"He’s a corpse walking," I correct. "For the way he spoke to you.”
I reach out, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at me.
"Did he touch you?"
"No," she says. "He just… he made me feel dirty."
"You're not dirty." My thumb brushes her lower lip. "You're the oxygen in a room full of smoke. You’re the light in the tomb I’ve been living in for a decade. But most of all..." I lean in, pressing my forehead against hers. "You're mine."
The moment is reckless. Anyone could see us. James could turn around. A family could walk down this aisle.
I don't care.
I push her back against the rough bark of the fir tree. The scent of pine surrounds us. I press my body against hers, shielding her from the world, claiming her space.
"He thinks you're weak," I whisper, breathing in the cloud of air she breathes out into the cold, taking anything I can get of her down into my lungs. Absorbing her into my bloodstream. "He thinks you're a victim waiting for a savior. Are you?"
Blair’s eyes flash. The fire is back. Good.
"No," she hisses.
"Good."
I grind my hips against hers, letting her feel how hard being near her makes me. Violence and lust—they’re wired into the same circuit board in my brain. The need to protect her bleeds instantly into the need to breed her.
"I'm going to buy this tree," I tell her, my voice rough. "Then I'm going to take you home. And I'm going to fuck you until you forget that man’s name. I'm going to put so much of me inside you that there is no room for anyone else."
Her pupils dilate, swallowing the blue.
"Do it," she breathes.
I step back, the cold air rushing between us, but the heat remains.
I pull out my phone and dial the manager of the Reserve, never taking my eyes off Blair. She stares right back at me, mirroring everything I’m feeling right there behind her eyes.
"Mr. Hollis?" the man answers on the first ring.
"The twelve-foot Noble Fir in section four," I say, staring at Blair. "And the fifteen-foot Fraser next to it. Deliver them both today.”
I hang up.
Blair blinks. "Two trees?"
"One for the living room," I say, taking her hand and lacing our fingers together, pulling her toward the exit. "And one forthe bedroom. Since we’re going to be spending most of our time there."
She flushes the prettiest pink, but she doesn't pull away. No, she squeezes my hand back.
James Thornton has no idea he’s just made the biggest mistake of his life. I’m going to let him play his little games with Ryder. I’m going to let him think he’s winning.
And when he overextends himself, when he puts his own neck on the line to help my idiot son try to usurp me… I’m going to chop his head off.
But first, I have a tree to decorate.
And a woman to fill.
My house smellslike a fucking forest.
This tree takes up half the Great Room, its tip scraping the vaulted ceiling beams twenty feet up. It smells like a forest exploded in here. Sharp pine. Crisp winter air.
