The Billionaire's Intern - Part 3

“It has nothing to do with hardware. I’m sure you find that devastating.” He ignored the guilt that was already starting to gnaw at his gut.

“Not half as devastating as Steve will find it.”

“Do you still want to play with me, princess?” He already had a spot in hell reserved just for him. Right now he was sure the fires were being stoked hotter.

She blinked rapidly. “What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. You said you were stronger than I thought you were. Prove it to me.”

His words barely made a ripple on the calm surface that was Addison Treffen. And he found that irritating. “And why are you suddenly so eager to allow me to prove it? I thought you said you weren’t going to touch me.”

“Well, I realized something,” he said, pausing and running the tip of his fingers across the puncture wound left behind on his palm. “I already have. So why bother resisting? I didn’t want to touch you because I didn’t want to hurt you. Because I prize my control over everything else, and that means I haven’t touched any women since my return from the island. But I touched you. And it’s too late to take it back.”

She looked down, her focus very carefully not on him. “What exactly are you asking for? Because I feel like I’ve already made an idiot out of myself in front of you and I don’t really want to do it again.”

“Until you confess to killing someone with your bare hands, I think we can safely say I have more to lose than you do. If you decide to run out of the hotel screaming, it isn’t like I can easily chase you. And you have a direct line to the press. Just think of the damage you can do to me. Just think of all the heat it would take off the Treffen family. I’m the one with the most to lose here, Addison. And I’m still asking for this.”

“But you aren’t asking for it,” she said, her tone raw. “I feel you’re just going to make me say it again, and then you’re going to reject me.”

Heat burned in his stomach, flames licking down south, pooling in his groin. He leaned in, breathing in her scent, that fresh, rain-washed smell. She was too good for him. Too bright, too innocent no matter how strong she seemed to think she was.

But he was not a man of honor. He never had been.

Before the island, he’d been at best a harmless philanderer, at worst, irresponsible on a catastrophic scale. The kind of man who put others in harm’s way simply because he failed to think. And after the island? Well, some might say he was a murderer.

All things considered, the fact that he’d ever tried to resist her was almost laughable.

He reached out, cupping her chin with his hand. Her blue eyes went wide. Looking at her, the innocence there, was almost painful. Because he knew that just touching her was going to corrupt that.

It’s too late. You’ve already done it. You might as well go all the way.

“I don’t want to reject you, Addison. I want to keep you. I want to strip off all your clothes, push you against the wall. Bury myself in you. Wanting you like this, it’s like drowning.” He leaned in another fraction, his lips only a whisper from hers. “And I know what that feels like. To be trapped beneath the surface of the water, lungs burning. That’s what this has been like.” He allowed himself a moment to run the tip of his thumb over her cheek, before dropping his hands to his side again. “No good man could resist this. And I am not a good man. You deserve better.”

He moved away from her, knowing that if he didn’t put some distance between them he wouldn’t wait for her permission.

“Do I?” she asked, her voice unsteady. “My father was shot and killed in front of me. And he was an evil, horrible man. And…and I feel like I might be drowning too. Like I’m caught in the waves and I don’t know if I’m swimming deeper beneath the water or if I’m getting closer to the surface. I don’t know if I’m getting closer to salvation or death. I don’t know what I’m allowed to feel,” she said, tears glittering in her blue eyes. “How can I be sad that he’s dead, Logan? He was a bad person. And I knew it. I always knew it. But he was my father. And I’m…I’m so sad he was never the father I wished he was. I was never able to have the relationship with him that I wanted, and it’s because everything he was was a lie. I’ll never have that father. That fantasy is dead and over along with him. And I shouldn’t cry. Not for him. Not when he hurt Austin’s fiancée, my mother, countless women. I shouldn’t be sad. But I am and it doesn’t make any sense!”

Her shoulders shook and she took a deep breath, her expression so lost and desolate he felt it, deep inside him. She was adrift, and didn’t he know that feeling.

If he was another man, a better man, he would pull her into his arms and hold her. But he wasn’t another man, or a better one. He was just him. And it was probably better for her if he didn’t try to comfort her. He wasn’t qualified.

She was better off if he didn’t touch her.

Brilliant. Since it’s too late.

Yeah, well, fair point. Still, he stood rooted to the spot with his arms pinned at his sides. Because he’d forgotten this. This human connection thing.

Or maybe he’d never had it, and before he’d never noticed the absence because he’d never stopped to look at other people. He’d touch them, take what he wanted, and moved on. He was starting to wonder if he’d always been a monster. And it had simply been the island that brought it out. That had made him face it.

Maybe there had never been more in him. Maybe this was all he was.

He watched her shiver, shake apart from the inside out. Holding herself because he was too damn broken to go over and do it for her. Because it was best if she never thought she could count on that from him.

It would be best if she never counted on anything from him.

“If it helps,” he said, because standing there inactive really didn’t feel right at a certain point, “I don’t think there are actually rules on how we’re allowed to feel about things. I mean, maybe there are, but they’re bullshit.”

“What?” she asked, looking up, scrubbing her face.

“Feelings don’t make sense. They’re feelings. They aren’t supposed to be logical. And you know what? In the right conditions, or wrong conditions as the case may be, your brain isn’t even all that logical. I’ve been hungry enough, thirsty enough, tired enough where I would have believed anything, felt anything. Stress is a funny thing.”

“I just….am I even allowed to…”

“Who cares?” he asked. “I feel things that I can’t ever tell anyone because it makes so little sense…they’d lock me up. So I have to keep it under control. I have to keep me under control. Because…it all makes me seem crazy.”

“The panic? Or other things?” she asked.

He looked at her, all desperate, lost and corrupted. And he knew he owed her this. “The other things. Like the fact that sometimes I just wish I could go back. Back to the island. Away from this and people. And worrying about whether I’m okay or not.”

Addison took an unsteady breath. “That’s what I want. To go back. To when things were simple. Selfish. I know it is. But I can’t help it.”

“It’s not selfish. Or if it is, it’s no more selfish than what anyone else in your situation would want.”

“It’s terribly selfish. Because I’d rather be comfortable and ignorant than know the truth and deal with this. Because he hurt people and now that he’s dead he can’t hurt people and I’m still….wishing things could go back. It meant everything to Katy to have him stopped. Because it’s his fault her sister killed herself, and since Katy’s marrying Austin, she’s my sister and I just…Feeling this seems like a betrayal. Of her. Of so many people.”

“Because what happened betrayed you, Addison,” he said. “Because it changed your life. That’s why. Because he was your dad even if he was a prick.”

She laughed. “I know. And part of me…it’s like you have a picture of who your dad is. Of what a dad is. You get it when you’re really little. And Jason was never around much for me. But I would see him walking through the house in his suits. In a tux, ready to go out. And I thought he was…I admired him. I thought he looked perfect. I thought he was what everyone’s dad should look like. He wasn’t around much. He never paid a lot of attention to me. But I think part of me never gave up on the hope that he would. But…it’s too late. Now he’s dead. No redemption. No change. And I don’t have the father I hoped I could.” He let her words fade into silence, watched her take in shaking breath after shaking breath, until she lifted her head again. Her eyes met his, like fierce blue jewels glittering in the light. “Well, since I can’t have that, I suppose I’ll just have this.”