Page 31 of Forbidden Mistress

Only You

Hart reaches down and brushes his thumb across my bottom lip, watching me closely, like he’s trying to decide how to answer. “While we’re together,” he says in that thick British accent, “it will only be you.”

I think about that qualifier…while we’re together. That sounds suspiciously temporary. But what can I really expect—a lifelong commitment? Just that thought is ridiculous. I don’t even really know him, and he’s only here for three months, anyway. But, I might as well enjoy him while I have him. I’ll just have to be careful and guard my emotions.

And on that note, I’d better not lie here too long, lest I get too cozy.

Untangling myself from him, I slide off the bed. “Do you mind if I use your shower?”

“Be my guest,” he says easily.

A bit self-consciously, I tiptoe across the marble floor to the bathroom on the far side of the room. I can feel him staring at my ass the entire way, and I get a little thrill from it. Obviously, he likes what he sees, or he wouldn’t have jumped me like a horny stag.

Once inside the bathroom, I pull the door closed. It’s huge actually. As large as the living room at Hill House. It has a shower, a separate tub, two vanities, all straight, harsh lines in a sleek modern style. There are plush towels, washcloths, robes, shampoos, soaps…anything you could possibly want. It’s like a mini spa in here.

Glancing at the shower, I decide that I’d rather have a relaxing soak in the bath, so I turn the water on and sink into the pristine marble tub before it’s even full. Removing my mask, I set it aside and sink back against the cold stone as the warm water surrounds me. My eyes drift closed. I imagine Hart has already dressed and headed out—maybe to go talk to Willow, who looked upset when she left. It means I get the suite to myself for a while.

I’m half-dozing when the water turns off abruptly. My eyes fly open, and I see Hart standing above me, a wry smile on his face beneath the bottom edge of his mask. “You could have drowned.”

I blink up at him. “Were you worried about me?”

He’s dimmed the lights in here while my eyes were close, but I can still see well enough and I definitely like what I see. He’s still completely naked, and my eyes wander over him, intricate tattoo and all. How can someone be so beautiful? It’s almost painful to look at him.

He chuckles, the sound coming from deep inside his chest. “I’m always worried about you.”

I sit up a little and grab a washcloth and bar of soap that are laid out on the bamboo caddy straddling the end of the tub.

“Allow me.” He takes both from my hands and dips them into the water, then begins lathering the washcloth.

With a smile, I lie back, watching him intently. “You can take your mask off,” I say playfully. “It’s just you and me now.”

His mouth thins. “No. That’s one rule I won’t break.” He sets down the soap and brushes the foamy washcloth across my breasts. My nipples are so sensitive, I suck in a little breath when the soft cloth makes contact. I’m still flush with my afterglow, but his touch is threatening to rekindle that fire inside me again.

I laugh a little to release the sudden tension. “But I’ve already seen you without it. Yesterday in your office.” I reach over to pull the mask off his face, but he grabs my wrist, stopping me.

“I said no,” he barks sternly. His tone is infused with anger, and that fact—the fact that he’s angry with me—makes my heart stutter to a halt.

He releases my wrist, and my mood sobers. I let my hand drop. “Why? What’s the big deal?”

“Because that’s what it means for you to be here. You obey me.”

I blink, jaw slack with shock. I was literally staring at his unmasked face this afternoon in his office. We had a whole conversation and everything. He asked me out for a date this weekend, even. I don’t understand what the issue is.

“Lucien…” I begin in a pleading tone.

He visibly stiffens, drawing back. “Don’t call me that,” he grinds out between clenched teeth. Then he rises to his feet and flicks the water off his hand. He turns to pull a towel off a nearby table and wraps it around his waist. While I’m sitting there, completely baffled, he walks to the door, turning just as he’s about to walk out of the room. “I’ll let Andrew know you’re ready to return home. He’ll be waiting out front. Don’t linger.”

And with that, he’s gone. And I’m left speechless.

“When I said his name, he was genuinely upset,” I say to Haley. We’re sitting at the kitchen table, eating cheap Chinese food straight out of the little white boxes with our wooden chopsticks. I gesture with mine. “Visibly angry, even.”

Haley gathers a heap of chow mein and shoves it into her mouth. “That’s so fucking weird,” she says between bites. “Maybe it’s an Obscura thing? Like, taking off the mask, saying his name…those things would take him out of the fantasy?”

I tilt my head, considering. “Okay, then why not just say that? Why get all pissy with me?”

Haley shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe he feels like you should know that?” She throws up her hands before I can snap back at that. “I’m just throwing out theories.”

I lean back in my chair and shake my head. “Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe that is what it is—he doesn’t want to shatter the fantasy. What else could it be?”

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