Page 51 of Untamed Billionaire's Innocent Bride
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“YOUCAN’THAVEME,” Dominik growled at her, because that was what he’d decided. It was what made sense. “I never was a toy for you to pick up and put down at will, Lauren. I assumed that was finally clear.”
And yet all he wanted to do was get his hands on her.
He knew he couldn’t allow that. Even if he was having trouble remembering the why of that at the moment, now that she was here. Right here, in front of him, where he’d imagined her no less than a thousand times a night since he’d left England.
But he didn’t. Because touching her—losing himself in all that pink and gold sweetness of hers—was where all of this had gone wrong from the start.
“I introduced you to sex, that’s all,” he said through gritted teeth, because he didn’t want to think about that introduction. The way she’d yielded completely, innocent and eager and so hot he could still feel it. As if he carried her inside him. “This is the way of things. You think it means more than it does. But I don’t.”
“I tested that theory,” she told him, and it landed on him like a punch, directly into his gut. “You told me I could walk into any pub in England and have whatever sex I wanted.”
“Lauren.” And he was surprised he didn’t snap a few teeth off, his jaw was so tight. “I would strongly advise you not to stand here in my cabin and brag to me about your sexual exploits.”
“Why would you care? If you don’t want me?” She smiled at him again, self-possessed and entirely too calm. “But no need to issue warnings or threats. I walked in, took a look around and left. I don’t want sexual exploits, Dominik. I told you. I want you.”
“No,” he growled, despite the way that ache in his chest intensified. “You don’t.”
“I assure you, I know my own mind.”
“Perhaps, but you don’t know me.”
And he didn’t wait for her to take that on board. He surged to his feet, prowling toward her, because she had to understand. She had to understand, and she had to leave, and he had to get on with spending the rest of his life trying to fit the pieces back together.
After she’d torn him up, crumpled him and left him in this mess in the first place.
Because you let her,the voice in him he’d tried to ignore since he’d met her—and certainly since he’d left her—chimed in.
“I thought at first it was the media attention that got to you, but you obviously don’t mind that. You’ve had it before. Why should this be any different?”
And she didn’t remind him of his lies of omission. They rose there between them like so much heat and smoke, and still, the only thing he could see was her.
“I don’t care about attention.” He wanted things he couldn’t have. He wanted to do something, but when he reached out his hand, all he did was fit it to her soft, warm cheek.
Just to remind himself.
And then he dropped his hand to his side, but that didn’t make it better, because she felt even better than he remembered.
“Dominik. I know that you feel—”
“You don’t know what I feel.” His voice was harsh, but his palm was on fire. As if touching her had branded him, and he was disfigured with it. And maybe it was the fact she couldn’t seem to see it that spurred him on. “You don’t have great parents, so you think you know, but you don’t. There’s no doubt that it’s your parents who are the problem, not you. You must know this.”
“They are limited people,” she said, looking taken aback. But she rallied. “I can’t deny that I still find it hurtful, but I’m not a little girl anymore. And to be honest, I think they’re the ones who are missing out.”
“That sounds very adult. Very mature. I commend you. But I’m not you. This is what I’m trying to tell you.” And then he said the thing he had always known, since he was a tiny child. The thing he’d never said out loud before. The thing he had never imagined he even needed to put into words, it was so obvious. “There’s something wrong with me, Lauren.”
Her eyes grew bright. And he saw her hands curl into fists at her sides.
“Oh, Dominik.” And he would remember the way she said his name. Long after she was gone, he would replay it again and again, something to warm him when the weather turned cold. It lodged inside him, hot and shining where his heart should have been. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Nothing.”
“This is not opinion. This is fact.” He shook his head, harshly, when she made to reach for him. “I was six days old when I arrived in the orphanage. And brand-new babies never stay long in orphanages, because there are always those who want them. A clean slate. A new start. A child they can pretend they birthed themselves, if they want. But no one wanted me. Ever.”
She was still shaking her head, so fiercely it threatened the hair she’d put in that damned ponytail as if it was her mission to poke at him.
“Maybe the nuns are the ones who wanted you, Dominik. Did you ever think of that? Maybe they couldn’t bear to give you up.”
He laughed at that, though it was a hollow sound, and not only because her words had dislodged old memories he hadn’t looked at in years. The smiling face of the nun they’d called Sister Maria Ana, who had treated him kindly when he was little, until cancer stole her away when he was five. How had he forgotten that?