Page 78 of The Forbidden Trio

The room was flooded with muted sunlight coming through the tops of the tall, arched windows, the lower section being covered in white shades. She turned onto her side and watched him sleeping. His beautiful, angular face was relaxed, his lips slightly parted. Stubble covered his chin and jaw. She wanted to touch it, to touch the tender skin of his closed eyelids.

Her heart surged with emotion. She wished he’d wake up, kiss her, put her mind at ease. Everything felt so important. Too important.

One gorgeously muscular arm was raised over his head, resting on the pillow. On the underside of his arm was a tattoo, a ribbon with a name in calligraphy: Charlotte.

Her pulse ran hot as she bolted upright.

Who was Charlotte? If she was important enough for him to have her name indelibly tattooed on his body, why didn’t she know about her?

Her heart hammering, she got out of bed quietly, and since she couldn’t find her discarded dress, she crept naked to the bathroom, where she splashed her face with water, trying to calm her racing thoughts.

Had she been the other submissive he’d mentioned? The relationship must have been much more serious than he’d suggested if he’d had the woman’s name tattooed on his body. How could she trust him with her submission—with the intense emotions she’d been carrying all these years—if he was keeping an important secret from her? She’d thought Max was the one man on the planet she could truly trust.

She stared into the mirror, pulling her heavy hair back from her face, her heart thundering.

“God, what have I done?”

“Aster?”

She turned to find Max standing in the doorway, wearing a pair of dark blue pajama bottoms.

“Aster?” he repeated. “What’s going on? You okay? Did something happen?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

He took a step closer, then stopped when she backed away. “What are we talking about, exactly?”

“May I please have some clothing before we have this discussion?”

He looked confused, but nodded. “Of course.”

He left the room, returning a few moments later with the pajama top that matched his bottoms. She slid her arms into it and fastened a few buttons.

“Do you want to come sit down?” he asked.

“No. No, I don’t want to sit down.”

“Okay,” he said warily. “Tell me what you need, Aster.”

She crossed her arms over her chest as if that could protect her.

“I need you to tell me who Charlotte is.”

His brows shot up, and there was a haunted look in his eyes. God, itwasone of his exes. How had he kept that from her? Her stomach knotted.

He ran a hand over his hair, then scrubbed at his beard stubble.

“Charlotte.” He blew out a long breath. “Charlotte was my sister.”

“Sister? But… you’re an only child.”

Dread was turning into confusion, making the knot in her stomach pull tighter.

“Yeah, well, that was a lie my father made me tell. He wanted to forget about her, about everything that happened. I don’t even know why I still kept her a secret once I was grown and out of the house. It was habit, maybe. Or…” There was a long pause. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know why,” he said, his tone low.

Shadows flickered in his eyes, and she saw pain there. The knot loosened and was replaced by a churning need todosomething for him. She laid a hand on his arm.

“Tell me, Max,” she said quietly. “Tell me what happened to her.”

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