ISABELLE
“Tomorrow?” I stared at him, my heart picking up pace.
The silence between us held. His expression didn’t waver — and that, more than anything, told me he meant every word.
“For someone about to make a significant decision, don’t you think tomorrow is too soon?” I searched his face. “And here I thought you valued your privacy above everything.”
“Giving you too much time is dangerous.”
“Dangerous,” I repeated. “Or respectful?”
“I don’t want you to change your mind. Too much space has a way of doing that.”
Something warm moved through my chest at the thought of him not wanting me to leave. But was this not too much — all of it — for a man who didn’t do love and wanted nothing beyond the fulfilment of desire?
“Tomorrow is too soon,” I said.
“You’d rather stay at Sage’s?” His
