Page 138 of Captive Ruin

I shake my head, trying to catch up with this conversation. “How the hell did you get this number?” But the answer is obvious as soon as I ask the question: Tony has ratted me out. “Never mind, it was your lapdog, wasn’t it? Did he send you pictures of what I bought?”

“No. I saw them when you tried them on in the bedroom earlier.”

My breath catches, nipples tightening, my thighs pressing together beneath the water. His damn cameras. I’ve grown so used to them, I keep forgetting they are there.

He’s been watching me again. Maybe he never stopped. And a few nights ago, I lay on the duvet while I played with myself. Why didn’t I get a call then?

Is he watching me now?

Lifting a hand out of the water, I present my middle finger to the ceiling. “Is there one in this bathroom?”

He doesn’t even pause. “Yes. And that’s a spanking.”

I lean my head back against the tub and run my hand over one breast, letting out a soft sigh as I rub my stiff nipple with my thumb. “Are you enjoying the view?”

“You know I am.” His voice is husky. “Spread your legs.”

“Are you giving me commands when you’re not even here?”

He’s quiet for several beats of my heart. “I’m not commanding. I’m begging.”

That hunger in his tone excites me more than knowing he’s watching.

I close my eyes, listening to his breathing as I slide my hand down my body, beneath the water, my knees spreading. “Can you see everything?”

“No. I prefer it when you take a shower.”

A breathless laugh escapes me. “I bet you do.” I moan for him as I tease myself, louder than I need to. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” he says softly. “Lift your knees up. Imagine me—”

“No, that’s all you’re getting tonight.”

I kill the call, switch the phone to silent, and drop it back on the table beside me.

Then I relax in my bath, eyes closed, a satisfied smile playing on my lips.

If he wanted more, he’d be here, wouldn’t he?

Lucy leans back in her chair and crosses her arms. “Get. It. Annulled.”

“Okay, listen.” I hold up a placatory hand. “I knew you’d react like this, but—”

“React like what? Someone sane who’s just learned that their sister has done the most totally insane thing that a sister has ever done?”

“Catherine of Aragon.”

Lucy blinks twice. “What?”

“Her marriage to Henry VIII of England was a political necessity, and she was protecting her sister.” My lips twitch. “Juana the Mad.”

Lucy gives me the look that she reserves for when I’m at my most exasperating. “Are you calling me mad?”

“Anne Boleyn,” I continue.

“Who?”

“Her marriage to Henry VIII was directly to protect her sister Mary’s reputation, after Henry VIII had an affair with her.” The parallel to Serranto is chilling. “What do we take from this?”