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“You think I want her? That nurse?”
“I saw you,” my shoulders sag. “I saw her touching you and not just to stitch you up.”
“Then you must have missed when I grabbed her hand and told her to stop. You must have missed when I told Matias to escort her off the property. She’s banished. I don’t want her. I’ve never wanted her. I only wanted my shoulder stitched. And don’t remind me of the clause in the contract. I’m the one who put it there. I’m the one who wanted to make sure you knew I was serious. Whatever you thought you saw, you didn’t. I am not interested in her. If you want, I can call her over so I can tell her in front of you.”
“I’d prefer if she never stepped foot in this house again.”
“Careful, Tesoro. You almost sound jealous.”
I bend down to snatch a shirt off the floor and throw it at him as hard as I can, then bend down and pick up another, tossing that one too. “I am not jealous.”
“You’re jealous,” he grins with too much realization. “You don’t like other women touching me. You don’t like other women over here.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I deny him because it’s the only defense I have. I continue to pick up my clothes off the floor that he manages to somehow scatter across the room as he threw my bag. “I’m not jealous.”
“No? Then you wouldn’t care if I called her to take her up on her offer for a good time? Maybe I’ll fuck her right on my desk, Rosie. I’ll tug those little scrub bottoms down and enjoy when she moans as I slide into her.”
I don’t know what gets into me. I lose my mind. I’m so full of rage at the thought, I see white, not red, as if I’m blinded. For the second time, I slap him across the face. The skin on my palm burns and instant regret sets in my gut. His cheek turns a light shade of pink, but he doesn’t seem bothered. If anything, he seems pleased.
I swallow my negative feelings and tears drop to my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He rubs his cheek. “I find comfort in your touch whether it stings or not.”
“I won’t do it again,” I promise. “The thought of you with her like that, hearing those words from you, imagining her getting what she wants, it makes me crazy. You make me crazy. I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you for that because no one makes me crazy like you do.”
“Just admit it, Rosie. You care about me. You’re jealous of the nurse. All you have to do is admit it and we can move on with your punishment.”
I’m halfway bent over to pick up another shirt. “Punishment?”
“I said if you were to slap me again, I’d bend you over my lap.”
I snort in disbelief. “You aren’t spanking me.”
“Try me,” he growls low and deep.
“If I admit I’m jealous and I care, can you not spank me?”
“I’ll take it under consideration.”
I exhale, letting go of my pride and toss the clothes I have in my arms on the floor. “I care, okay? I’m jealous. I’m so jealous, I can’t stand the thought of another woman touching you. I hated that nurse for putting her hands on you, even if some of her touch was for medical purposes. I saw how she looked at you, as she flirted. She made it known she wanted you and it made me angry. I don’t know how to do those things. I am not a flirt. I don’t know how to tell you I want you and that I want to give this a real shot. I’ve never been in a relationship before, and even though this one started with demands which is a little fucked up, it’s the only source of a relationship I have to go on to learn. My parents aren’t good examples. They hate each other and they are only together because they have spent so many years together. So this is all new to me. I’m learning. And I don’t like this nurse because she’s someone you can easily have when I’m nothing but complicated.”
He stands there, staring at me without saying a word.
Seconds turn to minutes, and I shuffle on my feet, needing to do something. I don’t like making myself feel vulnerable. I have only been able to count on myself for being strong and being strong for everyone else. Feeling weak isn’t an option.
Who am I kidding? Weak is all I am when Ari is around. He makes my defenses crumble.
“You need me,” he says with slight realization.
“I do not need you.” I almost sound offended. “I’d be just fine on my own. I’m going to take that diamond, sell it, make money, buy my own identity, and live a life of luxury. I can do all of that without you. I don’t need you,” I reiterate.
The wide dimension of his hand wraps around my throat while I’m picking up the last of my clothes and he forces me to straighten. Heat and anger swirl in his eyes, but the hand around my neck, while firm, is gentle.
“Admit you need me,” he demands, the look of desperation for the truth maddening his eyes. “Admit it.”
“No.”
I gasp when he yanks me to him, his lips so close to mine, I can feel the softness of them brushing against my own.
