by Lynda Chance
Looking at the broad-shouldered man through the corner of her eye and trying to control her heart rate, she asked, “Has he done anything illegal?”
“Not that I know of, but that doesn’t make his actions moral, either. And there’s no damn way your meeting was accidental—I want you home, now.”
“I can’t come home right now, Damian. I married the man. Do you expect me to abandon this marriage without even giving it a chance?”
“Hell yes, I do,” her brother snarled.
“Well, I’m going to stay here—at least for a while,” she maintained.
“Erin—”
“No. Look, I’ve listened to you, and I hear you, I really do. Maybe you’re right—but maybe you’re wrong. Maybe it’s what I thought it was the first time I saw him, you know?”
“And what was that?” Damian asked in a disgusted tone.
Why did she have to say these things with Max looking on? “Electric, you know?” Hating that she was forced to say that in front of Max and hating him for invading her privacy, she turned and glared at him, and then stuck her middle finger in the air for good measure before she glanced away and continued to soothe her brother. “It’s how you and Angie are when you’re together. Maybe Max knew who I was—but maybe he didn’t care. Maybe he’s holding a grudge against you as you say, but maybe he decided not to let it get in the way of how he feels about me?” If only that were true. If only this thing between them was about her … maybe she wouldn’t be feeling the jabs of hurt that she’d been feeling since waking up on Max’s private jet and finding out the truth.
“Are you talking about sex, Erin? How naïve are you?!” her brother exploded.
Refusing to answer that question, she asked one of her own, still trying to calm him down. “Tell me something, Damian. All this bad stuff you know about Max, do you know anything good?”
“Good? The guy’s not good—”
“You said that he was a good businessman,” she said neutrally.
Her brother let out a resigned sign. “Yeah—he’s made a lot of money, I’ll give him that. He’s self-made, if that means anything to you.”
“Have you met him?” she asked, really wanting to know the information.
“No, but Garrett has.”
“And?”
Her brother snorted. “And? He doesn’t trust him. He’s going to go ballistic when he finds out about this, Erin. “
Erin sighed. Like Damian wasn’t going ballistic? This wasn’t getting her anywhere. “Look, I’m not ready to give up on this and come home—”
“Then I’m coming there—”
“No! I already told you no. All three of you guys need to stay away for a while. If there’s bad blood, how can that help my marriage?” She heard her brother make a growling noise under his breath so she was quick to try to appease him. “How about a compromise? Let me have a few weeks for a honeymoon, then you can send Mom. You’re always trying to get her out of your hair anyway, and she likes to travel.”
He ignored her suggestion as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’m coming to get you—”
“Damian! Quit acting as if you can control me! I’m not a child—I have a husband! And whether you like him or not, he’s not going to sit on his ass and let you waltz off with me!”
Erin heard no answer to that, only pissed off breathing, so she offered again. “Look, send Mom if you want.”
“She won’t come alone, you figured that out already, right?”
Not entirely understanding, Erin said, “She’s never been afraid to travel by herself.”
Her brother made an annoyed sound and then said, “No, but that goddamned Rick isn’t going to let her leave the country by herself, I guarantee you that.”
Sudden understanding went off like a light when she thought of her mother’s new boyfriend. Boy being the operative word. In his early fifties, there wasn’t anything boyish left about Rick Harris, and the last few months he’d been pacing a circle around Erin’s mom as if he had a new plaything that he wasn’t about to share. Erin appreciated Rick, she liked him, but her brother was right—there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell her mother would be making a trip to Argentina alone. “Rick can come—I like him.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds as if Damian were thinking things through, and then he suddenly agreed—and more amicably than Erin had expected. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll let them know, but I promise you, Erin, when they get back, if there’s a bad report, you’re coming home, whether you want to or not.”
“We’ll see,” she said.
“Take care,” her brother responded.
“I will, you too. Love you,” she replied.
“Love you too, kiddo. I’m a phone call away if anything goes south … don’t hesitate.”
“I won’t.” As Erin ended the call, she tossed the phone down in frustration and turned her undivided attention to Max. “What do you want?” She asked belligerently, too pissed to stay focused on her ultimate plan of winning.
His muscles steeled; his eyes narrowed as he stood to his full height, coming off the door. “What do I want?” he asked way too politely, faking a confusion she damn well knew he wasn’t feeling.
She remained silent and slowly, he began walking toward where she sat on the bed. “I didn’t know I needed a reason to be in here.” He leaned nonchalantly on the poster of the bed as he stared down at her. “It’s my suite, love.”
Her temper soared while a trickle of unease clawed through her system at the way he was watching her. “Fair enough—where shall I put my things?”
“Your things will remain here, as you damn well know.”
She jumped from the center of the bed and, uncaring of her lack of grace, landed on her feet on the opposite side from him. “That’s not fair.”
His jaw flexed as he swiveled to face her. “We are married, therefore, we sleep together.”
“But I need some privacy!”
He began tracking her across the carpeted room. “We’re not going to have separate sleeping quarters. Think again.”
