Page 31

Again and again. Used.

I’m more scared of court than I was when he almost killed me.

I would do absolutely anything in the whole world if I thought it would make her happy.

Whichever ones he was reading, any of them – all of them – were private. Too private for him to know they spoke to me. Yet, I didn’t stop him. I let him sink one layer deeper under my skin.

It was bad enough that he was in my apartment – in an apartment that I paid for myself. His presence reminded me of a time when everything I owned had been given to me by men. The things I had now, though small in number and worth, were all mine.

Trying to distract myself from the anxiety Reeve’s invasion caused, I asked, “Why do you want to know about Chris anyway? Do you want me to fix you up? He’s got a fiancée, you know.”

Reeve shot me a glare. “Cute.”

He put the book back on my shelf and moved toward me. When he reached the counter, he said, “Chris doesn’t look at you like he has a fiancée.”

Ah. I’d forgotten Reeve was a jealous man. Or I’d underestimated the depth of his envy. Strangely, it was a fairly common trait of the kind of men I’d involved myself with in the past, the kind of men who had everything. I knew how to pander to them, knew what to say to put their insecurities to rest. No one could ever be man enough to compare with you, I’d say. It might have been what Reeve was looking for in regard to Chris.

But I couldn’t bring myself to give it to him. “A lot of men don’t look at me like they have a fiancée.”

Reeve leaned across the opposite side of the counter so we were face-to-face. “I don’t like that.”

Jealousy was generally boring, yet on Reeve, it was fascinating. And, I suspected, dangerous. “You don’t? What are you going to do about it? Lock me up and never let me out in public?”

“I have some nice secluded resorts I think you’d like. My island properties are so beautiful you’ll forget you’re in a prison.”

He flashed his dimple. It was subtle, only noticeable when he smiled in a certain way, the way he was smiling now. And his eyes… I’d thought they were blue, but now I saw green flecks. They caught in the light. They caught me in them, made me feel warm. Made me feel trapped.

I stood up straight, distancing myself without moving away. “Look at you. Acting as if you have some claim to me. I think I already blew you off the other night.”

“Look at you, acting as if I’m a person that you blow off. I think I already warned you about me.” He was teasing as I’d been. But he wasn’t all at the same time.

My heart skipped a beat. “Another threat?”

“If you want it to be.” He looked at me like he had earlier – that intent way that saw through me, into me. Saw all my dark parts.

In a way, he was showing me his darkness as well.

My lip quivered, but I wasn’t scared. Well, not scared enough. “I do.”

His eyes sparked, and with that simple phrase, we entered into an agreement. He would have me. He would fuck me. He would bring me into his world.

And in return I’d let him break me.

I took in a shuddering breath as I fell under the heaviness of our unspoken understanding. He saw it and straightened.

Now, I thought. He’s going to make his move now. He’s going to take me now. He’d strip me but he’d keep his own clothes on, undoing his pants only far enough to release his cock. He’d be coarse and crude and he’d make me late for the set. Now.

I wasn’t prepared. I was so ready.

He walked around the counter to join me in the kitchen. At the frame, he paused. “Then why have you ignored every invitation I’ve sent?”

“Your notes? Huh.” I wrung my hands together, more nervous than I wanted to be. “Maybe I should have read them before I threw them away.”

His eyes narrowed to incredulous slits. “You threw them away without reading them?”

“They felt detached. Impersonal gifts sent by one of your minions. Did you even select them yourself?” I’d planned to say all this to him eventually, but now the words seemed tedious. Seemed like obstacles dotting the couple of yards between us. Now. I willed him to close the distance. Now.

“I did select them myself. Every one of them. They would have felt less detached if you’d read what I’d said.”