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A gentle knock sounded at the door as I ushered Conner out the window. As I raised my hands to close the window, all signs of victory in Conner’s stare bled to murderous rage. I lifted my gaze to see what he’d spotted and realized the moonlight had slanted over my arms to illuminate the ugly purple ring around my wrist.
Our stares collided, but I didn’t have time for this. I forced the window shut, then yanked my curtains closed, all thoughts of Conner pushed aside as I readied myself to deal with the fallout of his actions.
My bedroom door swung open until Sante’s wide-eyed stare met mine.
“Em?” he said with such heartbreaking tenderness and hope that my heart cracked straight down the middle.
I put a hand on my throat, knowing the ruse was over. “It was a nightmare,” I rasped. My scream gave my voice the appropriate scratchiness to disguise the lie, making me sound as though I hadn’t spoken in months. “It gave me my voice back.” I infused my voice with as much enthusiasm as I could muster past the foreboding looming over me.
Sante rushed at me, lifting me against him in a crushing hug. A genuine smile tugged at my lips to witness his joy. He swung me around in a circle like we’d just been reunited after years apart.
“This is incredible! I can’t wait to tell everyone.” He set me back on my feet and kissed my forehead affectionately. “You don’t know what a relief it is to hear your voice. I’ve missed that so damn much.”
I grinned. “You sure? Now I can boss you around again.”
“I’d like to see you try, little big.” His smile turned the room from night to day because it was so bright.
“Oh, I will. Like now—you need to get back to bed. It’s still the middle of the night.”
Sante tweaked my chin between two of his knuckles. “I’ll let you have that one, for old time’s sake.” He gave me one more quick hug, then retreated to the door. “Night, Em. Love you.”
“Love you, too, Sante,” I replied, emotions squeezing my throat tight.
Once the door closed, I was again alone in the darkness of my bedroom as I’d been when I’d gone to sleep hours earlier, yet nothing was the same. Come morning, Dad would know about my miraculous recovery, and I had no idea what that might mean for me.
I lay awake for hours.At first, my body vibrated with anger that Conner had forced me to reveal my secret. He’d been curious about why I was still silent around everyone else, but I never dreamed he’d out me like that. Then I was hit with a wave of despair when I realized that despite my fury, I didn’t hate him for what he’d done. Maybe it was the dawning realization in his eyes when he saw my wrists. He had no idea of the repercussions of his actions.
Now he knew.
He knew I wasn’t just being childish. He also had confirmation that my father wasn’t an honorable man. Would that cause him to reconsider the alliance?
God, I hope not.
I needed Conner and the escape he provided. He might have been brutish and been married to his career in corruption, but I knew in my gut that he wasn’t the same as my dad. Not by a long shot. Conner was every shade of gray, preventing me from giving him any one sweeping label. It made it hard to know just how I should feel about him. The only thing I knew for sure was how he made my body feel. My core had remained swollen and sensitive in the most delicious way for ages after he’d left.
I’d never had an orgasm before. Maybe I was weird, but I’d never really touched myself. I hadn’t felt the need when I was younger, and after Mom’s death, that was the last thing on my mind. I’d made out with boyfriends and been felt up, but it had never gone any further. I’d had no idea release would cause such an explosive need to cry out. If I had … would I have stopped him?
I wasn’t sure I liked the answer to that question.
My need for him at that moment had outweighed just about everything else. Perhaps somewhere down deep, I’d anticipated the relief I’d feel knowing the charade was at an end. The weightlessness of that relief helped counteract my crushing anxiety.
One more week.
Surely, I could survive a week until the wedding.
The wedding.
A shiver rocked my entire body.
On August first, I’d be forever joined to the man who broke into my room, seduced, then coerced me. Did I have any chance at holding my own against him?
I’d thought I could marry Conner and keep love and marriage separate, but now … I wasn’t so sure. Nothing about the Irishman was neat and tidy enough to fit into a safe little box like I’d hoped. Like trying to contain an earthquake. Impossible. I felt like I had zero control over myself or my situation. That was why I decided to go with Keir despite Conner’s objections. I needed to feel like I had a shred of control over my life.
The other reason behind my decision was more childish, but I didn’t care in the slightest. Conner’s actions reeked of jealousy. Why else keep me from spending time with his cousin? Conner wanted me to himself, and a messed-up part of me liked it. A shrink would probably blame years of an absentee father and substantial daddy issues. I didn’t care. Knowing Conner wanted me all to himself filled my chest with a strange warmth.
And besides that, I liked knowing I could make him feel just as powerless as he made me feel. Something about misery loved company, yada yada.
I was probably poking the dragon, but I couldn’t help myself. The way Conner pushed my buttons made it impossible not to push back.
