Page 38 of Red

“You got it.” Nico disappeared from behind him. He didn’t need to turn around to see him go. When he gave an order, it was followed. Except by Melinda.

“I think you forget what happens to little Red when she confronts the big bad wolf.” He lowered his head, bringing his eyes level with hers. “He ate her up.”

“Erik—”

“It was a simple thing—go upstairs.”

Her eyes widened, her lips parted, but no sound escaped. She froze beneath his glare.

“I’m—” She bent forward, lowering her gaze from his.

“Go upstairs, Melinda. I’m not saying it again.” His hand went to the buckle of his belt.

Her gaze flicked to the threat—no, the promise, of punishment if she decided to keep fighting him.

“Good night, then.” She backed her way to the stairs, only turning around once her foot hit the first step. He watched her climb to the second floor, her coat and dress flapping around her legs.

“Well, that was a quite a show,” Ian muttered from the office doorway.

“Glad you enjoyed it.” Erik shook out of his coat. “Too bad you won’t get to see the encore.” Erik tossed the coat onto an empty chair and stalked up the stairs.

Chapter 13

Melinda washed the last traces of cosmetics from her face. Erik had sent out for all fresh makeup for her to use for their evening out.

She grunted. Evening out. Like it had been a date or something as ridiculous. She couldn’t even picture Erik on an actual date. Opening doors, paying the check—sure, but giving a woman the option of telling him no? Making small talk without giving orders? It didn’t fit him.

The door to the bedroom opened and closed. Her muscles clenched as she waited for the booming demand for her to present herself.

Erik popped up in the bathroom door, his inquisitive stare settled on her. She glanced at him in the mirror and grabbed the towel, wiping the last of the water from her chin.

“You don’t need all that paint.” He pointed to the pile of mascara and eyeliner mixed in with eyeshadows—most of which she wouldn’t use with or without his comment.

“Did you rush up here to make good on your threat?” she asked, too tired to keep up the anger she’d let out downstairs. He had been right; it was an easy request. He wanted a moment to talk to his brother, and she’d acted like a brat.

“Do you want me to?” he asked, tucking his hands into his pants pockets. His posture rounded out when he stood so casual, making him look less menacing. Which was dangerous. Taking her eye off what he really was could break her.

“What?” She leaned a hip against the counter.

“Do you want me to take you over my knee and spank you?” If he hadn’t said it with so much damn silk in his tone, she may have played it off with a laugh.

But he worsened it by stepping into the bathroom. The dark glare she’d grown accustomed to washed away beneath the bright lights.

“Melinda. I won’t repeat myself.” A warning lingered between them. Did she want him to?

Her fingers fluttered at her sides, and she twisted around to accommodate his presence. Her ass pressed against the edge of the counter.

“I was out of line down there, and I’m sorry.” She raised her chin. It was the best she could do with him looking down at her with such expectation. Did he want her to beg him not to spank her, or did he want her to plead for him to touch her? If he got much closer, she’d probably do both.

“You were.” He brushed her hair over her shoulder. “You’ve had a rough week.”

“Week?” She huffed. “It hasn’t even been that long.” Her world had been turned upside down and spun around so much she wasn’t sure exactly what day it was.

“No, it hasn’t. Once we’re married, it will get easier.” He touched her chin. “Between us, too.”

“So, there’s no chance of a quick divorce after you get your inheritance?”

He pushed her chin up, lining her mouth up with his. “Now, why would I want to let you go?” He brushed his lips across hers. Her heart fluttered with the brief touch, trying to fly off with the butterflies living in her stomach no doubt.

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