Page 17 of Power and Possession

I bit my lip, changing my mind on the spot and deciding to kill him as soon as humanly possible.

“And finally, you are to touch absolutely nothing in the house. I don’t want you anywhere but the guest room, and the dining room. If you manage to behave yourself, you may have gourmet meals every night with me. If you don’t listen and cause any disturbances to my business or the way I run my home, you’ll be given scraps on a tray in your room. Do I make myself clear?”

“I’d rather eat shit than eat with you.”

This time he bit his lip, and I could see the anger on his face. But there was something else. A spark of fire. A longing to make me obey. The potential solution to all of my problems.

Before I could make another sarcastic comment, his butler brought in two covered plates and placed them in front of each of us. I could smell something rich and inviting underneath it; there was definitely beef, and maybe something starchy, like pasta or potatoes. My mouth watered, and I lifted the lid.

It was a steak with petite baby potatoes, greens and a dinner roll. Hot steam wafted through the air, moistening my face slightly, and I picked up my fork. There was no knife, but I didn’t care. I’d eat it with my hands if I had to. I made a mental note that perhaps dinners with him might not be so bad if this was the prize.

Before I could dig in, the butler headed back towards me, pouring red wine into my wine glass. He glared at me before filling Steele’s glass as well.

“Thank you, Quincy,” Steele said, dismissing him.

I fought the urge to knock over my wine glass just to watch it puddle on the white linens and opulent rug underneath my bare feet. However, my jaw was still sore from where Steele had grabbed me earlier, and I knew that another stunt like that would result in more manhandling. Or…more kissing.

But that was my ultimate goal, wasn’t it? To get him to want me? He seemed to enjoy the way I pushed him and refused him. The way I fought him over everything, never madeanything easy on him.

I made up my mind quickly, acting before I lost my courage. I snatched the wine glass, making a mock toast to him, and looked him dead in the eye, my brows arched towards the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“Don’t youdare—”

The burgundy liquid poured from my glass and then seeped into the rug underneath the table. I watched the red wine spread, the fingers of the liquid greedy as the pool expanded and sunk into the woven fibers. It was an antique rug, and I panicked slightly, worried that I’d gone too far.

Steele was on me in a flash. Chest heaving, eyes flashing in anger, body shaking. Instead of my jaw, he went for my neck, knocking the chair out from under me and then pushing me up against the oak paneled wall. An eternity seemed to pass as he held me there, his breath erratic.

I waited for his response. What would it be? A kiss? Or would he break down and hit me?

His blue eyes met mine, and I felt like he was penetrating my soul, trying to figure out who I was beyond my parentage. Unblinking, he continued his stare, fingers tense around my neck.

I just peered back, unmoving. I felt like a mouse caught in a trap, and my captor would either release me back into the wild or consume me whole.

But then his grip slackened, and his arms dropped, before he swiftly grabbed me by the elbow, pulling me out of the dining room. I trailed along behind him as he half-carried, half-dragged me alongside him.

“Hey! I want my dinner!” I cried, swatting at him as he yanked me up the stairs. He easily overpowered me; one of his hands could encapsulate both of mine.

Steele didn’t answer me, and I was suddenly mad at myself for not eating my dinner before I pulled my stunt. But he was taking me upstairs, towards the bedrooms. My heart thumped nervously, and my mouth went dry as I realized I hadsucceeded. I was about to sleep with my enemy. I’d wanted to seduce him, and it was working.

Which is why I felt like an absolute idiot when he shoved me in the guest room, slammed the door in my face and then locked it behind him.

Chapter Twelve

Steele

I woke up out of a dead sleep, a pounding headache in my temples. I looked around my bedroom, slightly disoriented and a little hungover from the night before. I usually held my liquor better, but I drank more than normal and mixed my alcohol after I’d shoved Ashlynn in the guest room. It took me forever to calm both my anger and my desire.

“Sir?” Quincy’s voice sounded through the door.

I stumbled out of bed, finding my way in the poorly lit room.

“What?” I said, a little too harshly.

“Miss Phillips is—”

“Let me guess, she’s done something else to piss me off?”

“She’s—”

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