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The demi bra gave her breasts a little added volume and, when paired with the violet short-sleeved
silk-lined knit sweater she wore, made her feel sexier, more in control.
She buttoned the tiny violet buttons that ran up the sweater, buttoning it far enough that only a hint of cleavage was left showing, and Alex’s bite marks were well covered.
There was no way in hell to hide the one on her neck completely. She applied her makeup then, following Rogue’s laughing advice, applied the heavy cover base to the mark before using a touch of foundation to blend it in against her skin. It was still there, but it wasn’t glaring.
Hell, if she couldn’t hide it, she may as well own it at this point, she told herself. But as she stared into the mirror and brushed her hair to curl around her neck, she couldn’t find it in herself to be ashamed of it.
Simply wary. Alex didn’t want others to know where he was sleeping at night, and she didn’t want to harm the reputation she knew he had in the county.
Thankfully, the cut and style of her hair helped to hide the mark. She knew it was there, though, and she had the memory of how it had been placed there. The mark on Alex’s neck couldn’t be hidden without a ton of makeup, she thought, as she applied her lipstick and stared at her own kiss-swollen lips.
What the hell had she been thinking when she’d done that?
Oh, she knew what she was thinking. Ownership. If only for a few days, however long it took for the mark to recede, everyone would know he had been claimed. It didn’t make a whit of difference, because no one would know who the hell had claimed him. But she knew. She knew, and each time she thought of it her stomach clenched at the memory.
Finishing up, she slid her feet into three-inch black heels, made certain her hair was still curled over the side of her neck, then left the bedroom.
Alex was still there.
He rose slowly from the kitchen table, where he was working on the laptop, and stared at her, his expression granite hard now, his eyes flat, distant.
Poor little Alex, the stupid little girl he was having to watch over wasn’t obeying him near as well as he would like. She almost snorted at the thought.
“I have twenty minutes to get downstairs,” she told him, moving to the fresh pot of coffee just finishing in the maker. “Can I drink this cup of coffee without being harassed?”
He closed the laptop slowly as she turned back with a full cup and lifted it to her lips. His expression was nerve-racking. She had never seen him look like that.
Pissed, obviously, she thought. That was too bad, because now she was pissed.
“It’s harassment to ask for one logical reason why you won’t marry me?” His hands were placed carefully on the table. Broad, calloused, strong male hands. Yeah, she loved those hands, too.
“I told you why. It was a completely logical reason. ” She’d lived without love for most of her life. She wanted love. She needed it.
“I care for you, Janey. ” He sighed. “You’d never have to worry about me cheating on you or hurting you. ”
He’d already hurt her, more times than she could count. The very fact that he went to such lengths to keep anyone from knowing he was staying with her had the power to rip at her heart if she let herself think about it too often. And she thought about it often.
She loved him. A
s she stared back at him, she realized, in some ways, she had loved Alex for years.
Every time Dayle had allowed her to come home, she had looked for him, asked about him. She had been fascinated with him. That fascination hadn’t changed.
She lifted her coffee to her lips and sipped, hoping the caffeine would clear her head. Despite the years she had spent keeping herself alone, isolated, giving Dayle no one he could use to strike out at her, Janey had managed to retain a few dreams. And one of those dreams was love.
“I deserve more than just a man who cares for me,” she finally told him. “You can care for a pet. I want to be more than that to someone, Alex. I need more than that. ”
He wiped his hand over his face and exhaled roughly. “Janey, sometimes you’re so damned mature you frighten me, then times like this you make me feel like a fucking cradle robber. ” He rose from his seat, frustration lining his face now as she watched him carefully. “Sweetheart, listen to me, what you’re looking for doesn’t exist, and you’re only going to get your heart broken looking for it. ” His face
hardened then. “And if you’re carrying my child, then that baby will suffer the effects of however you hurt yourself. Is that what you want?”
“We’ll discuss that if it happens. ” Her voice was a hell of a lot calmer than she was.
“It will happen. ” His arms bracketed her, his hands slapping against the counter beside her. “Trust me, sweetheart, if it didn’t happen last night, then it will tonight or the night after. Because fucking you without latex is too damned good to give up. ”
“I hope you’ve had blood tests lately,” she stated calmly.
