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Veronica’s eyes widened, not ready to believe him. What woman in her right mind would ask to be hurt and mutilated like that? Perhaps Trish had been as insane as Luke. Those two had been made for each other, cut out of the same cloth of crazy.
Luke pulled his gloves off and gripped her chin, forcing her eyes to his. “No, Ronnie. Sheaskedfor the brand. She knew what it meant, what it signified.”
“That she was no better than cattle for you to use or slaughter at your whim?”
The slap across her cheek knocked the wind out of her.
“You’re a monster,” she said, holding a hand to the warm, red mark he’d no doubt just left on her. “I don’t believe anything you have to say.”
“You had that coming. I’m tired of the way you twist things.”
Veronica scrambled back a few feet. He sat in silence for several minutes. Finally he looked over at her. The disgust in his eyes made her recoil worse than the slap had.
“That brand means something to me, to my family. Anything with that brand on it is mine until the day it dies. She wanted to be mine. I know the way you think. You have to understand that, no matter how much you deny it.”
“I’ll never be yours,” she said, her voice laced with contempt.
“Youaremine.”
“No.”
“We’ll see.” He stood and scooped her up, going back to the barn with her kicking and screaming in his arms. Her mind blanked, not allowing her to think about what his intentions surely were.
Two other cows were in a pen, waiting their turn. Robert stood in the middle of the barn. His eyes widened when Luke threw Veronica to the ground.
“I’m going to need you to hold her down.”
She looked up at the other man, pleading in her eyes. Now he’d seen how crazy Luke was, somebody had to help her. “Please, don’t let him do this,” she whimpered.
“You appeal to me, not him, Princess. I’m the one who owns you. Do you see the bigGon the branding iron?”
Robert raised one of the brands out of the heater, and she nearly went mad from panic seeing how bright red the iron was, then he laid it back down in the burner.
She turned to Luke from her sprawled position in the dirt. “P-please, Sir. You can’t do this to me.”
“Can’t? Don’t tell me what Ican’tdo with my property. That won’t play in your favor.”
“I’m sorry.” The tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Are you mine, Ronnie?”
“Y-yes, Sir,” she said, hoping verbal surrender alone would end the frenzy that had started in him again. If he did this to her and she survived it, she’d show the mark to Will and make him feel guilty forever for walking away and leaving her alone with Luke in the kitchen. He could have taken her out of here. Between the mean streets of New York and this, she finally knew which fate was preferable: not this one. Luke was the door with the tiger behind it.
He grabbed the dress and ripped, pulling the fabric apart, leaving her in her underwear. She wasn’t even wearing a bra—the ones in the drawer were so tight she’d finally given up on them. But she was too upset by what was about to happen to her to be concerned with the ranch hand seeing her half naked.
“NO! Please, please. You don’t have to do this.”
“I mark what’s mine. Robert hold her.”
The ranch hand studied her for a minute. “I’m not sure about this, boss.”
Veronica made another attempt to plead her case. “You said Trish asked for the brand. Maybe that’s true, but I’mbeggingyou not to do this. Please, I won’t defy you again. I belong to you, please. I’ll never say I don’t again.” She was babbling, repeating herself, unable to stop the endless litany of pleading. Words that had seemed so hard to say a few days ago spilled from her mouth in a desperate bid for safety and protection.
“I also didn’t kidnap her. Face it, sweetheart, there is a lot about our situation that is different.”
“She’s not Trish,” Robert said.
“I know she’s not Trish! Why does everyone keep saying that? But she may as well be.”
