Chapter 174

Serena's POV

His hands stilled for a fraction of a second before resuming their work. "Are we?"

I didn't answer, trying to ignore the gentle pressure of his fingers against my skin. Each touch felt like a betrayal - of Rachel, of my own resolve, of the careful distance I'd maintained.

"This will bruise badly," he said finally, his clinical tone at odds with the intimacy of the moment. "You should have mentioned it earlier."

"It wasn't relevant." I watched as he applied the medication with methodical care, his face serious in the mirror's reflection. "You had more important concerns."

"Rachel being injured doesn't make yours irrelevant." He caught my attempt to pull away and held me still with a firm hand on my waist. "Stay still. I'm almost done."

The warmth of his palm through the thin silk sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine. I forced myself to remain motionless, counting the seconds until this torturous intimacy would end.

Lucas's POV

I gently applied the ointment, my fingers carefully avoiding pressure on the bruises marking her waist. The silence in the room was thick with tension, broken only by Serena's controlled breathing. I could feel her discomfort, the way her muscles tensed under my touch.

Her skin was warm beneath my fingertips, the elegant curve of her waist a dangerous temptation. The bruises stood out like violent watercolors against her pale skin. Something primitive and protective stirred in my chest at the sight.

Before I could stop myself, I leaned down and pressed my lips against her skin, carefully avoiding the injured areas. The kiss was feather-light, almost reverent.

Serena spun around instantly, backing against the mirror. Her eyes blazed with fury, turning that deep shade of brown that always signaled danger. "What are you doing?" she demanded. "Weren't you the one who claimed to have no interest in my body?"

"I couldn't help myself," I admitted quietly, watching the emotions play across her face.

"You're a married man!" The accusation in her voice cut through the air like a blade.

"No." I enunciated each word carefully, maintaining eye contact. "Not yet."

Her laugh was bitter, tinged with something that sounded like hurt. "So in Mr. Harrington's mind, as long as there's no marriage certificate, anything goes? Only legal contracts can restrain you?"

I stood there, speechless. She wasn't wrong - I had overstepped. My self-control, usually iron-clad, always seemed to crumble around her. Every glance, every accidental touch, drove me closer to the edge of my restraint.

"It's late. Please leave." Her voice had turned to ice.

I walked to the door, pausing at the threshold. "Eleanor will come tomorrow morning to help with the medication."

"I know," she replied flatly.

"Good night," I started to say, but the door closed in my face, nearly catching my nose. I deserved that.

Every time I saw her, I wanted to stay longer, to be closer. The need to protect her warred with my desire to possess her completely.

Standing in the hallway, I made a silent vow. Six months. I would give myself six months to clear up every misunderstanding, to remove every obstacle between us. I couldn't let her continue believing I belonged to another woman.

Six months. The countdown started now.