Chapter 3: Boundaries Tested

Camille's POV

"You've been avoiding me all day." Nikolai's voice came from behind me as I stood by the pool, watching the sunset.

I'd spent most of the day in my room, unable to face what had happened last night. Unable to face Kieran's knowing looks at breakfast or the way Vincent smiled at me like nothing had changed.

"I'm not avoiding anyone," I said without turning around. "I needed time to think."

"About last night?" He moved closer, and I heard the smile in his voice. "Or about how good it felt?"

Those six words made heat crept up my neck. "That shouldn't have happened."

"But it did." Nikolai came to stand beside me, close enough that our arms almost touched. "And you wanted it. And I know you still do."

I finally looked at him. "One night," I said firmly. "That was all it was."

"Is that what you told yourself this morning?" He turned to face me fully. "Because from where I stood, it looked like you could barely walk straight. Like Kieran and I had taken you apart and put you back together."

"Stop." But my voice lacked conviction, and we both knew it.

"Make me." But before I could respond, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me against him. "You can pretend all you want during the day, Camille. But at night, you remember what it feels like to be wanted."

His mouth crashed against mine, and I badly wanted to push him away. But instead, I kissed him back with all the frustration and confusion forgetting the fact that I was still a married woman.

Nikolai's hands slid down my back, pulling me against him. The kiss deepened, it was becoming rough, and I forgot why I'd spent all day trying to convince myself this was wrong.

His touch erased every rational thought until all that remained was need.

He broke away first, breathing heavily. "Tell me you don't want this. Look me in the eye and tell me."

I couldn't. Because I just stood there, staring at him.

"That's what I thought." His thumb traced my swollen lips. "You're not made for a celibate marriage, Camille. You need to be touched. And I'm more than happy to give you that."

"It's not that simple."

"It is that simple." He spun me around so my back pressed against his chest, his arms caging me in. "Vincent knows what you need. That's why he asked us here. So stop fighting it."

His lips found my neck, and I leaned back into him despite myself. And for a moment I let myself imagine this was normal.

That wanting two men while married to another wasn't the most complicated situation I'd ever been in.

Then I remembered the accident. The way Vincent had looked six months after, when the doctors finally told him the nerve damage was permanent. How he'd cried in my arms, apologizing over and over for not being able to be a real husband anymore.

The memories made me pull away from Nikolai, putting distance between us.

"This isn't right," I said, wrapping my arms around myself. "No matter what Vincent says, this isn't right."

"Why? Because society says so?" Nikolai said, clearly frustrated. "Your husband is giving you permission. He wants you to be happy. What more do you need?"

"I need…" I stopped, not sure how to finish that sentence. What did I need? To not feel guilty? To have my old life back? To feel desired without feeling like I'm betraying someone?

"What a touching scene." A voice said behind us. We both turned around to find Kieran standing at the patio door.

He'd clearly been watching for a while, and the jealousy radiating from him was palpable.

"Kieran," I started, but he cut me off.

"You couldn't even wait till night, you already had your hands on her the first chance you got."

"She's not yours alone," Nikolai shot back. "Vincent gave us both permission."

"Permission isn't ownership." Kieran stopped in front of us, his attention fixed on me now. "Does he know about your conversation with Vincent this morning? About how you tried to convince him to increase your share of the arrangement?"

My stomach dropped. "What arrangement?"

"Nothing," Nikolai said quickly, but the guilt on his face told a different story.

"Tell her." Kieran crossed his arms. "Tell her how you suggested Vincent should choose one of us. How you pitched yourself as the better option."

"Is that true?" I looked at Nikolai, needing to hear him deny it.

He had the grace to look uncomfortable. "It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" My voice rose despite my attempt to stay calm. "Were you competing? Is this some kind of game between you two?"

"At least not for me. I meant what I said last night." Kieran said.

"Meaning?" Nikolai's defensive tone made it worse. "I'm here too, Camille. I want you too."

"But you want to cut him out." The pieces were falling into place now, ugly and clear. "You want Vincent to choose you exclusively."

"Can you blame me?" Nikolai moved closer, but I stepped back. "After last night, after feeling you respond to me, why would I want to share that?"

"Because that's what Vincent asked for." Kieran yelled at him. "Both of us. Not one."

They stared at each other, and I realised that this was about to become a fight.

"Stop." I said, moving between them. "Both of you, just stop."

But they freaking ignored me, still locked in their staring contest.

"I said stop!" I shoved Kieran's chest, then Nikolai's, forcing them to acknowledge me. "This is exactly why this was a mistake. You're treating me like a prize to be won instead of a person."

"That's not…" Kieran started, but I cut him off.

"It is. Both of you are so busy fighting over who gets more of me that you're not even seeing what this is doing to me."

Before either could respond, the patio door opened again. Vincent wheeled out, his expression unreadable as he took in the scene.

"Camille," he said calmly. "Can you come inside? We need to talk."

My heart sank but I still followed him inside, I didn't bother looking back at Kieran or Nikolai. Vincent led me to his study and closed the door. When he turned to face me, his expression was serious but not angry.

"I've been thinking about this arrangement," he began. "And I've made a decision."

"Vincent…"

"They're staying the month." He held up a hand to stop my protest. "Both of them. Here, in this house. And by the end of thirty days, you need to choose."

I started laughing. "Choose what?" I asked in-between laughter, but I stopped seeing he wasn't joking.

"Which one you want. You need to figure out what will make you happy, Camille. Because I can't keep watching you tear yourself apart over this."

"That's not fair."

"Life isn't fair." He wheeled closer, taking my hand. "The accident wasn't fair. My injuries weren't fair. But this? This is me trying to give you something good in all the unfairness. So choose. That's all I'm asking."