I’m gasping for air by the time the last wave of it ebbs, and I lay my head on his shoulder. Breathing in, his spicy aftershave warms me.
Tears build again.
The tension in my body eases.
“Good girl.” He brushes my hair away and kisses my cheek, gently pushing me back against the door while he rights me.
I’m dazed, leaning back as he re-zips and buttons my jeans, straightens my shirt. I stare at him, speechless as he runs his hands through my hair, and tucks the thick strands behind my ear.
He brings me to the chair at his desk and eases me into it. Pressing one hand against the desk, the other to the back of the chair, he hovers again.
It’s moments before my brain functions again, and I turn to look up at him. My face flames with embarrassment.
I begged him.
I called him Sir.
I caved.
“Remember your rules, Sienna. I’ll be back in the morning.”
He opens my laptop and touches the mouse pad, bringing it back to life. “If you want to work,…work. I won’t stop you.”
I swallow.
“It will make it easier, right? I have my life, you have yours.” My voice is soft, to damn soft for the rage building in my chest.
He’s doing it again.
He was here, right here with me just like the night in the hotel, but now he’s pulling back. He’s replacing the man I couldn’t get out of my mind with the monster who met me at the altar.
“Yeah.” He walks to the door, grabbing the doorknob and pausing. “But never mistake who is in charge here, Sienna. If you want something, youwillask first.”
The door slams behind him and I’m alone.
My phone vibrates and I grab it, worried Melody is calling again about Tommy.
It’s a text message from my uncle.
And the black cloud I thought I left in New York settles over my head.
“We landed an hour ago,” Alexander tells me over the phone while I climb the steps to my townhouse. “Family dinner tomorrow night.”
“I’m not sure we can make it.”
“You hightailed it out of New York before dessert was finished at your own fucking wedding. You’ll be there tomorrow, or we’ll show up on your doorstep.”
“You know, you’re getting grouchier with your old age. I think Megan should consider having you put in a home.”
“You’re funny. Very fucking funny.” Alexander practically snarls.
“He’s not wrong. You’re really grouchy today.” Megan’s voice comes through the phone. I can picture the face he’s making, probably trying not to pull his own hair out.
She laughs. “Come tomorrow, Kaz. We want to get to know your captive bride.”
“Don’t call her that.” I grit my teeth, standing on the front stoop of the townhouse.
I haven’t heard from mybrideall day. I called, twice, no answer. Each of my four text messages went unread. If she’s trying to prove a point, that she doesn’t need or want me in her life, she’s going about it the wrong way.
