The Grand Pact (The Grand Men #1)(120)

“What are you sorry for, princess?” he murmurs, his voice gruff and sounding sleepy.

“I don’t know, exactly.” I shrug as my fingers run through his hair. “There’s lot of things, and I wish I could explain them all to you. And maybe that’s the problem. I don’t know. I’m never truly sure.”

Elliot doesn’t say anything, and I can’t seem to stop.

“You probably deserve someone better than that. Someone who can stand up and make clear exactly what they want.”

He lifts his head and studies me, a frown pulling his brows together. “I’ve not always seen you. Not really. Not the man you really are. You never deserved my doubt, and maybe that’s what I’m sorry for.” I look back out through the bifold doors, eyeing the horizon so I can escape his intense gaze. “But I do love you, Ell. It’s not enough, but it’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

“Stop.” He kisses my stomach, his lips lingering on my soft skin as he speaks. “I’m not like you. I didn’t fall for a dream or a what-if. I fell for you day one, and I’ll fall for you through every moment of finding who you want to be. I told you,” the words muffle as he leans down to kiss my side. “I don’t want you to change who you are. You can doubt me all you want because I’m not going anywhere.”

I grin down at him, my throat tight. “That was entirely too sweet for your filthy mouth, Elliot Montgomery.”

Something sparks in his eyes. “Fuck,” he says, smirking.

He rises on his knees, grasps my hips and pulls me down the bed. He pinches my nipple, and I can’t help but chuckle as I attempt to roll away. “How about we dirty it up a bit?”

My laugh fills the room, and I hastily shoot forward, grabbing his neck and kissing him in a rush. He pulls me up to my knees, matching his position on the bed. Our smiles seem to slip away a second after our lips touch, and then his hands drift over my body in our silence, one wraps around my waist, and the other moves up my spine to hold me at the nape, moulding me to him.

Our kiss is gentle, slow, and unlike anything we’ve shared before. I swear he can sense it too. The way his arms are fixed so fiercely on my body, and the way his heart thumps, so in rhythm with my own.

He pulls back an inch, our lips barely part. “Outta your head, baby. You’re mine now.” His mouth drifts over mine, then higher, where he places a lingering kiss on my forehead. “It’s not even up to us. It’s never been up to us.”





33





Lucy





We take our time walking back to the lodge. The idea we had to leave at all seemed unfair, but as we do make our way back across the cliff tops, I feel reality lurking in my every shadow. I have things to put right, and I know I can’t put it off any longer.

Elliot called Mason late last night to let him know we were staying at the house, and I can’t help but wonder what they will all be thinking.

I came to this island with another man, and yet I’ve spent more time with Elliot—been intimate with him, which will be obvious to them all. It doesn’t feel wrong, and I don’t carry the regret I probably should, but it is wrong.

“I’m going home early. When we get back, I’m going to book a flight. I need to go to New York and put everything right.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I have to, Elliot.”

He pulls on my arm, our linked hands twisting and moving to my back. We come to a stop, and he looks down his nose at me, challenging me. “You’re not going anywhere. I’ve just got you back. Enjoy the next couple of days with me, and we’ll fix everything else when we get home.”

“I can’t do what I need to do with Max over the phone. He lives in Ralph’s house. I need to explain everything. Then we can move forward.”

“Come on, Luce, I watched him shove his tongue down someone else’s throat—you watched him. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he deserves an explanation. You’re not leaving me.” He walks off down the coastal path, his tux jacket thrown over his shoulder.

I carry on forward, not rushing to catch up. “It doesn’t make it any less wrong,” I call out.

He shakes his head, slowing his steps.

“It’s not just about Maxwell,” I tell him as I fall into step beside him. “He does deserve the truth, but this is about you, too. And me. I won’t have us trapped in this situation any longer. It’s not fair to anyone, and I don’t want anything between us.”

I squint up at him when a minute passes, and he doesn’t say anything. I find him grinning down at me with that panty-melting smile.

“What?” I ask, wondering how his mood can flip so easily.

“Nothing.”

“I’m going home,” I tell him, resolute.

“So that you can be my girlfriend?”

I roll my lips in an attempt to control my face. Still, my stomach flips and my face burns.

“What if I don’t ask you, princess?” he teases. “What if I don’t want a girlfriend who lives thousands of miles away?”

“What if you moved to New York?” I swallow and look up at him.

His face drops, and he steps back. I catch the faintest smile that traces the corner of his mouth like he can’t control his gut reaction to my question.