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Adam takes my cold hands in his once again, and this time, his smile has a wicked edge to it. "So, my father doesn't know you're already mine. How interesting."
I snatch my hand away. "I'm not yours!"
The confidence in his voice flusters me. He snatches my hand right back. "I disagree."
Feeling a childish annoyance, I scowl. "I belong to me, not you."
"That you do," Adam agrees before lifting my hand to his lips, his light gray eyes piercing into me, an animalistic hunger in them, "but you're also mine, Cynthia. You wear my marks all over your body."
My face burns at his words as I recall the way he bit down on nearly every inch of my body. "Tha-That's not something you should say out loud!"
"Then how should I say it?" Adam teases me, grinning.
He's enjoying my discomfort, and I don't know what to do with myself. I give him a tight-lipped look. "That night is never happening again."
His grin broadens. "Well, at least you acknowledged that it did happen."
I close my eyes briefly in a bid for patience. There is no winning with this man.
When I open my eyes, he's no longer smiling. "I don't care what my father has planned, Cynthia. But I want you here, by my side. And keeping you here is the best way to show you why you should choose. Whatever your loyalty is to my father, it should pale before our own fated mate bond and what's best for the pack.
I look at him, wishing my tongue wasn't in knots. Finally, I manage, "I wish it was that simple."
He's silent for a moment. "But you won't tell me."
I know what he's referring to, and my heart tightens in my chest as if something is clamping around it in a painful grip, and I breathe, "No."
When he moves, I flinch, and he raises his brows. I can see the tension in his jaws before he carefully says, "I'm not my father or Norman. I will never raise my voice at you, Cynthia, or my hand. You can keep your secrets until you're ready to share them."
He gets to his feet and holds out his hand. "Come on."
"Where?" I look at him, wary.
"To do some shopping and get you some proper clothes," Adam says patiently. "I'm not going to have people gawking at my woman."
I take his hand without thinking, muttering, "I just told you, I'm not yours."
"Of course, you're not." Adam puts his hand on my lower back, guiding me out the door.
I don't know why I'm letting him buy me the clothes. Perhaps it's because I don't have anything worth wearing anymore. Jonathon's men took away everything I owned, and the only money I have on me is what I've hidden away.
I see a few eyes on me as we leave the building. Most of the gazes are curious, and some of them are not so friendly. I catch a few women shooting me hostile looks, their eyes drifting toward Adam and the casual way his hand is on my back. I've got enough going on in my life to start wondering what their problem is. However, since I'll be working here now, I don't want to create enemies before I've even started.
"Can you get your hand off my back?" I try after unsuccessfully trying to move away from him.
"Is it bothering you?" Adam gives me an innocent look.
"Yes!"
He shrugs. "Too bad."
I glower at this man. Everything slides off him like butter!
"People are staring at us," I hiss.
"Oh, are they?" He looks over his shoulder before looking down at me, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Do you want to give them a real reason to stare?"
For a moment, I don't understand, and then I see the way his eyes have drifted to my lips. My insides tighten in painful need and I grit out, "No, thank you."
