Page 49 of Sinful Bride

I wonder if Elena will notice him when she arrives, or if she’ll even recognize him. I doubt she knew everyone who worked for her father. If she does, I wonder what she'll think about one of her family's men working for me.

I don’t mind that he’s here. It will underline what I’m trying to accomplish that much more.

"All right," I say, moving to sit behind my desk. "Let's get started. Finn, what's the status on the shipment coming in Thursday?"

Finn launches into his report. I listen with half my attention, the other half focused on the clock on the wall. One-fifty. One-fifty-three. One-fifty-five.

My heart is beating faster now. My palms are damp again. I wipe them on my jeans under the desk where no one can see. I try to look calm and in control.

One-fifty-eight.

The door is going to open any second now. Elena is going to walk in, unless she decides to disobey me. And then I'm going to do something I can't take back.

Two o'clock.

The door opens. Elena steps inside, and every head in the room turns toward her. She's composed and elegant, her expression carefully neutral. But I can see the tension in her shoulders. Her hands are clasped in front of her, knuckles white. There’s a slight flush on her cheeks, as if she’s angry or embarrassed. I have a feeling it’s a mixture of both.

She’s wearing a black pencil skirt with a cream-colored silk sleeveless blouse tucked in, and simple black heels. Her hair is pulled back in a sleek ballerina bun. She looks like she's dressed for a business meeting, like she belongs here.

Except she doesn't belong here. Not for this.

"Gentlemen," I say calmly, not looking away from her. My voice doesn't shake or betray the way my heart is hammering in my chest. "My wife will be joining us for a moment. Continue with your reports."

There's a beat of confused silence. Finn glances at Cormac. Cormac glances at me, one eyebrow raised in question. Sean shifts in his seat, looking uncertain. Dante Moretti's expression doesn't change at all. He just watches, calm and neutral.

Elena's eyes meet mine across the room. I can see her trying to figure out what I want. What I'm going to do.

"Elena," I say, my voice calm. "Come here."

She hesitates. Just for a second. Her chest rises and falls with a deep breath. Then she moves forward, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. The sound echoes in the quiet room. Everyone is watching her now.

When she reaches my desk, she stops. I can smell her floral perfume, and my heart rate kicks up a notch, my cock already thickening in my jeans. Just the scent of her brings back that night at her father’s party when we danced, and the knowledge that I have her now, at my mercy, is already getting me hard.

This isn’t the kind of man I ever thought I was. But Elena has done something to me that makes me feel as if I’m half-made.

I can see the pulse beating in her throat as she waits to hear what I’m going to say next. "Under the desk," I tell her quietly. Loud enough for her to hear, but not loud enough for the men to catch the words.

Her eyes widen. "What?"

"You heard me." I lean back in my chair slightly, making space as I gesture to the opening beneath the desk. "Get under the desk."

The color drains from her face. Then it floods back, her cheeks going bright red. Her lips part slightly. "You can't be serious," she whispers.

"I'm completely serious." I keep my voice calm, like I'm asking her to pass me a file instead of ordering her to her knees in front of my men. "You're my wife. I'm asking you to do your duty and obey me. If you don't want to, you can go back to your family, and we’ll see how your father feels about his daughter being sent back in disgrace. But if you want to apologize for your behavior at dinner, you can get on your knees under my desk and prove to me that you're sorry."

Her breath catches. I see the moment the full implication hits her. Her gaze flicks to the men sitting at the desk, then back to me. She knows better than to take the other offer. Even if she’s still a virgin, her worth to her father will have greatly diminished if her new husband sends her back. I feel a twinge of guilt for playing that card, but my frustration drowns it out.

"They'll know," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

"Yes. They will."

"You're a bastard." Her lips tighten, and my cock stiffens at the thought that very shortly, those lips are likely going to be wrapped around it. I’m almost fully hard now, and I haven’t even been touched.

This is supposed to be a demonstration of my power over her, but with the way my cock is beginning to throb right now, it’s starting to feel like she has more power than I do.

"I know." I gesture toward the space under the desk. "So what's it going to be, Elena? Are you going to obey your husband, or are you going to go home to Daddy?"

For a long moment, she just stares at me. I can see her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Fury and humiliation flicker across her face. She's weighing her options, trying to figure out if there's a way out of this that doesn't involve complete surrender.