Page 115 of Sinister Intentions

“And why are you hiding it?”

She chuckled. “Have you met my father? He will lose it when he finds out.”

I nodded. If Craig Donnelly was anything like my father, keeping traditions and appearances was right up there, along with loyalty and family. “So will you keep the hair, or is it the plan to grow it back out?”

She narrowed her brows, glared at me, and exhaled. “Why?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “No reason. I just wanted to know if I have to budget for green hair dye in the future. It suits you and your personality…and you don’t need to hide it…from anyone.”

I could feel her stare as if it were a laser beam burning a hole into my head. Was she contemplating if I was telling the truth?

“What about my question? Have you always been a bully, or did you become one over time?”

She was provoking me on purpose, probably in an attempt to make me mad and have a reason to reestablish some boundaries.

She still hadn’t told me what she and Isabella had been talking about, and she clearly wasn’t amused about the marriage I was forcing on her. Not that I would let her do any of it. Keep quietor get under my skin. “I think taking charge is just part of my personality.”

There was some scoffing and snickering in the front, and I kneed the back of the seat. “Shut it, assholes.”

A hint of a smirk played at the corners of Jemma’s lips. “So you’re a born bully, then.”

I gripped the door handle tighter, clenched my jaw, then relaxed and shrugged. Why was I annoyed by her low opinion of me? When I knew it was just her way to create distance? And why did I want her to see me, the real me? “I’m not, but it’s easier if people think you are. They don’t even try to mess with you and your family.”

Hero’s head snapped around, and he stared at me. He probably didn’t expect me to honestly answer the question.

“So it’s your way to protect your siblings?” she said.

“I never said that.”

“Well, that’s what I’m hearing.” She narrowed her eyes. “It fits.”

I shrugged. “Maybe it does. I’m the oldest…it comes with a set of expectations.”

For once, my brothers remained quiet.

“To keep everyone in check, or to keep everyone safe?”

“Both.”

She fell silent again, her gaze fixed on the marriage license.

What was she thinking? That forcing her to marry me was me keeping her in check or me keeping her safe?

By now, it was definitely both. I should probably tell her, voice my feelings, make her understand.

Honesty—wasn’t that what was missing between us?

We stopped at a red light, and I looked at her sideways. Jemma’s question about keeping everyone in check versus keeping everyone safe echoed in my mind. The truth was, it had always been both. Controlling what you could control in your environment had been vitally important to protect my siblings. But lately, with her, it felt different. More urgent. More personal.

A necessity more than a responsibility.

“Why are you so determined to marry me?” she asked quietly without meeting my eyes.

Quiet enough, my brothers probably didn’t catch it.

I glanced at her again, taking in the soft curves of her profile, the determined set of her chin. Even now, defiant and distant, she took my breath away. Just as much as she did sprawled out on the desk in my office or underneath me in the throws of an orgasm.

I needed her by my side, craved her touch, her trust. I’d do whatever it took to make her mine. And marrying her would be the first step, would guarantee she couldn’t run away. “Don’t you think, after the past couple of days, it’s the next logical step?”

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