Font Size:  

As much as I wanted to be there for her, I also wanted her to be there for me. I relied on the beautiful sound of her heavy breathing to lull me to sleep. Her soft hair usually found its way across my chest, and it smelled like the roses just outside my window. Sometimes she sighed in the middle of the night, a sexy intake of air that told me she was dead asleep. Despite everything she’d been through, she was still so innocent. Her lips parted and showed her small teeth, and her eyelashes were thick and dark against her face. I wanted to be beside her just so I could witness the sight.

Not to mention, we’d be making love right now.

I knew a dry spell was on the way. I just hoped I could be patient enough and control my carnal instincts. My fingers twitched as I pictured my hand around her neck. My heart rate picked up when I imagined shoving her on the bed and yanking her panties down so I could fuck her hard while her ass was in the air.

But I couldn’t do anything like that.

Patience was a virtue—and I was quickly learning that.

Button and I didn’t speak the next day. I went to work without saying goodbye, and I spent my whole afternoon thinking about her instead of running the winery. While I understood her point of view better than she realized, she was putting me in a difficult position and holding me to standards I never agreed to.

We couldn’t go long without speaking—especially not fucking. But I wasn’t going to apologize for something I didn’t do. The world was a shitty place with shitty people in it. I wasn’t much better than the men she despised.

Perhaps she forgot who the man she married really was.

When I came home, Lars greeted me by the door. “Where would you like your dinner, sir?” It was obvious by the way he spoke Pearl had already instructed him to bring her dinner to her room—away from me.

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll let you know.”

He gave a swift nod. “Good luck, Your Grace.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna need it.” I went to our bedroom upstairs and found her on the couch in front of the fireplace. She was reading again, but she didn’t look up when I entered the room. She probably just assumed I was going to change then disappear.

I walked up to her and stood with my hands in my pockets.

She ignored me, her eyes still scanning the page from left to right.

“Pearl.” I didn’t call her by her nickname when she was this hostile. Button was a beautiful name. It deserved better than this stupid fight.

Again, she ignored me.

My nostrils flared as my temper roared. I had an ego, and I didn’t appreciate being ignored—by anyone. I snatched the book out of her hand and chucked it into the fire.

“Hey!”

“Good. Now I have your attention.” I sat on the other couch and listened to the fire crackle as it devoured the pages. It leapt up an inch higher once the extra material was thrown on top.

“I was reading that.”

“Hope you didn’t like it too much.”

Her blue eyes narrowed. “If this is your way of getting me to forgive you, you’re wasting your time.”

I almost laughed. “I don’t want your forgiveness. That implies I did something to break your trust—which I haven’t.”

Now her eyes burned hotter than the fire. “You’re an ass.”

I told myself to be more patient with her, but that was going to shit—quick. “You know what kind of business I run. I deal with men who chop off heads for a living. I sell guns to bad guys so they can kill other bad guys. This isn’t a news flash to you.”

“Yeah, I know—”

“How do you think I paid for this mansion you sit around in all day?” I cocked my head to the side, my fire matching her own. “How do you think I pay for all the fine clothes you love so much, the delicious dinners you eat every night? You don’t get to object to what I do but then enjoy all the perks it comes with. That’s not how it works.”

Her jaw dropped. “That’s not what I’m—”

I held up a finger. “I’m talking. Now you listen.”

She looked like she wanted to slap me.

“I already heard everything you said. Not once did I disagree with it. But travesties like this come with the territory. I’ve worked with lots of men who own slaves. Tristan isn’t the first, nor will he be the last. If I discriminated against everyone who did, I wouldn’t have a business to run. Is it wrong? Yes. Is it cruel? Absolutely. But I deal with men who do much worse things. I’m sorry if that hurts you. I understand why you’re so repulsed by it. I’m not a fan of it either. But there’s nothing I can do.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like