Page 24 of Grimm

“You lied to me in the library.”

“No. You asked if I had finished unpacking. And I said yes. Because I had finished.” More semantics. Maybe she should have considered becoming a lawyer instead of a first-grade teacher.

“Where did I tell you to put your things?” he asked, softening to the beauty before him.

“I just explained—”

“Where, Daniella?”

She blinked hard. “In your room.” Her shoulders rolled back, and she raised her chin a fraction. She wouldn’t be backing down.

“And where are they?” he asked in a low voice. She should have run, sensing danger, but she remained planted.

“Right here in this room. My room.”

His jaw clicked.

“This isn’t your room. This isn’t anyone’s room. Your room is in my room.”

Her brow furrowed.

“You know what I mean,” he said, rubbing his forehead.

“Look. William, having me in here doesn’t change any of your rules. I’m still your little whore who has to bend to your will whenever you choose. I’m not running away; I’m not trying to escape you. I’m only trying to have one thing, one tiny thing that doesn’t remind me of everything I’ve lost.” Her hands fisted at her sides, and the flame in her eyes burned brighter.

He was on her within a step, his hand clenching her face and tilting it back until he glared down into her eyes. “Never call yourself that again,” he ordered between clenched teeth.

“What?” she asked, still without fear in her voice.

“You’re not my whore,” he ground out.

She stared up at him, uncertainty filling her gaze.

He let her go and took half a step back. “You’re not anyone’s whore,” he said with finality.

“But I’ll never be anyone’s anything so long as I’m here being your… whatever you want to call me.” Sadness touched her words.

The anger in his chest dissipated. She had lost. She spent her entire life losing. Her mother, then her father, then every shred of hope that anyone would want her past a probationary period. As an adult, she had the chance to change that. But then she lost her only friend and now her freedom.

“You want your own room?” he asked with a steady tone.

She squared off with him. “I think it’s best. No crossed messages this way.”

He smiled. “Mixed messages you mean?”

She frowned. “Yes, that.”

“Fine.” He put his hands up in front of him. “You can have your own room, but you sleep in my bed until I say otherwise. I don’t want to have to come knocking on the door every fucking night.”

She stared at him, like she was thinking over what he’d said. Like she even had a choice.

“Okay. For now, we can do that,” she said firmly.

“Hmm, it sounds to me you’ve forgotten who allows and who doesn’t allow things around here?” He dropped his chin and moved toward her.

She took an immediate step back. “No. No. I remember just fine.” She whipped her hands behind her back to protect her delectable ass.

He grinned. “Just checking. I’m going to change my shirt, then we’re leaving.” He looked her over again. “Are you sure you’re a first-grade teacher? Because I don’t remember any of my teachers looking like you do.”

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