Chapter 9
Sienna‘s pov
“Mrs. Blackwood, don’t act like you’ve been terribly wronged.” Harrison Blackwood looked at me like I was a stranger.
“It’s your fault for not taking care of Adrian.”
The words hit harder than a slap.
I just stared, my chest tightening as if needles were driving into my heart.
Elena Whitmore held Adrian, a smug smile tugging at her mouth.
Harrison went to them and soothed Adrian in a voice I’d never heard him use on me, and the three of them looked—effortlessly—like a family.
I couldn’t take it, so I turned and fled the ward.
My head swam, and all I wanted was to get away from this place.
But the moment the elevator doors slid apart, I walked straight into someone’s arms.
I steadied myself against his chest. “Julian Vane.”
“Mrs. Blackwood.” He released me at once, polite and measured, his gaze flicking to my forehead. “That looks serious. You need it bandaged.”
“I’m fine.”
“Even voice actresses have to protect their faces.” His tone stayed calm. “Come on. I’ll take you.”
“I don’t want to trouble you.”
“I’m visiting a relative anyway. It’s on the way.”
Refusing again would only make me look ungrateful, so I nodded and followed him to the clinic.
The doctor cleaned the cut and wrapped it quickly.
Julian spoke first. “Will it scar?”
The doctor smiled at him. “Your girlfriend will be fine. The wound is shallow. Keep it dry and watch for infection.”
My pulse jumped.
“Doctor, you misunderstood. We’re not—”
“Sienna,” Julian cut in smoothly, already turning. “Let’s go pick up your medication.”
I swallowed the rest and followed, heat rising in my face.
Outside, I forced myself to speak. “Julian, thank you. But next time, let’s keep some distance. I’d rather avoid misunderstandings.”
He lifted a brow. “Does it bother you?”
“I…” The rest stuck in my throat.
Then strong hands seized me from behind and yanked me into a hard, possessive embrace.
I looked up and met Harrison’s eyes.
He still wore the cologne I’d picked out for him.
“Julian,” Harrison said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “you’ve got a lot of free time. You get back to the country and immediately ‘run into’ my wife at the hospital.”
Julian smiled, unbothered. “Mr. Blackwood, you seem to know my schedule very well. Likewise.”
“Business is business.” Harrison’s arm cinched tighter around my waist. “Don’t drag unrelated people into it.”
He stressed unrelated like a warning.
I tried to pull away, but he held me fast.
Julian’s gaze slid to me, cool and unreadable. “We just happened to cross paths. Why are you so tense, Mr. Blackwood?”
He gave me one lingering look, then softened his tone. “Mrs. Blackwood. See you around.”
He stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed.
I turned toward Harrison.
His mouth was a hard line, his eyes dark with irritation.
He caught me staring. “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing.” I struggled again. “Harrison, let go of me.”
He didn’t.
Before I could say more, he scooped me up and carried me out of the hospital.
Afraid of slipping, I hooked my arms around his neck.
“Harrison, what are you doing?” I bit out. “Aren’t you afraid Elena will be upset? Leaving her alone in the hospital—she’ll cry.”
He ignored me, carried me into the underground parking lot, and shoved me into the passenger seat.
The door slammed.
He leaned over me, boxing me in.
“Sienna,” he said, flat with command, “you are not to speak to Julian again.”
The tone lit a hot, ugly anger in my chest—the same tone he used whenever Elena needed protecting.
“Why?” I snapped. “You said we wouldn’t interfere with each other. We’re bed partners with legal rights. You don’t get to tell me who I can talk to.”
His eyes narrowed. He lifted my chin, almost gentle. “Sienna, you are not to see him.”
“Because you said so?” I laughed, bitter. “You have Elena and your illegitimate son, Adrian. Is it too much for me to look at another handsome man? You can’t—”
He cut me off with a kiss.
Forceful. Claiming.
My mind went blank.
Five years had taught my body his language even when my heart wanted to forget it.
My arms slid around his neck, answering him, and I hated myself for it.
His hand dragged down my waist, slow and suggestive, and I could feel how aroused he already was.
I bit his Adam’s apple on purpose, a sharp warning, and twisted his tie around my finger.
“Harrison,” I murmured, “there are cameras everywhere down here.”
He yanked off the tie and stared at me, his gaze heavy.
Then he straightened and started the car.
Ten minutes later, he shoved me through the front door.
He lifted me onto the shoe cabinet in the entryway and kissed me like he was starving.
And I kissed him back like I was, too.
I tore at his clothes, fingers sliding over his abdomen, pulling him closer, letting the heat drown out everything else.
When he finally pushes all the way into me, slow and absolute, we both go still at exactly the same moment, and the sound that leaves us is identical—low, involuntary, the sound of something slotting into place.
Like coming home.
I hate that it feels that way.
From the living room to the bedroom, it was relentless.
By the time the clock blurred toward three in the morning, I was slick with sweat, limp in his arms while he leaned against the headboard and caught his breath.
Ever since that false pregnancy scandal, the only time I could almost pretend we belonged to each other was when we did this.
I lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and my fingers drifted upward again.
He caught my hand. “Behave.”
His voice was still thick with desire, low enough to make my nerves buzz.
Shame flickered through me, sharp and brief, but I swallowed it.
I tipped my chin up. “You seem unsatisfied, Harrison. Did Elena not satisfy you?”
He stared down at me for a long beat.
Then he pressed my head back against his chest, firm and final.
“Sienna,” he said, “don’t talk.”