I Want To Kiss You

"It's exquisite. And it was made for you," Alexander whispered.

His tone was even, lacking any theatrical flair, yet it was saturated with a raw, undeniable honesty.

A wave of heat traveled up Evelyn's neck, flooding her cheeks.

Alexander believed the necklace suited her.

Did that imply, in his view, that she outshone the precious stones themselves?

The idea electrocuted her, tensing her muscles and making her spine straighten imperceptibly.

Alexander's dark, inscrutable eyes lifted to meet hers once more.

The moment he detected the delicate blush painting her cheekbones and the rims of her eyes, his throat constricted.

A banked fire ignited in his gaze, something primal and immovable.

Abruptly, he released her arm. His fingers moved to cradle her chin, his hold secure yet gentle. His attention dropped, fixating on her slightly parted, soft lips.

Evelyn's breath caught nervously. Her hands flew to his shirt, clutching the fabric in tight fists.

His intense, unshielded look made her heart pound, stealing the oxygen from the room. But after yesterday—after her near-mistake in the car—she fought for composure, refusing to let fantasy take over.

"Is… something the matter? Is my hair out of place again?" she ventured, forcing bravery into her voice.

His lips parted. His voice dropped to a husky, low timbre. "No. It's not that." He spoke slowly, deliberately. "I just find you incredibly beautiful." A pause hung between them, thick and heavy. "And right now… I want to kiss you."

His breath feathered against her skin, a ghost of a touch.

Evelyn's eyes flew wide, her lungs seizing. Had she heard him correctly?

But one look into his serious, burning eyes confirmed he was not teasing.

Her throat closed. She swallowed hard, her pulse a deafening drum in her ears. This was happening—swiftly, unexpectedly.

Yet, curiously, no hesitation or resistance bloomed inside her.

A quiet, thrilling anticipation uncoiled in the depths of her mind.

They were married, after all. Wasn't this expected? Why would she refuse him?

Her fingers trembled slightly as she slowly let her eyelids fall shut, a silent, willing surrender.

Alexander's already ragged breathing hitched at her submission.

His grip on her chin tightened a fraction, his thumb stroking the delicate skin of her jaw. The inadvertent caress sent a faint, unfamiliar shiver skittering down her spine.

His dark eyes deepened, clouded with something heavy and wanting.

He leaned in, closing the scant distance between them. Their warm, uneven breaths mingled, the air crackling with palpable heat.

Their lips were a mere whisper apart—when a sharp, insistent knock ruptured the moment.

Evelyn, already holding her breath, jumped violently. Her heart slammed against her ribs. Startled, she scrambled to her feet—too quickly, too clumsily.

In her frantic movement, her lips accidentally smashed against Alexander's chin.

A sharp pain shot through her mouth. A soft cry escaped as her fingers flew to her stinging lips.

Tears pricked her eyes as she covered her mouth, putting immediate space between them. She looked up at him, her expression a mix of pain and accusation, utterly pitiful.

Alexander's face darkened instantly.

Who dared to interrupt at this precise moment?

Seeing Evelyn's instinctive retreat fueled his irritation into pure fury. His voice dropped to an icy, dangerous clip. "Who is it?"