Viona's POV
The thud of my ass landing on his lap knocked the air straight out of my lungs. Cedar and sandalwood assaulted my nose again, sharpening my senses and heightening the danger—danger to my rational restraint.
"Rafael! What are you doing? We're in the living room." I glanced around warily, half-expecting my kids or the nannies to suddenly appear.
"I'm your husband."
That word—husband—froze me solid.
On paper, he had every right to show affection. But without even weighing right or wrong, I knew if I wanted to stand up, I could.
His grip on my waist wasn't strong enough to trap me. I should've just gotten up and walked away. He wouldn't force me if I said no. So why didn't I?
"Are you going to make this a habit? Pulling me closer every time you want to?"
"You hate it? Being close to you is like an amulet for me. I told you, I've been suffering all this time."
The piercing, needy look he gave me made my chest pound hard, scrambling my thoughts.
