Page 66 of The Devil's Pawn

“Not hungry.”

“Okay, well, I’ll leave it here for when you are.” I set it back on the bedside table and get to my feet.

“Being nice doesn’t suit you.”

I tip my head to one side. “Is that so? Would you rather I tell you you’re treading a thin line? That I’m not a man you want to push? That it’s advisable for you to consider any future actions and what the consequence may be carefully before acting upon them?”

“Fuck you.”

A faint smile tugs at my lips. She’s back. “My feisty Little Pawn.” I tuck her hair behind her ear.

She jerks away from my touch. “Get your hands off me.”

“Now, now, Mrs. De Vil. No need for tantrums.” As I say her name out loud, the need to possess her blooms in mychest, the intensity of feeling beaten only when I call hermy wife.It’s ridiculous considering every action I undertake is with a single goal in mind: to rid myself of her and this ill-fated union before my father begins to ask where all the babies are.

“Stuff your stupid name where the sun doesn’t shine.”

My breath catches in my throat. This is it. Thirty-two days since we met, twenty-eight since we married, and she’s giving in. The hollowness in my chest is more than disappointment at how easy it’s been to force her hand, but I’m nowhere near ready to study it further. All I know is it doesn’t feel good.

“Are you asking me for a divorce?”

She pauses, her eyes lifting up and to the left. It’s as if I’m watching the cogs turn in her brain, and I’m fascinated by it. I’m fascinated by her.

“It wouldn’t be a divorce.”

“No?”

“We haven’t done it, so it’d be an annulment.”

I smirk at her use of such innocent language. “Fine. Are you asking me for an annulment?”

“If I was, what would you say?”

Oh, no, Little Pawn. You don’t get off that easy. “Ask me, and you’ll find out.”

The tension crackles between us, two adversaries, both intent on gaining the upper hand. Nicholas doesn’t know what he’s missing out on by marrying Elizabeth. Sparring with Imogen gets my dick harder than by my own hand or any other beautiful woman’s pussy.

She lets a few seconds pass, her gaze belligerent as it drills into me. Eventually, her shoulders bow. “No.”

I wait for disappointment to descend on me. Instead, mychest floods with relief. I don’t get it. Why would she want to stay married to me after all the battles we’ve fought? Perhaps she likes the sparring as much as I do. Whatever her reasons, I’m going to have to double my efforts. The panic room was a great idea, and it’s definitely pushed her closer, but not close enough. My next move has to wound her so deeply, she’ll give me what I want.

“I’ll leave you to rest, then.”

“Just so you know,” she says, as I step away from the bed, “I’m changing my name back to Salinger.”

I pivot, my eyes wide. “I beg your pardon?”

“You can beg all you like. I’m done with being a De Vil. The name doesn’t align with my personal values. From now on, it’ll be Imogen Salinger. I’ll file the paperwork on Monday to make it official.”

Oh, no, you don’t. “You willnot.”

“Oh, yeah?” She climbs off the bed and stands directly in front of me, her hands planted on her hips. “Try stop me.”

“You aremy wife,” I seethe. “And you will take my name.” She starts to speak, but I cut her off, raising my palm in the air. “If I were you, I’d thinkcarefullyabout the next words that come out of your mouth, because my patience is on its last thread, and trust me, you donotwant to see what happens when that thread snaps.”

That threat must do the trick, because she clamps her mouth shut. I glower at her for a few seconds, almost wishing she would defy me again. I’d enjoy punishing her. I’d relish the opportunity to bend her over my lap and spank the correct etiquette into her.

“Eat your food,” I snap, stomping across the room. I’ve half a mind to lock her in for the night, but given the mood she’s in, I wouldn’t put it past her to trash the room.

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