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He shows me the large master bedroom. There’s only one piece of furniture: a large, four-poster bed, already with crisp dark sheets. There’s a big closet, an updated bathroom, and a lovely bay window overlooking the street.
“We sleep here,” he says, gesturing to the bed. “Which side do you prefer?”
“That’s it? You’re just going to grunt it at me like a caveman? I could always take a different room, you know.”
“No, you can’t. Don’t forget our contract.”
“Did you really put in language about what bed I’d sleep in?”
“Absolutely. Yes.”
“Great. You’re a dream.” I walk to the window and look out. Down below, people walk past, going about their lives, unaware of the enormous change happening inside of me. “It’s weird being in here, you know.”
“How’s that?”
“Portland’s my city. I grew up in this place. My father’s business is here, my life used to be here. But now it’s like I’m an invading stranger.”
“I’m the stranger. You’re the local. That’s why I married you.”
I resist the urge to tell him off, which is a first. I must be growing. “You know what I’m saying.”
“You’re concerned,” he says, the understatement of a century. “This is difficult for you.”
“Are you doing your robot thing again?”
His eyes narrow. “I’m trying to empathize.”
“You’re terrible at it.”
“Don’t be difficult for no reason. I’ll drag you over here, lay you across my knee—”
“And what?” I say, glaring now. “You’re going to spank me?”
“Damn right I am.” He slowly stands up.
I back away, heart racing. Based on the look he’s giving me, I’m pretty sure he’ll do it.
And the sick part? I might actually want him to.
“Let’s skip the corporal punishment,” I say quickly, turning away to look out the window again. I really need to get myself together. If I’m going to freak every time he says something vaguely menacing and sexual, I’m going to be on edge a whole lot. “What do we do now that we’re back?”
“First, we need to meet with your father and find out where he stands.”
I let out a sharp, surprised laugh. “We both know where that is. He stands with a bunch of thugs that tried to murder us.”
“That was a day ago. Things change. I’ve already learned that there’s tension between your father and Rustik.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
“I haven’t been sitting around biding my time. I built a network.”
“A network.” I press my forehead against the glass. It’s cold and smooth. “Great. A network.”
“This is going to work, princess, but we have to act fast.”
“I don’t want to see my father.”
“Too damn bad. I’ve already set the meeting for later today.”
I whirl on him. “Without asking me?”
“I knew you’d react like this.” His face shows me nothing. The man can really shut it down when he wants to, which is beyond infuriating.
I advance on him. “I’m not going.”
“You absolutely are.”
“No, Liam. You’re not springing big meetings with my own damn family on me out of the blue without discussing things first. We’re partners in this.”
“Actually, that’s where you’re wrong.” He meets me halfway, grabbing me roughly by the lower back as he pulls me into him. I release a surprised whimper. I expected him to keep his distance, but instead, he’s grabbing onto me like he’s about to do something very filthy. Like follow through with that spanking threat.
“Is that how this is going to go? You do whatever you want and I’m expected to follow along? I thought you were offering me revenge. Not letting me watch while you took care of everything.”
He makes a small noise in the back of his throat as his thumb brushes down my cheek. “Tell me something, and please, be honest. If I had Rustik here in this room down on his knees, and I gave you a gun, would you be able to pull the trigger? Could you take the man’s life?”
I try to squirm away, but he doesn’t release me. “That’s a stupid scenario.”
“That’s what we’re doing.” His voice hardens. “I’m not putting you in that position, princess. I’m taking the burden away. I’m the trigger and the gun. All you have to do is help point me in the right direction.”
I stop fighting and look into his face. I think there’s a glimmer of something beneath the mask, a painful emotion, like a tension’s underpinning everything. I cock my head, trying to find another glimpse, but he’s under control a second later, and I’m not sure if there was ever something at all.
“All right,” I say after a tense moment.
“All right, what?”
“We’ll meet with my father.”
He releases me. “That was never in question.”
“Prick.” I put space between us. “I need things. Clothes, toiletries, that stuff.”
“Make a list. I’ll pass it along to my people.”
“You keep mentioning people, a network, whatever. Where was all that when we ran from the wedding?”
