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That explained the men’s shoes. “Why?”
“Only way he can protect me.”
I couldn’t believe that Magnus and Fender were brothers because they were so different. Magnus exposed his softness and allowed himself to be vulnerable. Fender was stubborn, holding on to his power like he’d collapse if he let it go. I didn’t understand it.
“I don’t know why he wants to protect me at all, because it’s not the same.” Her eyes started to water more, for a whole other reason. “He won’t forgive me for what I’ve done to him. And I miss him…so much.”
“He will, Raven.” Fender forgave me. Magnus would forgive her too.
Her bottom lip trembled.
I could see myself in her that very moment. I could see the conflict, the pain of loving someone you shouldn’t love. I thought I was the only one. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”
She gave a slight shrug. “I didn’t either. I guess…I’ve always known. Just didn’t want to admit it to myself.”
I dropped my gaze to our joined hands. “He’ll come around.”
“I don’t know…”
“He will—because he obviously feels the same way.” I lifted my chin and looked at her once more, wanting her to feel hopeful rather than drowning in despair. Because I really believed both of these men were more than what they seemed. “I will convince Fender to release you. Not right now. Not tomorrow. But eventually…I will.”
“You shouldn’t have gone back to him, Melanie.” She sniffled and pulled her tears back into her sinuses. “You shouldn’t have done that for me. I never would have wanted you to do that.”
“It’s not so bad…” Images flooded my mind. The way he placed his hand on my neck when he kissed me. The way his dark eyes burned into my face with love, not hostility. The way he took care of me like I was a burden he wanted.
“Does he treat you well?”
Gowns. Diamonds. Gourmet meals. Parties. Lovemaking. A man who loved me with all his heart. It was the first time I’d felt at home since Mom died. “Yes…he does.”
Raven breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”
She shook her head. “He’ll never let me go, not after what I did. Not that I have any regrets about it.”
“I know he will.” I believed that man had a soul. I believed it was beautiful like his heart. And I believed that his love for me was real, not just infatuation, not just obsession. But there was something in the way. “He’ll do it…for me.”
When I returned to Fender’s cabin, dinner was laid out on the dining table.
Magnus shut the door the second I was inside and departed.
Fender sat forward with his elbows on the table, his glass full of scotch, the bottle beside him. He lifted his gaze and stared at me in silence.
He probably saw my red eyes, my puffy cheeks, my ruined makeup. I moved to the seat across from him like we were home in his bedroom, having dinner together as our nighttime ritual.
I placed the linen napkin over my lap and grabbed the silverware to eat.
He was still, his fingers interlocked as they rested against his mouth. It wasn’t an intense stare that shone with his obsession. He was clearly angry.
Like a deer in the headlights, I went absolutely still, too petrified to move.
“I’m waiting.”
I swallowed, confused by the statement.
“I’m waiting for your gratitude.” He was a different man when we were here. He wasn’t the man who could be entertained for hours just by looking at me. He was the boss. He drank his scotch, barked his orders, and his need for power increased tenfold.
“Thank you…”
Satisfied, he dropped his hands and began to eat.
The sex was rough too.
He wanted me on top, one hand deep in my hair, the other on my ass. He spanked me to increase my pace, making my skin redden because he did it so many times. He wetted his fingers in his mouth before they returned to my ass and slipped inside.
I slowed down and held on to his shoulders because I’d never experienced that before.
His eyes deepened in desire. “First time?”
I nodded, feeling his fingers pulse inside me.
That seemed to be the answer he wanted, because he gave a loud moan as the pace of his fingers increased. “I’ll do the honors when we get home.”
When sex was finished, he showered then moved back into the sitting room down the hallway. He had his laptop, so he worked on the couch, drinking scotch like water.
There was only one bedroom, so I wondered if he would sleep with me.
I lay there alone for a long time, drifting in and out of sleep, until I eventually got up and went to the living room. “Are you coming to bed?”
He was lying down on the couch, in just boxers. The scotch was on the coffee table beside him. His eyes were closed, so he opened them and looked at me. “I was in bed…until you woke me up.”
