AllFreeNovel
Share Us
No one is going to want me when they find out. Father is going to make me run in the Curusm. Or worse, sell me off to one of his dirty old friends for sure.
“Are you crying?”
So consumed in her own misery and fear, she’d nearly forgotten he was there. Wiping at her eyes, she went to straighten her clothing, realized she was all but naked, and a complete fool, and a fresh wave of tears, took over.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed. “He told me to stay pure. He told me you’d be disappointed if I didn’t.”
Callum’s eyes narrowed. “Your father?”
Vivian stilled, barely nodding her head.
“What else did he tell you I’d want?”
Grasping onto that question as though it was a lifeboat, and she was adrift with only one opportunity to be saved, Vivian launched into a list. “I’m great with kids. I’m better at crocheting but I can knit a potholder. I’m very organized. Fantastic with a budget. I can make a wonderful lemon-scented cleaner. Admittedly, my meatloaf could use a little work, but with ketchup it’s great, and I make an amazing lasagna. Oh! And I’ve perfected pie crust now. I make the best pecan pie.”
Finishing her list, she prayed it was adequate enough to please him since it seemed her body wouldn’t do. But then she looked at him and her stomach felt like a rock.
The look on his face was one she was all too familiar with: rage, disappointment, and dark, dark anger.
The tears returned. Holding her hands firmly clasped in front of her, she tried not to shake, but couldn’t help the stammer that began. “I’m so sorry that it’s not enough. I can do better, I promise, I–”
“What the fuck makes you think I’d want some 1950’s housewife?” He took a step forward.
Cowering, she jumped backward, making herself as small as possible.
The tense look on his face eased for just a moment before he turned away, grabbed the back of his head with two hands, and roared out a curse.
Terrified, she watched the rise and fall of his shoulders as he took a few deep breaths.
She wondered if Rafe was close enough to have heard him holler. Was he near enough to help her if Callum got violent?
Slowly, he turned to face her. His voice was lower and much calmer when he told her, “I want a mate with opinions and ideas. With goals and dreams. Someone who’s going to keep me in line.” A faint smile played over his face. “Someone who isn’t going to agree to everything I say, and spread her legs on demand. I want a partner, not a slave.”
She sank onto the bed, remembering once more that she was naked, and pulled a blanket over her body. “I’m so embarrassed.”
He came a little closer. “You shouldn’t be. It’s not your fault. It’s this fucking pack.” Under his breath he whispered, “I hate it here.”
She snorted. Me too.
“Can I sit?” He motioned to the mattress.
She nodded. Once he’d sat down, his scent was even stronger. The pulsing between her legs grew worse. The ache inside her tightened. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but didn’t dare.
Vivian didn’t look at him when she told him, “If you reject me, you’ll need to do so formally, before Thatcher.”
He shifted on the bed, his body turning toward her. “You think I’d reject you?”
Bashfully, she lifted her gaze. “I’m not what you wanted.”
For a second, his gaze darted down to the sheet she held over herself. A smile played across his face. “Vivian, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think you can be that kind of mate? The kind that’s going to challenge me and make every day worthwhile?”
“I can’t do that with a meatloaf recipe?”
Callum’s shoulders slumped. “Is that what you want? Is that what you want out of a relationship?”
