Page 51 of Lord of Debauchery

“Did he ever figure out who was threatening him?”

“No, but the threats stopped coming and eventually, life went back to our normal, which is something I’m certain you couldn’t understand. I imagine your parents treated you like the little princess you are.” He pinched my nose, trying to be cute.

For some crazy reason, his actions and his story brought back too many memories. “Hardly. My father had no time for his baby daughter, preferring his firstborn son instead. How very sad for you.”

“It’s all I knew. Don’t get me wrong. My family was a loving entity, almost like one big, happy Greek family.” He stopped long enough to laugh. “My mom nagged me and my brothers every day about having a brood of grandchildren. I’m positive my Pops would love that as well, even doting on them. It’s funny how they haven’t bugged my sister yet.”

“When he couldn’t with his own son.”

“Nope. But you learn to live with what you’re born into.” He cocked his head, his eyes flicking in a different way, the light dimming to a dull roar of emotion. As he stroked my face, I felt his sense of loss. He obviously respected his family, but he also missed not being allowed to enjoy his childhood. Was it so entirely different from mine?

“I know but that doesn’t make it easy. My mother tried to make up for all the missed birthdays and holidays, my father too busy to engage in such frivolous activities. She tried her best, even lying that Daddy had gone out Christmas shopping more than once, but I knew better. She couldn’t lie to me. It didn’t help that my brother enjoyed taunting me with the truth, laughing when I got upset.”

“Shitty two men.” His growl was full of anger, which made me open my eyes wide.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t mold my life around the two most shallow men on this earth.”

“Good because I might need to kill them. Maybe you should tell me all about the Markham men.”

How could I possibly tell him both had barely pronounceable names and that I’d been living under an assumed name for a very long time? I cupped his face, trying to push us both off the subject. “They don’t matter any longer. Life is solely what you make of it. Don’t you agree?”

Beckham narrowed his eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing you likely haven’t heard or experienced in your life before. When powerful men think they can rule the world, they tend to lose themselves in self accolades.”

“Ouch,” he huffed and sat up on the bed. “I guess I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Yes, you should.” I watched as he crawled off the bed, grabbing his clothes. I’d never thought I’d see the man in jeans. It was a refreshing and gorgeous look on him.

After he slipped into his clothes, he adjusted the pillow on my bed, even pulling back the covers. “Crawl underneath.” His command was like it had been before when he’d first entered the room. Not to be taken lightly.

I did as he asked, the girl inside of me wanting to tell him I’d been good as gold so I could leave this place. But the woman who would forever remain hardheaded could never do such a thing. I slid underneath, watching his constantly changing expression as he placed the covers directly under my chin.

“Sleep tight.” He snagged the implement of pain before walking toward the door.

“How long are you going to keep me in here?”

“As long as it takes for you to realize the danger is real. Whether or not you find it difficult to believe I wasn’t killed during the four attacks, that doesn’t take away from the reality these people are highly dangerous. Maybe you were hoping I was killed. Eh?” He cocked his head over his shoulder. There was zero amusement on his face, no twinkle in his eyes, the man just returning to the darkness I’d seen far too often.

“No, Beckham. Contrary to what you might think, I don’t wish many people dead. Maybe with the exception of my father.” I had no business spouting off at the mouth, but it was too late to take it back.

He studied me intently, taking in the comment. “I’ll throw a question back at you. Who are you really, Kenya Markham?”

“You know exactly who I am. I’m a girl who owns a bed and breakfast. I’m a girl who prefers spending time alone. And I’m that same girl you didn’t mind kidnapping after playing the hero a couple of times.”

I did so love it when he let loose with his laughs, the boisterous sound as sensual as the man. “Yes, but there is so much more to you. To use your word, complex. You have a knowledge about my life that could be considered… unnerving.” It was as if he’d needed to choose his words wisely. Or maybe accurately.

“I’m nothing special, Beckham. I assure you of that. But I don’t take being pushed into things sitting down. Just so you know.”

“I will keep that tidbit in the back of my mind. But you need to keep something in mind as well, my sweet and beautiful little fighter. I value truth and loyalty more than anything, no matter what you might think. If I allow anyone in my employ to get by with breaking my trust, my reputation and that of my entire family and corporation will be soiled. I’ve learned over the years to react and ask questions later. That’s kept me alive and living in the lavish manner you mentioned.”

“What are you trying to say?”

He studied me for a few additional awkward seconds. “I’m simply saying, my beautiful possession, that if you want to stay in my good graces, you will need to do two things. One. Follow my rules implicitly. Two and equally important, you’ll need to be painfully honest with me at all times.”

“And if I don’t?”

He grinned but it was an entirely different look. “Then you won’t like me very much and I’d hate that. For both of us.”

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