Still the Billionaire's First Choice - Chapter 9

The moment the bathroom door closed behind Felipe, Sophia leapt from the bed, pulled up the cover and scrambled back into her jeans and tee. She could play this cool. Not cling. Yes, it had been the most blissful, most amazing, experience of her life but she would be…calm. She wouldn’t allow her neediness to show. That she wanted more. Now.

Felipe emerged only a moment later, a towel slung around his waist. She had to consciously close her mouth and quickly turned and put the cafetiere on her single electric element. She desperately needed a coffee to steady her pulse.

Felipe took a seat at her table, clad in just that towel, and crossed his arms. The movement emphasised his muscles. Her mouth dried and she scrambled for focus. Apparently, he was parked there indefinitely. And she was too nervous to look into his eyes.

He waited till she’d made their coffees and sat opposite him. Just as she was about to sip, he spoke.

‘Did I hurt you?’

So he’d known. She set her coffee down before she spilt it.

‘Had you been saving yourself for marriage for all this time?’ he added.

‘Clearly not,’ she muttered. ‘It’s irrelevant, you know.’

‘Is it?’ He gulped in scalding coffee and exhaled curses beneath his breath.

She finally braved a glance at him. Was it bad to feel some satisfaction at his shattered expression?

She’d never wanted to save herself for marriage. She’d have slept with Felipe years ago but he’d been the one who’d stopped them.

‘I never was the whore you called me, Felipe.’

He winced. ‘I was young and hurt when I said that.’ He ran his hand through his hair and raised troubled eyes to her. ‘I’m sorry if what I said damaged you somehow…’

A ripple of old defensiveness ran through her. She didn’t want to give him that power—that his sharply uttered insult had inflicted irreparable harm. ‘You think your slut-shaming turned me into a nun for all these years?’

In truth, it wasn’t the argument they’d had, nor the barbs she’d known he’d hurled from hurt. It was him all over. Because he did have power—over her weak heart. Back then he’d owned that. But she’d not had the strength to admit it.

‘So it wasn’t anything to do with me.’ His gaze slid from her. ‘It was Ares.’

It had been the last week of the last summer she’d spent at the villa. Her feelings for Felipe had changed. Everything had changed. She’d told him about her future betrothal but not to whom because she’d not known. Only then there was that comment from her father and then Ares accepted one of her father’s incessant invitations to join them. That he was her intended groom was appalling. She’d never thought about Ares the way she did Felipe. Ares was cold while Felipe was heat and laughter and everything. But Felipe had held back from her earlier when she’d wanted him and she’d been confused, uncertain, utterly insecure.

She’d gone to Ares; she’d asked him to kiss her. She’d practically begged him.

‘I never intended for you to see me with him,’ she said to Felipe now.

‘I’m aware of that.’ Felipe’s expression sharpened.

It had been the ultimate humiliation to learn Felipe had witnessed that clumsy horror, and the ultimate devastation when he’d verbally eviscerated her for it later that night.

That was the last time they’d spoken until yesterday.

Sophia bit her lip. She didn’t want to be overly defensive now. He’d just given her the most exquisite experience of her life and she didn’t want to ruin its beauty by leaving important things unsaid. No misunderstandings anymore—she would admit and explain that mistake.

‘I only wanted to find out if I felt anything for him,’ she said quietly.

Felipe’s gaze shot to hers.

She licked her lips nervously. ‘I mean, whether it was anything like what I felt for you.’