Page 33 of Sunrise Malice

I sit back in my chair, brooding. Brianne really is a beautiful girl. I can’t blame my men for looking at her. And it isn’t like she’s wearing anything provocative or particularly revealing—she just happens to be gorgeous, and every straight man in the room glances in her direction when she walks past.

I like it, but it also drives me crazy. I didn’t think I’d be possessive of a girl I didn’t even want to begin with, but now that she’s mine, I can’t stand the idea of other men desiring her.

Brianne was supposed to be my shield against Grandpère’s arrangement. I know Collette, and I hate that girl with all my heart—the stubborn, snobbish, stuck-up asshole—which is why I figured a stranger would be better.

But now I’m wondering if Brianne was a good choice.

The problem is my wife is too beautiful.

I don’t want to want her. Life would be so much easier if I didn’t have this simmering need to touch her body.

And yet it’s in me, whether I like it or not.

I think of her back at her father’s house kneeling in the bathroom and covered in bruises. That cools some of the simmering lust building in my chest, but replaces it with a protective urge. And makes my heart sink.

There’s a reason she’s got sleeves on. There’s a reason she can’t show off her back or her midsection.

I’m in a foul mood by the time she returns. I finish my wine and gesture for another, and Brianne acts like she doesn’t notice anything as she eats her meal in silence. I let the quiet grow between us, my anger simmering on the edge of rage as I think about her coward father and what he did to her, before I finally speak up.

“We should set expectations.”

Her eyebrows raise. “I’m sorry, what now? I thought we’d finally gotten to the best part of the meal.”

“And what part is that?”

“You know, where you stop bothering me and let me eat.”

I briefly close my eyes. This fucking girl. “We should talk about our marriage. I need to set some ground rules with you before we continue.”

“I don’t really like this whole rules thing.”

“Just listen to me for once.” I say it harder than I mean to and she looks surprised then hurt. I curse myself for having a short temper, but I push on. “When we’re in public, we need to act like we’re married. You don’t have to hang on every word I say, but you can’t outright disrespect me, either.”

“No promises there,” she says through her teeth, clearly annoyed now too.

“Keep it to a minimum at least. Beyond that, you’re free to live your life, only you have to be guarded at all times.”

“Guards?” Her expression softens as she glances at my men sitting at the table near us. “I can’t leave the house without an escort?”

“For your protection. While there’s a war, you’re at risk. Dusan won’t hesitate to use you against me.”

“Right. The war.” She strokes a finger down her glass. “Seems convenient for you, doesn’t it?”

“Not in the slightest,” I say, glaring at her.

“I mean, you like to be controlling, right? This war means you can keep me locked down.”

“That’s not my intention.” I hold up a hand and she holds back from laying into me for once. “I understand you think I’m an asshole. I get that you don’t particularly like me. But this is for your own protection, not for my amusement.”

She lets that sit with her for a moment before reluctantly nodding. “Fine. I understand.”

“Last rule, and most important of all. Stay away from Grandpère and his men. You’ll be safe at my apartment, but there will be social functions and nights when you’ll be expected to attend gatherings at the mansion. No matter what, avoid them. If you can’t, be polite and to the point, and remember that they will use anything you say against me.”

Now she looks thoughtful as she leans back with her glass. She takes a sip and nods, her mouth a gentle form. “You and your grandfather really don’t get along, huh?”

“You met him.” I leave the explanation at that.

“I hear you, and I’ll follow your rules the best I can, but I’m not your captive, and I’m not your toy. Doyouunderstand?”

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