Page 160 of Perfect Liar

He pulled my face up to his and kissed me. A soft kiss, one meant for reassurance, but it quickly bloomed with desire. He pushed his growing erection against my stomach, and then broke the kiss, leaving me breathless. One corner of his mouth twitched before a striking grin lit up his face.

“I have something to show you,” he said.

I wiggled against him.

“I’ve seen that before, you know.”

His throat rumbled, and he kissed me again.

My body absorbed his touch and soaked in his taste, his scent, even the sound of his voice. It all produced a high that made me so desperate for more of him…like some damn junkie.

“Come with me,” he said.

He led me through the great hall and up the staircase. When we got to his bedroom, he pulled me past the door, but I tugged on his arm.

“Will, just take me to your room.”

He grinned and swept me up into his arms. As I was about to complain, he shut my mouth with a kiss. At the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door I’d never noticed and stepped into a main suite I had no idea existed.

“Welcome home, baby.”

“What?”

“Our separate rooms are too small. We need more space to be together.”

“But Will?—”

He put me down, narrowing his eyes while staring into mine.

“—Elle, you’ll give me this,” he commanded.

I shook my head as if it would clear my stupid thoughts. God, why would I even hesitate? We already lived together. He’d already made me promise to marry him.

It caught me by surprise, I supposed, because when we ran to the UK, I told myself it was for Lissie’s sake and to bide time, to find information and get vengeance.

But the truth now slapped me in the face as I looked into his eyes. I’d fallen in love with him before coming to England, and I came because I wanted to be with him.

As clichéd as it might have been, he’d had me at hello. His gravelly, accented “hello” on the pier had unsettled the silence in my soul and changed me.

I studied his eyes. So beautiful. No fire, only love. And then determination—his ginormous ego would fight me on this until he won.

Overwhelmed by a surge of emotion, I swallowed hard.

I’d gone over it in my head more than once. My feelings for him were insane, irrevocable, and I never wanted to be without him.

Those thoughts made me smile, and I dragged my fingertips over his scruffy jawline.

“You’re right, this makes sense for us. I want to be in this room with you.”

Will smiled, taking my hand, kissing my fingers, and then he led me through the suite.

First up was a small living room with a plush sectional and a round wooden table. Built in shelving surrounded the original fireplace. A wet bar in one corner had cabinets with etched glass doors displaying shiny crystal barware. Bottles of Will’s favorite whisky and a big ass espresso machine sat on top of the marble countertop.

From there he took me into our bedroom, where the flowing, blue velvet draperies framed a view of the English Channel.

I might even see the lights in France on a clear night.

Will’s masculine desk had been moved in, and there was a king size bed covered with luxurious layers of white and blue bedding.