Page 50 of When Hearts Surrender

My pulse quickens as I lift my head up to look at him. I won’t cower underneath him.

“Our deal is for one year and one heir minimum. I don’t want to have to do a paternity test when you get pregnant.”

My mouth drops open and I reach up to deliver a well-deserving slap.

He catches my hand in mid-air as he leans down, so close I can smell the mint in his breath mixing with the heady sandalwood of his cologne.

My traitorous body heats and my core clenches.

Maxwell’s eyes sweep down my face to my chest and I curse myself for wearing a silk wedding gown, so thin I’m sure he’s seeing my nipples saluting him.

“You’re turned on,” he rasps in my ear.

I shake my head.No, no way.

“So, this is how my wife likes it in the bedroom? To be dominated? Degraded?” Another slivery whisper and my pussy pulses…very much against my wishes.

My lips part as I stare into his dark eyes, his pupils blown. I finally find my voice. “In your dreams, Maxwell.”

He chuckles, his low laughter holding no mirth. “You have no idea how depraved my dreams are.” He leans in, and my eyes flutter shut. I can almost taste him—his passion, his darkness, the addiction that is Maxwell Anderson.

But the kiss never comes.

I open my eyes, finding his irises a chilly shade of gray once more, a pulse threatening to burst from the vein in his forehead.

He whispers in my ear, “Too bad. You’ll never find out what my dreams are about. Because they’llneverbe foryou.”

“You bastard,” I growl.

Spinning around, I take a few steps toward the lobby, eager to escape this domineering, insane man.

He grabs my wrist and whirls me around before letting go.

“I’m not done with you.”

I snap back, “But I am, Maxwell. I. Am. Done. And now, I’m going to the bathroom to get away from myderangedhusband, unless you want to control that behavior too. Now, may I leave your presence,Your fucking Majesty?”

I don’t even feel guilty for cursing at this asshole. This devil in a tux.

He fumes, a muscle pulsing in his jaw as he steps back and mockingly sweeps his hand out and cocks his head. “Anything for my queen.”

He stalks off and I watch him disappear into the crowd. I touch the aching spot on my chest, right under the locket nestled safely under the neckline of my gown.

What did I get myself into?

Chapter 19

The autumn chill whipsup a scattering of brown leaves as I walk up the main stone pathway of the Anderson estate to the grand double doors. I’m no stranger to money as my parents were wealthy before Dad’s investment and embezzlement issues, but the Anderson wealth is on an entirely different level.

The carefully trimmed hedges in the gardens seem right at home, surrounding the only single standing mansion left in Manhattan, where every square foot costs an arm and a leg. We’ve just arrived at the estate after spending our wedding night in two separate suites at The Orchid.

Maxwell ended up drunk by the time the reception was over, surprising everyone because he stayed far longer than the one hour he promised.

I remember how I recoiled when he tossed me a key card to a guest suite.

He stumbled toward me, the stench of whiskey in his breath. His eyes were glazed, but he clearly noticed my reaction to his dismissive behavior.

“What? Does my wife want to consummate our marriage already? Want to start trying for a baby?” he slurred, but his eyes flared at his words, like he wouldn’t mind acting on them.

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