What He Reveals(8)

“Wait, what?” I shook my head, confused. “Professor Worthington knows about Audi? But that doesn’t make any sense. You’ve only been talking to me.”

But even as I was saying the words, the truth was forming in my mind. Noah was only talking to me right now. He’d been talking to Worthington before, when this first started, when the police had been looking into him because of Dani, before Katie had even been killed. Of course Noah had given Professor Worthington more information than he’d given me.

Yes, Noah was refusing to talk to anyone except for me now, but it wasn’t because he trusted me, or because he wanted to get closer to me, or because he wanted to help my career. He was only talking to me because he knew I could be controlled, knew he’d be able to get away with talking about the case when and how he wanted. He’d wanted to control the flow of information, to pick and choose what information he gave and who he gave it to.

This had never had anything to do with me. It had always been about control.

“Charlotte,” he said, as the understanding dawned on my face. “It’s not like that.”

“It’s not like what?” I asked, my voice breaking.

“I wasn’t using you.”

I laughed. “Then what do you call it?”

“What do I call it?” He grabbed me by my wrists, pushed me so that my back was up against the door. His body pressed against mine, and my knees felt weak from his closeness, his smell, his presence. “You need me to spell this out for you, what this is? I wasn’t lying when I said I was falling in love with you,” he rasped. “I am falling in love with you.”

I let the words wash over me. His eyes were on mine, stormy and intense with emotion. The longing I felt, the hope that he meant what he said, was too much to take. I closed my eyes, feeling a tear slip out and leave a salty trail down my cheek.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

I took a breath and opened my eyes.

“You have meant more to me than any woman I’ve ever known. You are beautiful and sexy and smart and you don’t put up with my shit. You are everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”

Meant.

He was using past tense.

And that’s all I needed to know.

I pushed him away from me and walked back into the room, making sure to keep my back to him. I wasn’t going to turn around, wasn’t gong to look at him. If he was going to leave, he was going to have to do it without me looking at him.

The silence stretched between us, excruciating in its stillness, as I waited for him to break my heart.

“I’m not good for you,” he said. “I’m putting you in danger.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. I blinked quickly, trying to stop the tears that were slowly sliding down my cheeks from becoming an avalanche.

“You could have been hurt tonight, Charlotte. By Audi. By whoever killed Dani and Nora and Katie. My demons will overtake you, Charlotte. They’ll overtake you and they’ll ruin you.”

I bit my lip to keep from screaming at him, for calling him a bastard, a fraud, an asshole, and any other name that might hurt him. But just as fast as my anger burned, it flamed out.

Anger wouldn’t do anything. Calling him names wouldn’t help. Nothing could hurt him. He’d built his walls, and nothing could tear them down. He had no weakness.

Except for one.

I reached down and pulled his sweater off me, then tossed it on the floor.

“Charlotte,” he said, his voice laced with warning. “What are you doing?”

“Please,” I said, pulling the straps of my dress down, over my breasts, over my hips, slipping the fabric over my thighs and stepping out of it until I was left in just my thong and stilettos. “Take me.”

I got to my knees and crawled over to him, making sure to keep my ass high in the air like I knew he liked. When I reached him, I looked up at him and placed my hands behind my back. “I’ll do whatever you want, Noah. Do whatever you want to me. Just, please… don’t leave.”

His eyes blazed as he reached down and ran his thumb over my lips. He slipped his finger into my mouth and I sucked on it hungrily. Lust and want overtook his face as he slid his finger out of my mouth and ran it down over my neck, trailing it over my collarbone.

I tilted my head back, thrusting my breasts out for him.

“Please,” I begged. “Please, I’ll do anything.”

“Charlotte,” he said. But it wasn’t the way I wanted him to say my name. It wasn’t domineering. It wasn’t demanding. It wasn’t the voice of a man who knew what he wanted as was going to get it.

It was the voice of a man who’d made his decision and was sticking to it.