Page 105 of Shark’s Pride

But did I?

My soul still said yes. Even my heart did.

But my spirit was deflated.

I loved him too. Admired him. Believed in him. Trusted him. Right now—literally—with my life. But did I want to be with a man who didn’t respect me as an equal? Who thought it appropriate to order me around with the expectation of total compliance, no matter how “noble” his reasons for doing so? I wasn’t talking about our dynamic in the bedroom, where he could dictate we’d screw upside down from the chandelier and I’d happily agree. Sebastian knew exactly how to make my body sing.

But spectacular sex didn’t automatically bring emotional closeness. Or a relationship bond. Or the glue for a connection that would last forever.

And right now, I was wondering if we’d let the sex delude us into thinking we had the rest.

I’d seen a different side of him—or rather, a side I hadn’t seen in a while—when he’d simply decreed that we wouldn’t be further discussing Viktor Blake’s accusations. Granted, the bastard’s ballsy intrusion into the party was jarring, enraging, and unexpected, but in many ways, Bas’s reaction was equally as disturbing. He’d opened a spillway of spite but then erected a dam of rancor. His finishing move? Surrounding it all with barbed wire, promising I’d bleed if I stepped within inches.

But the bossy shark behavior was just one issue. And not even the biggest hurdle to tackle here. What on earth was Sebastian really keeping from me? Viktor had thrown down at the party with a lot of cocky swagger. Was he bluffing? Did he truly have an empty quiver? If not, what was he getting at with his comments? His motivation had been crystal clear. Viktor was trying to fill me with doubt. Well, it had worked. Spectacularly. And that suffocating doubt was causing a domino effect on my confidence, forcing me ask one of the hardest questions I’d ever had to ask myself.

Had Rio been right this whole time? Had I dived headfirst into this relationship without really knowing the man behind the computer monitors? Had I given my body, heart, and soul to a man with more skeletons than I’d imagined?

I couldn’t ignore the facts. My age and inexperience. His reputation and drive. They’d collided in the eye of a crazy storm, inciting us to move things fast in our courtship—if that was even what it could be called. Then there was the storm itself, careening around us. Bringing harrowing events and real danger. The Tawny saga. The false alarm about Cinnamon. The marine-life calling cards. All convincing motivation to move into his home—voluntarily parking myself deeper beneath his wing.

But what did it all mean now?

If not for the insane twists of the past few weeks, I would never have moved in here already. I’d have signed another lease at my condo. I wouldn’t be without options for a place to stay now.

As it stood, I was basically homeless. Trapped. A pathetic damsel in a castle with a king only interested in doing things one way. His.

In some ways, I’d done this to myself. That general way of thinking worked for us in the bedroom—with mind-blowing goodness—but so far, so much of our time had been spent hot and horizontally. Had I let the smoke of our sexual fire cloud my judgment about everything else? Had I not realized that Bas would demand—and expect—my acquiescence about a lot of other aspects too?

And if that was going to truly be the way of things, could I get on board with that?

I was young, but I wasn’t stupid. Or weak.

There was a difference between trusting a man and then letting oneself be minimized by him. And that was really how things felt when Bas “put me in my place” yesterday. More than once.

Finally deciding sleep was not going to happen, I got up and took a fast shower in the guest bathroom. With equal swiftness, I got ready for work. To be as quiet as possible—for my comfort, not his—I skipped on making a cup of coffee. But as I pulled out of the driveway, I caught a glimpse of the blinds parting in the master suite. Apparently my mouse act had been for naught. I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep.

As soon as I merged onto the freeway, my phone signaled with a text message.

Have a good day at work, baby. See you at lunch.

Bas knew I didn’t like texting and driving, so he wouldn’t expect a reply. I did have to give him some credit for the gesture. At least he was trying.

But I still wasn’t sure I could face him yet. More accurately, that I could keep my head separated from my libido long enough for a rational conversation with him.

Maybe I could talk Rio into making the lunch deliveries. Okay, so it was the cowardly way to handle the situation, but unless I had a moment of pivotal clarity between now and then, I couldn’t imagine wanting to talk to him at lunchtime either.

It was odd being the first one in the kitchen for a change. I checked the website’s order portal to see if anything had come in that we weren’t already aware of. Fortunately, no pop-up surprises. Most days we didn’t mind the challenge, but with no sleep and a very preoccupied mind, I just wanted a routine day.

I tied my apron around my waist and got busy. Over an hour had passed when I heard Rio slipping her key into the lock. Hopefully she’d seen my truck when pulling in so my presence wouldn’t be a surprise.

“The early bird gets the worm!” my sister-in-law said by way of greeting.

“So the saying goes.”

As much as I fought to emulate her cheer, Rio halted hard enough to screech the floor with her Chucks. “Whoaaa, Abs, you look like shit. Truly, I mean no offense. Were you going for a Goth vamp vibe today?” She took a second look back over her shoulder while hanging her purse on the hook by the computer desk.

“Ha-ha,” I deadpanned—nearly literally, if her assessment was accurate—and that woman was more observant than a seasoned FBI agent. “Just didn’t sleep well last night. Guess I should’ve gone heavier with the concealer.”

“Everything okay?” She asked it conversationally, but I knew better. Honestly, I felt bad for my future nieces or nephews. Nothing escaped this woman.