Belle’s breath came in ragged gasps, shallow and uneven—like each inhale scraped her lungs raw. Her fingers, once clenched in desperation against him, began to loosen. Her body, which had sought him like a lifeline, now recoiled. Slowly, hesitantly, she peeled away as if awakening from a trance—a trance laced with terror, confusion, and something dangerously close to comfort.
Clarity hit her like a slap.
Her heart, still hammering, felt foreign in her chest as her awareness sharpened.
She was in his arms.
His.
Ashton’s.
The man who had taken everything from her.
And the very thought made her stomach lurch.
Her hands pressed against his chest, not trembling, not unsure—but with resolve. With rejection. Her fingers splayed against the warmth of his skin, and this time, she didn’t cli
