ROBERT'S POV
I wasn't oblivious to what Isla was doing. It was clear, she was into me. I had known for years that she'd always had a certain fondness for me, even back when she was just a little girl who addressed me as "Mr. Hardy". Now, though, that had changed. She confidently called me by my first name, and there was an undeniable sensuality in the way she said it.
I never imagined that this innocent fondness would evolve into something like this. Over the years, she had quietly but steadily touched my heart in ways I never could have predicted. The truth was, she made me feel... unworthy. I didn't deserve this kind of affection, this kind of love. Not from any woman. And especially not from her. She was the daughter of my best friend, Mason Turner, the one man I respected more than anyone.
"Thank you for dinner, Robert," she said, her voice soft and soothing, sending a wave of warmth through me. She had just returned from the bathroom and now sat beside me on the couch. "It was delicious."
I wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in my throat. I couldn't seem to look away from her. Isla had blossomed into something beyond what I ever could have imagined. How had I never seen this coming? Why didn't I realize that, sooner or later, she would mature into this stunning woman? I had tricked myself into thinking that my dear little Isla Turner would always remain just that-little.
But the joke was clearly on me now. The woman sitting beside me was no longer the girl I had once known. She was sophisticated, confident, and had the kind of allure that matched women in my own social circle-if not surpassing them entirely.
"I honestly didn't imagine you'd be living alone in such a huge house," she said, shrugging slightly, her eyes gleaming with fascination.
"Well, it can get a bit lonely at times," I admitted with a wry smile. "But I've always preferred solitude. It gives me time to think... to create." My voice trailed off as my gaze drifted toward her.
She twisted her lips into a cute pout, and I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.
"If you prefer your solitude, then my presence must be uncomfortable for you, right?" she asked, her tone filled with uncertainty. "I'm sure my dad must have..."
I noticed the subtle hurt in her voice.
"Isla," I said softly, reaching for her hand. "Your presence isn't intrusive. Actually, it's quite the opposite. It's brought a warmth to this house that I haven't felt in a long time." I paused, my gaze locking onto hers, my words more sincere than I intended. "I'm truly grateful for your company."
A coy smile curved on her lips, the expression a mix of curiosity and something else I couldn't quite place.
"Don't you bring women home?" she asked, her voice playful but edged with something deeper. "Or do they not bring the warmth?"
I couldn't help it, my laughter burst out uncontrollably, and before I knew it, I was laughing so hard that tears welled up in my eyes, my sides aching. Isla looked completely lost, her brow furrowed in confusion, a disapproving frown settling on her pretty face.
I should have told her that what she was asking was a personal question, and that I kept my relationships and private life entirely to myself. Instead, I found myself laughing like a complete fool.
"Why did you find that funny?" she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.
"I don't know," I said, shrugging lightly, trying to hide the tension building between us. "You just... surprise me."
"Really?" she replied, her voice dripping with disbelief, her eyes searching mine. I nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.
I watched as she shifted on the couch, her movements slow and deliberate. She inched closer, until our thighs were nearly touching. Her hazel eyes locked onto mine with an intensity I couldn't ignore, a quiet invitation I couldn't refuse. The satin of her dress clung to her body, and despite my best efforts, I couldn't avoid noticing the way her nipples pressed against the fabric. A jolt of desire shot through me, and I felt the unmistakable stir of arousal.
"Robert," she murmured, her voice low and teasing, sending a shiver down my spine. She leaned in, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck. Her fingers traced an invisible line down my shoulder.
"What are you doing, Isla?" I asked, my voice betraying the breathlessness I was struggling to control. I thought, for a moment, that my words might bring her back to reality, but instead, she took my hand and guided it to her thigh, pressing it firmly against the smooth skin beneath the satin.
"It's okay, Robert," she whispered, her touch gentle but insistent. Her fingers brushed my cheek, sending waves of heat through my body.
Her closeness, her touch, her voice-it was all too much. I was losing control, and a great part of me welcomed it.
Damn it. When did I become so vulnerable to these feelings? How had my little Isla transformed into this confident, irresistible woman?
Mason Turner would never forgive me for this.
"Isla..." I began, my voice barely a whisper, but she didn't let me finish. In one swift movement, she reached up, cupped the back of my neck, and pulled me into a kiss.
It was bold. Reckless. And for a moment, I froze, completely caught off guard by the intensity of her action. But then her lips, soft, pressed against mine, and I was lost. The kiss was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. It wasn't just a kiss. My body responded with an urgency I couldn't control, my heart pounding in my chest.
I'd kissed countless women before, but none of those kisses had ever felt like this. But then, I knew I needed to stop. It wasn't right!