted into something else, something darker and far more tempting.

“Genevieve,” he whispered, taking a step toward her, “do not?—”

But she did not move. She stood her ground, and as their gazes locked, the tension between them snapped like a cord pulled too tight.

Without thinking, without caring about the consequences, Alexander closed the distance between them in one swift movement. His hand moved instinctively, brushing against her arm, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingertips.

She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening as the touch seemed to spark something between them, a memory of what once was and what might have been. He could feel her tremble, could see the confusion, the anger, the desire all swirling in her expression.

He leaned closer, the scent of her hair filling his senses, intoxicating him in ways he had not felt in years. Their faces were so close now, the heat between them suffocating. His eyes flicked down to her lips. Those lips had haunted him for so long. He had dreamt of kissing those lips again, even when he knew he did not deserve it.

Her lips parted, and for a moment, it felt as though time had stopped. The fire crackled in the background, but it was nothing compared to the inferno raging between them. His breath mingled with hers, the pull between them undeniable.

He wanted to kiss her. God, he wanted to kiss her so badly. His body ached with the need to close the last few inches between them, to feel her against him, to forget all the pain, if only for a moment. Every muscle in his body screamed for it, for her.

But then, she pulled away.

Genevieve stepped back, breaking the spell, and Alexander’s heart plummeted, the rush of emotions crashing down like a wave. She pressed a hand to her chest, her breath ragged, her eyes wide with a mixture of panic and regret.

“No,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “We cannot.”

The room seemed to grow colder in an instant, the heat of the moment dissolving into an icy void. Alexander stood frozen, his chest heaving, his mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened.

He watched her retreat, the space between them widening once again. And with that space, all the unresolved feelings, the pain, and the regret came flooding back.

Genevieve shook her head as if trying to shake off what had almost happened, her voice hardening. “This changes nothing.”

Alexander swallowed, his throat tight. She was right, of course. It changed nothing. The past was still there, hanging over them like a dark cloud. And yet… for those few seconds, it had felt like everything was about to change. Like something between them had shifted.

But now it was gone.

She turned away from him, her back rigid, and Alexander let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair.

“We cannot,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not like this.”

Alexander nodded, though every part of him still ached to reach for her, to erase the distance again. “You are right,” he said, though the words felt like a lie. “We should not.”

She glanced back at him, her expression softening, but only slightly. “I need some space.”

He nodded, understanding more than she realized. “Take all the time you need.”

And with that, Genevieve walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, alone, his heart pounding and his mind reeling.

The fire in the hearth crackled once more, but the flames seemed dimmer now. Alexander stood there, staring at the door she had just walked through, his fists clenched at his sides, his chest heavy with the weight of everything they had not said.

He had almost kissed her.

But in that almost was everything they had not faced, and he knew now, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that whatever this was between them—it was not over. Not by a long shot.