Page 72 of Power and Possession

It was a stark realization.

“There’s some ibuprofen on the nightstand. I’ll go get you some water.”

My gaze followed his frame around the dark room, drinking in the shape of his body. He was still as fit as ever, from his muscular chest down to his ass. His shoulders were rounded and all the corded muscles I liked so much were still there. I was glad for the darkness in the room; every time I saw his scars, either the ones he grew up with or the ones caused by my father, I felt sick inside.

I lay on my back, trying to make sense of my own complicated feelings. Did I want this? Did I want to be with Steele again?

He came back into the room with a glass of water and a bottle of scotch. He set the glass down on the nightstand for me and then unscrewed the lid on the scotch.

“Daniel.”

He stopped immediately at my use of his first name, and he looked at me.

“No more drinking. At least not before evening.”

I could see his struggle, his desire for booze. But his eagerness to please me was greater, and he replaced the lid on the bottle and left it on his nightstand.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, rubbing a thumb across the stubble on his chin. “I won’t drink as long as you’re beside me.”

“Fine,” I said, grabbing the glass of water and quickly swallowing the ibuprofen.

“I have one more condition.”

“What’s that?”

“As soon as your hangover is better, I get to make love to you. All damn day and all damn night. I want you until every man who came before me is lost to you, the ghost of theirmemories eradicated from your mind. I want you until you can’t possibly imagine another man between your thighs. I want you until there’s absolutely nothing left to take. I want you until every fiber of your being is mine and mine alone.”

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry despite the water. Somehow, it seemed like I was getting the better end of the deal.

Steele picked up takeout and practically force-fed me a cheeseburger. It was absolute heaven— draped on the couch, watching TV and eating. My legs were on Steele’s lap, and he’d been rubbing my feet off and on for the last hour. I was slowly starting to feel better, both physically and emotionally.

I wasn’t sure how or when it happened, but I was in love with Steele. I tried to think back, wondering how long I’d felt that way. I had been attracted to him almost instantly, but my feelings had been slow to develop. Maybe it was the night he cared for me after I was attacked by Lord Stanley, or perhaps when he confided in me about his mother. There was also the possibility that I’d been slowly falling in love with him since day one, and specific moments had just added to the little bit I felt for him. When he'd squeezed my hand during the opera, I’d felt a surge of affection. Little by little, without my knowing it, he’d etched out a place in my heart and filled it completely.

Now I had to tell him. I was more scared of telling him than I was when he first took me hostage.

“Steele?”

“Yes, my love?” He turned his face away from the TV to listen to whatever I was going to say.

“I—”

His phone rang, ruining the moment. He looked at the caller and then his eyes bulged and his pupils constricted.

Something was wrong.

Deathly wrong.

He answered the call quickly, putting his hand up to quickly silence me.

“Steele.”

I could hear the male’s voice on the other line. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but I knew the tone. It was a voice I’d recognize anywhere.

My father’s.

A cold sweat moved down my entire body, and a sense of overwhelming foreboding ran down my spine.

Horror crossed Steele’s expression, and my foreboding went to overwhelming panic. The longer the call stretched on, and the more clenched Steele’s jaw got, the more trouble I knew we were in. I thought my father would leave Steele alone, figuring that he and Steele were now equal.

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