Erin found herself biting her lip in frustration. It wasn’t fair. He had his own office to retreat to, a door that closed and even locked if he felt the need. All she wanted was a space, even a small space would do, somewhere she could lick her wounds, knowing she wouldn’t be interrupted. “You have an office. I’d like my own space—” suddenly realizing how important this was, she bit her lip and amended, “Please.”
“Certainly, love. That’s a fair request. You can have a room of your own—just not a bedroom.” He held out his hand and waited while she stared at him suspiciously. He remained silent, only lifting a single brow while he waited for her to join him. Tentatively, she placed her palm in his. As soon as her hand was in his, his fingers tightened alarmingly. “But first there’s the matter of the obscene gesture you made.”
Erin ignored the apprehension that made her skin prickle, and rebelliously, lifted her free hand and raised her middle finger in the air again. “Oh, you mean this?”
In a lightning-fast move, he closed her hand into a fist, and holding both hands captive, he began walking her backward until her butt touched the edge of the bed. Her breathing quickened, she felt a shameful heat flush over her face as she lifted her chin and stared unblinkingly into his eyes, waiting for his next move.
His hips came forcefully against hers as he thrust a knee between her thighs. Captive, her thoughts scattered as she felt the evidence of his desire pressed against her.
His lips flattened as his eyes impaled hers. “There’s something you need to understand. Coming from you, I can take the gesture one of two ways—as either an insult or an invitation. Would you like to clarify how you meant it, darling?”
Erin’s mind began racing. An invitation? No way. An insult? Her breathing snagged; she didn’t want to know what the ramifications of insulting him would be—especially not this close to finding herself flat on her back. If he wa
s being honest, that he wouldn’t hurt her … her heart began beating triple time when she realized abruptly how this situation would manifest itself. She didn’t think she was ready for that yet. She needed to get out of the situation she’d created, so she dropped her eyes and asked softly, demurely. “Can I get a pass, please? Just this once?”
He waited the count of five beats before answering. “Certainly, love. You weren’t aware of the rules before—but now you are. So just to be clear,” his hand slid down and encompassed her breast, squeezing possessively, threateningly. “I want you to feel free to shoot me the finger in the future—as long as you realize that you’re either insulting me or inviting me, yes? And that my reactions will be reflective of your meaning.”
She took a deep breath, attempting to ignore the stroke of heat his touch was inducing. “Yeah, okay.”
His eyes narrowed, his hands releasing her as if making a decision. “Come.”
She trailed behind him as he led her back down the stairs and showed her into a room with a flourish of his hand, motioning her inside a small sitting room adjacent to the library and then standing back quietly as if awaiting her inspection.
At his silence, she asked, “Are you giving this room to me?”
“Yes, of course, if it suits you.”
It was a room that was beautifully and tastefully appointed, but it had no door, only a large open threshold separating it from the hallway. Erin walked more fully inside and continued to look around. Even though it didn’t have a door and wasn’t what she was hoping for, she wasn’t going to turn his offer down … maybe there was something here that she could work with.
“What are my other choices?” For some reason, she knew it was best not to complain of the lack of a door—she knew exactly what his reaction would be if he knew she wanted to lock him out.
“The atrium.”
Erin dismissed that idea abruptly. The room was too large and held too many windows. She wouldn’t find the privacy she sought there. “This will do.” She glanced around at the two loveseats that formed an L. “May I consider this mine, then? May I move the furniture around and such?”
“You may consider it yours. However, I don’t want you moving anything heavy—get the servants to help you.”
“But everything looks lightweight in here—I can move it myself.”
An arrow of impatience shining in his eyes, he began pacing over to where she stood. Facing her, he sank his hand into her hair and stared down into her eyes, holding her captive. “We’ve been through this already this morning, Erin. I make the rules—you obey them. You won’t move the furniture by yourself—you’ll hurt yourself. You’re not strong enough.”
“Well, I may be smaller than you, but I’m certainly not weak,” she refuted. “You don’t even know me,” she muttered.
His hand tightened in her scalp, pulling her forward until her hips met the steel of his thighs. “I know you’re my wife—that’s all I need to know. And if I tell you not to move the furniture, you won’t move the furniture.”
How could she live under his rule when she’d been living independently since the day she’d left for college? How could she live under his every dictate? Even her chest-beating, cavemen-like brothers didn’t dare say crap that would knowingly piss her off. Feeling the need to protest, her lips opened with what, in retrospect, was obviously the wrong challenge. “I can make my own decisions. I can decide what I’m capable of.”
His mouth clenched in lines of aggravated tension. “I don’t think you’re fully grasping your situation—or your future.” A dangerous aura lit his features as she felt his muscles tense before he continued, “Let me explain more fully. The wedding ceremony that you willingly took part in made you mine. You live where I live—you sleep in my bed.” His fingers tightened in her scalp. “You’ll follow my orders in all things—and this is the way it will be for the rest of your life. Do you understand?”
She ignored the warning voice that whispered in her head to stay quiet, but she managed to control her voice to project only a mildly aggrieved tone. “I don’t like that idea, Max—I’m not used to it. What if your orders are wrong?”
