Page 150 of Secluded with the Rogue

Chapter 13

A lexander’s chest heaved as Genevieve pushed him, his lips tingling, his body still on fire from the heat of Genevieve’s touch. His heart pounded as he pulled her close again. When she did not resist, he leaned his forehead against hers, the scent of lavender filling his senses. For a moment, he thought she might kiss him again.

But then she pulled back.

The loss of her warmth was immediate, and it sent a wave of panic through him. His hand hovered in the air where she had just been, fingers curling into a fist as she stepped away, her breath ragged, her eyes wide with confusion.

“Genevieve,” he whispered, desperate to close the space between them, to pull her back into his arms. But something in her expression stopped him cold. Her lips, swollen from their kiss, parted slightly, but the look in her eyes… She was clearly struggling, and the sight —sent a pang of dread through him.

“I cannot…” she murmured, shaking her head, her voice laced with confusion. “I should not have… we should not have.”

He reached for her, but she stepped farther away, and the distance between them felt like a chasm. The warmth of her body was replaced by the cold, biting reality of what had just happened, and his chest tightened with the weight of it all.

“Genevieve, please,” he said, his voice rough, laden with emotion. “I know this is… complicated, but we cannot pretend this does not matter. What we just felt, what we just did, it was not just a mistake. It is real.”

She looked at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Her hand came up to touch her lips as if she still felt the press of his kiss, but the confusion and the pain on her face only deepened. “I do not know what it is, Alexander. I do not know what I am supposed to feel.”

He swallowed, the weight of her words hitting him hard. He had known this would be difficult, that their past was far from forgotten. But seeing her so torn between her anger and the undeniable pull between them nearly broke him.

“I need to explain,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “About what happened five years ago. Why I left.”

She froze, her eyes narrowing at the mention of it, the atmosphere between them shifting instantly. The warmth from moments ago vanished as a cold wave of tension filled the air. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and he could see the walls going back up—the anger she had buried rushing to the surface again.

“No,” she said firmly, her voice trembling. “I do not want to hear it.”

Alexander’s heart sank. “Genevieve, please. I know you are angry. I know I hurt you, but you deserve to know the truth. I owe you that.”

She shook her head, taking another step back. “I cannot… not now. I cannot hear it.”

The desperation in her voice tore at him, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out, to pull her close and make her understand. He had been a coward five years ago. He had walked away, thinking he was protecting her, but in reality, he had only caused more damage. He had made her believe she was not worth fighting for. And he hated himself for it.

“You need to hear it,” he insisted, his voice pleading. “I need you to understand why I?—”

“No,” she snapped, her voice sharp as she cut him off. Her eyes were blazing now, filled with a mixture of anger and pain. “You do not get to explain it away, Alexander. Not after all this time.”

He flinched at her words, guilt tightening its grip on his chest. She was right, of course. He did not deserve to explain it away, not after the pain he had caused her. But still, he needed her to know.

“I am not trying to justify what I did,” he said softly, taking a cautious step forward. “I am just asking you to let me tell you the truth. You deserve that much.”

Genevieve crossed her arms over her chest, her body stiff. It appeared as if she were trying to hold herself together. “And what good would that do, Alexander? Knowing the truth now does not erase what happened. It does not change the fact that you left me without a word. You abandoned me.”

Her words cut through him like a knife, and the guilt he had carried for years threatened to suffocate him. “I know,” he whispered, his voice raw with regret. “And I hate myself for it every day.”

For a long moment, they stood there in silence, the air between them thick with unresolved emotions. Alexander’s heart pounded in his chest, his pulse quickening with the weight of everything he had not said, everything he wanted to say. But the look in her eyes, the pain mixed with desire—told him she was not ready.

She was not ready to forgive him.

Genevieve turned away, her voice quieter now, filled with uncertainty. “I cannot do this right now, Alexander. I cannot go back to that place.”

He took a step toward her, his heart aching as he watched her struggle with the emotions that were clearly tearing her apart. “I do not want to hurt you again, Genevieve. That is the last thing I want.”

Her shoulders tensed, but she did not turn to face him. “Then don’t,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He stood there, torn between his desire to make things right and the knowledge that he might never be able to. His breath was heavy, his chest tight with regret. He had come so close to having her again, to breaking through the barriers between them, but he had pushed too hard, too fast.

She needed time. Time to process the years of hurt, the anger, the longing.

“Genevieve…” he started, but the words died on his lips. He did not know what else to say. He did not know how to fix this.

With a deep breath, she finally turned to face him again, her eyes softening but her walls still firmly in place. “Not now, Alexander. Please.”

It felt like a punch to the gut, but he nodded, stepping back. “I understand.”

She gave him one last look, filled with sadness and something else—something unspoken—before she turned and walked away, leaving him standing alone in the alcove, his heart heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.

As she disappeared down the hallway, Alexander let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. The tension between them, the pull, was still there. But he had pushed too far tonight, and now he was left with the bitter taste of regret, knowing that while the flames of their passion had ignited again, the wounds of the past had yet to heal.

He stood there in the quiet, watching the place where she had been, the memory of her kiss still burning on his lips, and he wondered if she would ever be ready to hear the truth.