Page 186 of Captive Ruin

Maybe he doesn’t need to change at all. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I need to better understand him.

“One chance,” I say wearily.

He lets out a rush of breath.

“Thank you,” he says very formally. “You won’t regret it.” He pushes himself up, straightening his clothing. “I’ll leave you for now; I’m sure you’re tired. Tomorrow?”

God, it’s like being paid a visit by Mr. Darcy.

“Tomorrow,” I agree, wondering what I’m agreeing to.

He walks out without another word, his head held high. Done what he came to do, and now he’s left.

And all I can think is that Van Wyk just quit his job for me. Apologized to me. It might’ve been the most cringe-worthy, awkward, stilted way that anyone has ever said ‘I’m sorry,’ but for him, it was a giant leap.

It’s only later that I think of all the other things he didn’t apologize for. Pinning me down. Spanking me. His velvet-lined cuffs. Forcing orgasms on me. Tying me to his bed.

If he didn’t see them as wrong, he must see them as right.

Can fantasy and reality coexist?

It gives me some hope.

Forty-One

Amelia

True to his word as always, Van Wyk is back the next morning, walking into the sunroom not long after breakfast. I’m only on chapter three of my new book.

“You wanted to know what kind of man I am,” he says without preamble.

I did, but I’m anxious. Part of me wants to know; part of me is scared to find out. What if there isn’t anything more to him than meets the eye? What if all I’m drawn to is a dark fantasy that should always have stayed a fantasy?

Except you married him.

An inconvenient truth.

I mark my place on the page with one finger. “How do you propose showing me?”

“By taking you on a date. Would you like to go?”

The notion is… strange. I don’t associate him with dates. “I’ll consider it,” I say indifferently. “When did you have in mind?”

“Right now.”

I scoff. “I’m not dressed for it, my hair’s a mess and I’m not wearing makeup. Maybe later.” I return my attention to my book.

“You look perfect,” he replies. “Just how I want you. Let’s go.”

“No thanks.” I pointedly turn my page, even though I hadn’t read the one before. I’ll turn it back when he’s left.

He crosses to me in quick strides, pulling me to my feet, my book tumbling into the chair. Then, if that wasn’t bad enough, he lifts my chin until I’m looking up at him, and boops my nose. “We’re going on a date. It’s going to be fun, and you’re going to enjoy it.”

“Am I?” I ask sarcastically.

“Yes, you are.” His confidence doesn’t waver.

I sigh. This is a man who’s already made the decision for me. There won’t be any getting out of it. “Where are we going?”