“Wrong?” He looked momentarily mystified. “I’m not known to make mistakes. Understand what I’m saying, Erin. You will take direction from me and you’ll be happy here. In fact, before this is over, you’ll be begging to stay with me. Anything less is unacceptable.”
Abruptly, Erin gulped down a quivering breath at the thought of giving her life up to a man intent on his own way. She needed to know the truth so damn bad it was killing her. She took a breath and said, “It’s not fair that you won’t tell me what you have on my brothers.”
“Life’s not always fair, even though you’ve probably never been introduced to that simple truth until now.”
He didn’t know everything about her. “No? My father died when I was eighteen. How’s that for not fair?”
“Yes. We all lose those we love eventually. Death is part of life and, unfortunately, you learned that early. But, otherwise, you’ve been sheltered your entire life. Your brothers took care of you. Everyone has always taken care of you. They put you through college—you didn’t even have to wait tables for spending money as so many young people do. Your family even devised a job for you after graduation so you wouldn’t be burdened looking for work.”
She lifted her chin in a combative gesture. Asshole. How the hell did he know everything about her? He would have to pick on the one thing that made her feel inferior. She’d never felt as if she were standing on her own two feet, and by the looks of it, she wasn’t going to get the chance any time soon. “And now you want to take care of me—you expect to make all my decisions for me.”
“I will take care of you—and we will start with this room. It is yours to do with, as you like. If you want to rearrange the furniture, get someone to help you. If you want to change anything else, all you have to do is speak up. It will be as you wish, Erin.”
“But only to a certain extent.”
“That is undoubtedly correct, but why let it be a point of contention between us?” As he surveyed her, a light of heat appeared in his eyes, as his touch seemed to become both gentle and threatening at the same time. “You need to come to understand the path you set yourself on when you married me. You will sleep in my bed until the day one of us slips away from this earth—and you will be happy with the arrangement. That is the way it will be—I demand it.”
How could he demand she be happy and expect it to be so? She exhaled a shallow pant at his description. “So I guess that’s it.”
“Yes, that’s it.”
His eyes dropped to her lips and Erin felt a moment of pure confusion—how could she want his lips on hers? That was just messed up, right? As she shook her head, trying to clear her scattered thoughts, his hand ran down her arm where his fingers twined with hers. “I need to get back to work—I have a conference call in about fifteen minutes. You can amuse yourself here for a while, yes?”
Amuse herself? “Sure,” she answered halfheartedly.
He studied her for a moment. “If you’re bored you can sit in my office and watch me work,” he said with a wicked smile. “Sit on my lap even, for a front-row view?” His eyes darkened with a teasing, sexual glint.
On his lap? Was he kidding? “N-no. I’ll be fine here.”
His eyes lingered on her, almost regretfully. “I’ll see you at supper, then.”
“Okay.” At her agreement, his eyes fell to her lips as if he were going to kiss her and Erin steeled herself for the hit she was about to take to her equilibrium. But all she felt was a brush of his mouth against her forehead before he turned and left the room.
****
The Rule Tower: The next day
Damian Rule paced across the carpeted expanse of his office while he waited for word from his secretary that his brothers had arrived. There was no fucking way they could figure this shit out over the phone. After his mother’s call the
previous day, he’d been chomping at the bit over the delay—waiting almost a full twenty-four hours for his brothers to arrive back in St. Louis had been about twenty-three hours too long.
Even though he was impatient as hell to move forward with a plan, he wasn’t looking forward to this meeting. He knew his brothers. Nick was going to come unglued when he found out the full story, but Garrett—fuck—Garrett was going to want to commit murder.
His youngest brother already hated Maximo Villarreal with a vengeance that made Damian clench his fists in poorly veiled alarm. He should have listened to his brother. Goddamnit! Why the hell had he continued to brush Garrett’s concerns under the carpet? This was his own fucking fault—and he didn’t know what they were going to do about the situation. Never before had he needed his brothers as he needed them now.
He’d barely been able to stay focused since he’d talked to Erin the previous day. Frankly, he’d been scared shitless for her welfare—and when he’d thought about Angie, he’d broken into a cold sweat. Immediately after he’d spoken to his sister, he’d left the office and driven home, solely to make sure Angie was exactly where she was supposed to be. There was no way he was leaving her alone until he knew exactly what Villarreal was capable of. Even now, she was upstairs in the penthouse—and that was exactly where she’d stay until he had this shit figured out.
After he’d picked Angie up the day before, they’d driven to his mother’s house. It wasn’t just his wife he’d been worried about, he’d been concerned for the safety of his entire family. But when they arrived at the house, Rick Harris had been with his mom. The man had looked him straight in the eye and announced that Damian didn’t need to worry about his mother—and Damian had understood in that moment that Rick wouldn’t let anything happen to her. Under the circumstances, he’d been relieved—but he couldn’t deny that his head began pounding every time he thought of the older man moving in on his widowed mother. But there wasn’t a lot he could do about it, his mother had berated him more than once for crossing the line.
Knowing his mother was at least temporarily safe, his thoughts had moved to Courtney. Truly, she was Nick’s to worry about now, but she’d been part of their family for so long that he was worried, or at least he had been, until he’d found out that she was safely in California with his brother.
