Isabella’s POV
“Aren’t you coming inside?” I asked when I turned to see Ethan standing at the threshold of my room. I was once again struck by how handsome he was. The way he wore his raw masculinity so confidently stirred a deep response in my feminine core.
“I want to,” he said gruffly, his hands fisting at his sides as if he were trying to hold himself back. His conflicted tone was so at odds with the mesmerizing look in his eyes— the dark pools of desire connected with my gaze with such startling intensity, that I found it hard to catch my breath, even with several feet separating us.
“I want to come inside more than anything else, but…I don’t want you to regret it tomorrow.”
“I won’t,” I assured him.
His eyes narrowed on my face. “I want you to understand this, Isabella. If I step through this door, I won’t leave.”
In response, I closed the distance between us and took hold of his hand, pulling him into the room and shutting the door behind us.