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“Of course, sir. I assumed you meant the one near yours? And I assumed you meant one for someone kept under guard. Thayer filled me in.”
I nod as we walk down the hallway toward the bedrooms. I watch her out of the corner of my eye. She’s pretending she isn’t observing every single damn thing along the way.
“Well,” she says almost begrudgingly. “I shouldn’t be surprised you live in the lap of luxury.”
There was a time that I imagined bringing her here, only in my imagination, the circumstances were very, very different.
“I like to work hard and play hard.”
“Right. And you need a place large enough to accommodate your monstrous physique?”
I press my lips together. I won’t be taunted. “Remember what I said about sarcasm.”
Still, I can’t help but smirk at her comment. She isn’t wrong. When I work, I’m laser-focused. When I come home, I like my surroundings luxurious and spacious. I spend good money on shit that will last.
“Surely you didn’t pick this all out yourself?” she asks, gesturing toward the furnished rooms. “Either you hired someone, or you’ve got a hidden talent for interior decorating.”
“I don’t give a shit about whatever decorating. I told someone what I wanted, paid them good money to do it, and they delivered.”
I’ve got the most up-to-date electronics and comfortable, well-made furniture that will last, but most importantly, the large bay windows look out over the Louvre. At night, the city twinkles, as if it were a movie set.
My bedroom’s decorated in simple, muted tones to help me relax, with leather and wood accents, and a king-sized bed I’m told is designed for the best night’s sleep.
Not that I ever sleep.
But we aren’t going to my bedroom.
Occasionally, my brothers or mother come to visit, so I made sure this home had a guest room. I know how I am. I know if Cosette’s anywhere near me, I’ll soften. Before I know it, she’ll be in my bed.
And that’s not why we’re here.
“Ground rules,” I tell her. “You know why you’re here. You’ll stay in the guest room unless I give you permission to leave.”
“Mhm,” she says, her lips pursed.
Still trying to pretend she isn’t afraid.
“I was thinking I was tired and could put off your interrogation until the morning, but now I’m thinking it might be smart to start this off on the right foot.”
She grits her teeth but doesn’t fully hide the fear in her eyes. She swallows.
“Right.”
My pulse begins to quicken. I love dominating anyone, but dominating Cosette’s a particular delicacy.
She’s your prisoner.
I can’t let myself forget even for a second why she’s here.
Why I am.
It won’t be like punishing a man.
No.
The beauty of knowing her so intimately is that I know exactly how to push her buttons.
“Lyam,” she begins. “I’m very tired, and so are you.”
