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I scoffed to hide my laugh at how wistful I’d become over his suggestion. “Oh.”
“Oh,” he echoed. “Not everything has to be done with brute force.”
“And I’m sure a professor would feel perfectly comfortable turning away someone like you from his doorstep.”
He rested his hands on the leg crossed in front of him as his mouth turned down. “What does that mean, ‘someone like me’?”
“You’re twice the size of some men. Anyone would be right to feel intimidated by you.”
“You don’t.”
“Of course I do.”
“Not really, though,” he said. “Is it because you grew up around me?”
I gaped at him only a moment, then shut my mouth. I wasn’t going to indulge him in a conversation about how scared or not scared of him I was. That was just another way for him to exert power. Since I didn’t care for the direction of the conversation, I changed it. “How do you know Barto won’t break in again?”
His knuckles whitened around his shin. “Max and I are taking care of it.”
“You know how he got in?”
“We have video.”
“So you know?”
He narrowed his eyes. “We’re still reviewing it.”
That was a no, and I could see it bothered him. I sipped my wine, using the glass to hide my smile. “Are there cameras outside the house?”
“Of course, and after Barto’s little show, we’ll be installing more as soon as possible. Inside and out.”
“So you and your men can watch me at all times of the day. I’ll never have any privacy.” My jaw tingled. “Perverts.”
“We’re not per—it’s for your own safety.” He inhaled through his nose and flexed his hand a couple times. “No man will ever lay eyes on your naked body again.”
“What if I strip down right here in the middle of the patio? You’re telling me there aren’t cameras here?”
“You wouldn’t, but my team knows when to look away anyway. You have my word.”
“Your word doesn’t exactly mean much,” I pointed out.
“Then consider that shielding you from them isn’t for your peace of mind. It’s for mine. If Max ever looked at you, he knows I’d remove his other eye.”
“Why?” Now that my basic needs had been met, I could focus all my attention on the man in front of me. Who he was, what drove him, what held him back. That would only help me navigate whatever was coming my way. “You’ve told me I’m only yours, and you haven’t even touched me. Why do you care what happens to my body?”
“Because I’m selfish and possessive over what’s mine.”
“This home is yours, and you share it with others. You invited half the town here last night.”
“And you think I should invite half the town to your body?”
He’d never. I pushed the unbidden thought away, irritated I’d assume there was any horrific thing Cristiano wasn’t capable of. Maybe he’d been possessive, and even protective, since he’d returned to town—but that didn’t mean I was safe with him. “I thought when I came here, I’d be treated like your other women.”
“What women? I don’t own anyone else,” he said, wetting his lips with a hint of a smile before it vanished. “How are women around here treated?”
“Worked, passed around, sold.”
The flash of irritation over his face told me more than words could—I’d poked at something he didn’t like. His brows lowered. “We don’t treat anyone that way, no matter their age or sex.”
“Just me then. How many women have you sold?” I asked. “Is that why you go to Russia?”
His eyes shuttered. “I’ll answer your questions in time, I promise. But not when you’re on a mission to malign me.”
“I’m not,” I said, relaxing into my chair as I ran a fingertip along the rim of my wineglass. I still had a sip left before I’d cut myself off. “I’m genuinely curious.”
“This isn’t a two-sided conversation.” He tracked my hand with his eyes. “You won’t listen to reason now.”
I sighed and told the truth, hoping sincerity would gain me something. “If you’re hurting women, or anyone, I won’t be a part of it. Not even as a bystander. And children?” I asked. “Do you take them, too?”
He slid his drink away its stem, wine sloshing against the glass. “I don’t take anyone.”
“You took me,” I challenged.
“That’s not true.”
“I wasn’t willing, and we both know it.” I picked up on the irritation in his voice, but I had a feeling getting to the bottom of it would teach me something important about Cristiano, especially if he didn’t want me to know. “If you’d take one person, you’d take others, and how is that different from smuggling people like weapons or narcotics?”
He inhaled audibly. “Marrying you is not equivalent to human trafficking.”
“Why not?” The cracks in his composure sent a thrill through me, spurring me on. “It’s playing with a human life.”
“That’s enough,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “What right do you have to question me when—”
