He doesn’t say anything, but lifts his hand from my stomach and moves to the chair beside me.
I decide to get everything out while I can. “I’m guessing you’d be expecting sex while we are living together, whether that’s as we are now, or as man and wife. If you are, then I can tell you that you being with someone else while you’re with me would be a deal breaker. We wouldn’t recover from it. I don’t share.” I take a deep breath knowing he really isn’t going to like what I have to say next. “You also need to talk to someone. Me, one of your brothers, a therapist, because you can’t carry on thinking the way you do about your body. It isn’t healthy. I’m not like your ex. The only thing that bothers me about your scars is the fact that you were badly hurt, in pain and that you’re still suffering. I’ve told you repeatedly that I care too much about you to let them bother me, to let them affect our relationship, but you won’t listen or don’t trust me enough.”
I gaze long and hard into his eyes before his slide away to look at anything but me. I know he’s still listening, still weighing my words, so I keep going, “During the time we were together, I kept trying to touch you—to hold you—but you would always knock my hand away and end up fucking me from behind, as though you didn’t give a shit about me. I can’t do that again. If we are going to do this, then we are going to do it slow and we are going to have a healthy relationship. If you can agree to give me a chance without anyone or anything else getting in the middle, then I’ll agree to be engaged to you for now. As for marriage, we’ll see how it goes.”
Chapter Twelve
Lucien
Well, she’s certainly told me. Until I heard her words, I had no idea just how badly I’d hurt her. Towards the end of our time together, I’d acted the way I had to push her away from me because I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stay away from her otherwise, but look where that has gotten us.
She’s gotten under my skin and into my heart, which is the last place I intended for her to go. But what the hell am I supposed to do now?
Hell, my life was so much easier before Sabrina arrived back in Lexington. Ever since then, I’ve been on a rollercoaster ride.
She’s going to be the mother of my child, which means I have to give something. I was brought up to take responsibility for my actions, not to be ignorant about them.
But what the hell am I going to do with her? What am I going to say to her to make this right between us—to make it right so she feels comfortable being with me again because I have the feeling that, once I get her inside my apartment I’m not going to be able to let her leave. Considering I said I only ever wanted sex to be between us my feelings now make a liar out of me.
“Lucien?”
I drag my eyes from her stomach and meet her worried gaze.
She really doesn’t need my shit right now. She needs reassurance more than anything.
“I heard everything you said Sabrina, and I’m sorry I’ve hurt you. I wish I could say that it wasn’t my intention, but I’d be lying. I wanted to push you away so that you’d hate me enough to turn me away when I came after you again. I’m totally screwed up, and don’t know what the fuck I want anymore. I thought I knew. Then you arrived in town and ever since the first day I met you, what I want has been totally upside down. I can’t promise I won’t screw up again, but I can promise you that as long as we are living together, whether it’s as friends or man and wife that there will never be anyone else. In that you have my word.”
I take her hand, and let out a sigh of relief when she slides her fingers through mine. As she holds on tight, she caresses my thumb with hers.
“As for the touching,” I gulp, “I’ll try. For you, I’ll try. My back, hip and buttock are the worse parts and they aren’t pretty.” I can’t meet her eyes now that I’ve admitted that.
I feel a slight tug on my hand, and looking up, meet her gaze.
“I’m not oblivious. I know you were badly burnt, and I need you to believe that I have no intention of running because of that. I like you. In fact, while we’re being honest with each other, I’ll even go as far as saying that I more than like you. You make me feel good,” she blushes, “and when we were together at first I really felt like you were my friend. I’ve missed you.”
I’m guessing that was difficult for her to admit because I’m not sure I can get the words out to let her know that I missed her as well.
Clearing my throat, I change the subject slightly, “On the way to my apartment, we’ll stop by your place and you can lounge on your bed while you give me packing instructions. Also, do I need to let your mom or the doorman know your forwarding address?”