“Did anyone ever tell you three how insufferable you all are?”
“Not the way you do, pretty lady,” Darien said, smiling seductively at her.
She rolled her eyes, took a bite out of the roll, and took a spoonful of the stew.
Her body, unaccustomed to such lavish eating two days in a row went into shock at the taste of carbs and potatoes, and suddenly, she couldn’t feed herself fast enough.
She hadn’t eaten that much food in so long, that she couldn’t remember when the last time was.But that wasn’t all; Austin apparently could make an apple pie that made her taste buds sing.
Fine.This was the last day she was ever going to eat that much food.
Except it wasn’t.
For the next two days, they fell into a strange rhythm.
For the most part, she avoided them completely and stayed in her room, watching the snow and earnestly looking for a small lull in the simmering storm.When it was meal time, they took turns coming to her room, scooping her up, and carrying her to the table.
Just how many staples did they bring with them?A whole grocery store?How long they planned on staying would be a better question.Austin was able to whip up the most mouth-watering food, and she ate everything.Not that she had a choice, and her protests fell on deaf ears.In the end, she told herself she needed the sustenance if she was going to escape.
She didn’t realize it, and when she did it was too late but somehow and disturbingly mealtimes became her favorite part of the day.She listened to their conversations without participating, and she liked it that way.Hearing their voices and their deep, husky, rough tones, both comforted her and created a well of arousal in her.
They still didn’t give her much more information and rerouted back to their only reason for being there.She belonged to them.
But at some point, she felt she needed to say something.It gnawed at her.She didn’t want them to think of her as a stupid bimbo.
“I didn’t love him,” she said abruptly at the table, laid with a pasta dish she could have eaten from the serving bowl itself.“I mean.Desmond Morton.The man I married.He caught me when I was broken and vulnerable.My dad had just died.And Morton had ...still has something that belongs to me, and he promised me he would give it back.He lied.He also didn’t touch me...obviously, you know that,” she said turning red.Why was she telling them this?Why were their jaws clenched so tightly?But she couldn’t stop.
“I told him I would only sleep with him after our wedding, and that was when he was supposed to give me back my possession.I drew up a contract for that.But he got arrested on the night of my wedding and has been in jail for the last three years since then.
“He kept telling me I had to wait for him, but I knew he was just playing me.I made peace with myself that he was never going to give me back what belonged to me.The divorce was finalized about two weeks ago now, and suddenly, he was somehow released from prison and Peter thinks he’s coming for me.But I guess you knew most of that.”
“He won’t be coming anywhere near you, Adrienne.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, except that her heart seemed to soar and burst, and she had no idea what it meant.
That feeling of contentment, ever-present, increased in intensity again.But it bothered her now.They couldn’t protect her forever.She couldn’t be around them forever without losing every part of her soul to them.
Dear god, what was wrong with her?
It had to stop.Initially, her plan had been to leave, but now she wanted them to leave.This was the cabin in which she was going to grow old in and then die.
“I have a proposition.How about a game of poker?”she said, tossing a pack of cards onto the table.“I win; you have to do whatever I say.No questions asked.”
“And if one of us wins?”
“Same thing.You get to ask me to do anything you want,” she said confidently.Adrienne had learned to play poker from her father and had never lost, not once.He did, though, the night before his heart gave in, and he died on the street getting to his car.
“Then let’s play strip poker,” Darien said.They turned their gazes on her expectantly.
As if she were going to say no.
“I get you out of your clothes, you do whatever I want.”
“Same goes for you.”
“Strip poker it is, then.”She intended to keep all her clothes.
Them?Not so much.And then she’d send them on their way, never to see them again.
