Page 16 of Outcast’s Vow

I emerge from the plane’s restroom to see Sylvie cautiously watching. I’m in a new suit that’s been tailored specifically for my broad frame. I finish adjusting my cufflinks as I step into her view.

“Refreshed?” Sylvie asks me, her eyes glinting in the muted lighting, a dangerous smirk resting on her pretty lips.

We’re the only ones in the cabin.

Does she know I was just playing with myself in there to the thought of her?

She’s certainly refreshed herself. Sylvie had her turn in the shower before me. You wouldn’t believe she’s spent the day hiding in a tropical rainforest. In a soft cashmere sweater and slim-fit pants, her hair is loose but glossy, and every trace of tropical soil has been washed clear from her face. She’s curated and calculated and impossible to ignore, with a composed intelligence assessing the room and me.

But there’s one thing out of place with her. One thing I have the pleasure of noticing.

A faint tension in her jaw.

Not fazed by the swaying turbulence, I settle in my seat opposite Sylvie and ignore her comment.

“We’ll be landing soon,” I say. “I suggest you rest before the wheels hit the tarmac.”

I take in her scent. Sandalwood and iris. Very refined. Very rooted. Very intoxicating.

“I don’t need you telling me what to do,” Sylvie replies.

“What a bold statement.”

“And I want to make something very, very clear before we go any further,” she continues. “If you want a wife, then we need terms. I’m sure you’re familiar with a negotiation before.”

“What is it that you want to make clear, Your Highness?” I ask her dryly.

“We’re going to be equals in this relationship.”

I lean back.

“Equals?”

“I’ve been thinking...”

“That’s dangerous.”

“And I want to draw up a boundary,” she says. “Right now. I want to have a say. Over everything. I’m not going to be like one of those other women you saw today. You can have my name, but you don’t have my yes.”

I let out a dark chuckle to hide the little pang of fear that shudders through me.

“You can fight me, defy me, trade barbs with me, and even run away from me, woman, but you can’t deny the fact that from now on you are mine.”

Sylvie shakes her head, frustration peeking through her elegance. But she doesn’t look away. She doesn’t back down.

“You’re a piece of work, Baptiste.”

“You can challenge me all you want,” I explain slowly, “but now it’s my turn to make something very, very clear, Your Highness. Sure, we can be equals, but I want to make sure you’re protected. It’s my utmost priority when it comes to you. It’s the least my wife deserves, and I’ll do anything to keep you safe. That I can promise you without a negotiation.”

Sylvie crosses her arms.

Maybe she even likes what I just told her. There’s that tension in her jaw, and now there’s a tremor in her hand. It’s something she thinks she’s hiding, but I see it.

And I hate how much I care. I hate how much I want to stop that tremor.

“Once we land, we’ll part ways before the official wedding,” I say. “But then we’ll be with each other. Forever.”

“Hm.”