CHAPTER 6: THE NIGHT WE BROKE THE RULES
1105 Words
Georgia avoided Liam for three days.
It wasn't hard.
He made it easy, leaving the mansion before dawn and returning after midnight.
When he comes home, she would hear his footsteps in the hallway or the soft sound of his study door closing. But he never came to her room. Never knocked. Never asked if she was okay.
They were married in name only, just as he had promised.
She spent her days wandering the mansion like a ghost, silently eating meals and staring out windows too big for one person. Sometimes she wondered if Liam even remembered she was there.
But on the fourth night, the fragile arrangement cracked.
She couldn't sleep again. Her thoughts were a storm. Regrets twisted in her chest like vines, tight, painful, endless. She tossed and turned in the massive bed. No matter how many pillows she clutched or how tightly she pulled the blanket around her, it didn't bring peace.
Finally, she gave up.
She slipped out of bed, wrapped herself in a soft robe, and walked barefoot down the quiet halls, her steps silent on the marble floors. The mansion felt like a museum at night, dark, cold, and too perfect. She had hoped the library would distract her, maybe calm her enough to rest.
But as she neared the hallway, she noticed something strange.
The door to Liam's study was open.
She should have kept walking. She should have ignored it. But something, curiosity, loneliness, maybe even a need she didn't want to name, pulled her toward the room.
He was sitting behind his large desk, the only glow was coming from his laptop screen. His suit jacket was off, tossed across the chair. His white shirt sleeves were rolled up, and his tie was undone. His hair was messy, his posture tired.
For once, he didn't look like the powerful, cold man who had dragged her into a contract marriage.
He looked human.
Tired. Worn out. Real.
She almost stepped back. But the movement must have caught his attention. His eyes lifted and met hers. Sharp. Dark. Alert, even in exhaustion.
"You're still awake," he said quietly.
"I couldn't sleep," she admitted, her voice soft.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy with something she didn't have a name for.
Then she took a step inside. Her feet felt rooted to the floor, but something inside her pushed her forward.
"Is this what you do every night?" she asked. "Work until you can't think anymore?"
His jaw tightened slightly. "It's necessary."
"Is it?" she said, lowering herself into the chair opposite him. She folded her hands in her lap and stared at the desk. "Or is it just easier than feeling anything at all?"
His gaze darkened. "Be careful, Georgia."
She lifted her chin and met his eyes. "Or what? You'll remind me that this marriage is a contract?"
He stood so fast that the chair behind him scraped loudly against the floor. Her heart jumped, but she didn't flinch. She refused to look away.
Liam walked around the desk and stopped in front of her. His shadow fell across her, his expression unreadable.
For a second, she thought he might leave the room. Go back to being cold and distant.
But instead, he reached out and cupped her face in his hand.
Georgia froze.
His palm was warm against her cheek. His thumb brushed the soft skin just beneath her eye. His touch was gentle, careful. For one unguarded second, she saw something in his eyes, something raw. Something vulnerable.
"I told you this wasn't real," he said quietly.
"Then why are you touching me?" she whispered.
Neither of them moved.
His hand stayed against her cheek, and she leaned into it without meaning to. She felt the warmth of him, the steady beat of tension in the space between their bodies.
He was so close now. She could see the faint shadows beneath his eyes. The small lines near his temples.
He looked like he hadn't slept in days. The shadows of a thousand sleepless nights.
"Because I'm not made of stone," he murmured.
And then, before she could answer, he kissed her.
It wasn't soft. It wasn't slow. It was desperate. Hungry.
His lips claimed hers with a fire that caught her off guard. His arms wrapped around her as though he needed her. As though he'd been holding everything inside for too long and couldn't do it anymore.
Georgia's hands pressed against his chest, but not to push him away.
She pulled him closer.
His mouth moved over hers like he was trying to forget something. Like he wanted to remember something else. Her breath caught as she returned the kiss, her fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt.
There was no contract in that moment.
No arrangement. No cold words or cruel threats.
Just heat. Just need. Just two broken people who didn't want to feel alone.
He lifted her easily, carrying her to the couch near the window. He laid her down carefully, as if she were something precious. Something fragile.
He leaned over her, his lips trailing kisses down her jaw, his hands skimming over her arms like he wanted to memorize her.
She felt herself unraveling beneath him.
Her robe slipped open, and his hands slowed, hovering at her waist.
"Georgia," he whispered, his voice strained. "Tell me to stop."
She looked up at him, her chest rising and falling fast. Her eyes met his.
"I don't want you to stop," she said.
He hesitated. Just for a moment. Then he kissed her again, deeper this time. Slower. Like he wanted to make her feel every second of it.
And she did.
When they finally broke apart, Liam's forehead rested against hers. His breathing was ragged.
He didn't speak. Neither did she.
For a while, it was enough just to be there.
Then he finally spoke, "This changes nothing." he said hoarsely.
She swallowed hard. " You kept telling yourself that."
He didn't answer.
And in that quiet, dangerous moment, Georgia knew the truth.
They had broken the rules.
And once the rules were broken, nothing could ever be the same again.
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