Page 115 of Sinful Palace

“Would you ever….” I faltered and looked down at the floor.

“Would I what?”

“Would you ever let me go back to my normal life?” I asked, looking at him again. “Now that you know I didn’t purposely hurt Chloe, and you don’t have any real reason to hurt me or keep me locked up whenever you aren’t around.”

“I can’t let you go now,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You know that.”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes. Of course. I don’t even know why I brought it up.”

As he tightened his possessive grip around my waist, it seemed clearer than ever that he had no intention of letting me leave him. I was delusional for thinking that he might do it just to let me find my way back to him.

If I didn’t let Jamie help me, I would never taste freedom again.

I glanced around the room. He was standing by a dessert table, chatting to the Secretary of State.

“I might have an éclair,” I said, turning back to Logan. “They look delicious, don’t they?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Should you really have one of those?”

“What?”

He chuckled. “I’m not saying you can’t, but you said you didn’t feel well earlier. Eating something rich and creamy probably won’t help with that.”

I forced a smile. “I feel better now. I think it was just a hormonal thing. My period is due soon, so that would explain it.”

“Ah.” Logan nodded. “Well, I’ll go and get you an éclair, then. One or two?”

“It’s fine, I’ll get it. I want to say hello to Secretary Janssen anyway,” I said. “Do you want one?”

“No, I’m good.”

I nodded and stepped away, making a beeline for the dessert table. I grabbed an embossed napkin and leaned down to pick up an éclair from the silver tray in front of me. Jamie was standing on the opposite side of the table, deep in conversation with Secretary Janssen.

When he saw me out of the corner of his eye, he excused himself and turned toward me. I dipped my head in a brief nod and then took a bite of my dessert in case Logan was watching us.

Jamie reached into his pocket and fumbled around for a few seconds. “I’ve turned the scrambler on again,” he finally said. “I assume you want to talk about Logan?”

I flashed him a dazzling smile and held up my éclair, pretending we were simply chatting about the quality of the party food. “Yes. You were right,” I said. “He’s never going to let me go.”

He nodded. “I thought as much,” he said softly, reaching over to grab a lemon tartlet. “So what do you want to do about it?”

I leaned forward and gritted my teeth. “I want to go,” I said. “Tonight.”

---