Page 52 of The Heir

"What's going on is you belong to me."Turning, I snatch her hard against my side as she blanches and her knees buckle.

"King,stop!"Isobel shouts. Digging her feet in she makes herself dead weight, causing me to turn around and bend my knees, throwing her over my shoulder."Put me down!"

Opening the door, I walk though it then bend again setting her on her feet where she sways for a moment as she attempts to get her bearings. I watch her carefully, seeing the change come over her face. To say it's beautiful is an understatement. Her brows go from being furrowed tightly together to a little looser as her eyes widen.

The tense set of her lips slacken, and her chin tucks in slightly as she pauses, trying to figure it out.

I've placed her in the adjoining room to mine, a room that is entirely her own until she is comfortable with me. The bedroom I painstakingly designed with all the little bits of knowledge about her that I've collected. I've methodically filled it up with every knick-knack and odd and end that she's touched throughout the last nine months.

"I painted it myself," I say quietly, not wanting to break the spell she's seemingly under. This is the quietest I've seen her, aside from the brief sleep we just got.

Looking around the room I try to take it in the way she might.

I had the side wall facing the grounds put in with twelve feet tall-floor to ceiling windows with billowy cream curtains that drag on the floor. I painted it a grey-blue color, almost the same shade shepicked for the picture we drew together weeks ago when we met up at her favorite lunch place.

"I gave you a queen sized bed, because I don't want there to be so much space between us if I'm in here with you," I explain.

Her eyes flit to mine for a second before averting once more, not acknowledging me. I'll allow her the space she needs, and time to think. To process.

Her gaze lands on the bed and stays there.

If she decides to let me in I want to be as close to her as possible. It's plump with a blue feather down comforter, expensive sheets in the same color to match the fireplace, and silk pillowcases for her hair. I personally think it's more comfortable than mine, to be honest.

On either side of the bed are two huge terracotta pots housing fiddle leaf trees that curve to the ceiling and are combined in an arch over the bed. I had to beg Madre for these. As an interior designer, I just knew it would add a touch of ambiance to the space that she'd enjoy.

Ihopeshe'll enjoy, anyways.

I've decided that while our first time was on my terms, I want the second time between us to be her choice. I just hope I can control myself enough to be able to make that a possibility, more than a theory. She continues to walk around slowly, really taking everything in.

There's a little fireplace in the wall opposite the bed that is stone, matching the outside of the house. Her eyes raise and on top of the mantle, the only thing there so far is the napkin of the picture that we drew and colored together framed in a little glass case. She wrings her hands together as she turns to look over the room again.

Ragged breaths catch in her throat, causing arousal to rise up swiftly within me.

"Are you going to lock me in here?" She turns and pins me with a stare. The tears well up in her eyes, causing her irises to waver.

"No, this room is not for me to lock you in," I reply softly.

A tear slips down her cheek and I wish-I wish like hell I could hear her inner thoughts.

Her chin trembles as she turns to look at the wall where I had shelves placed with lighting, and she walks forward slowly to pick up a vase. When she saw this vase at a Harrods, and put it back, I saw pain and sacrifice plain as day on her face. I stood there that day wondering what her story was, because I had gleamed up until that point that she should be making enough money in order to buy it. It was only two thousand dollars. I remember being slightly confused as she walked through the store and didn't let herself have anything unnecessary.

"Hendrix, I don't understand," Isobel states quietly, running her fingers along the blue and white porcelain.

"I bought that for you because the pain that was in your eyes the day you denied buying this for yourself was just simply unacceptable." I walk up slowly behind her.

The sound of my footsteps fade momentarily as I make my way over the lush rug I'd bought her to go with her bed set. It's got swirls of green in it, to go with the fiddle leaf plants. She turns to face me with a gasp, clutching the vase so hard that her knuckles turn white.

"You were following me?"Her hazel eyes flicker between mine, searching, still confused.

Just like she didn't see Christopher was cheating on her, something inside of her isn't letting her acknowledge the truth.

"Yes."

"Everywhere?"

I swallow thickly. "When I could."

"And….and the suit you were wearing to the art show….you knew.Didn't you?" Her eyes narrow as she takes a step towards me, clutching the vase as if it's a lifeline. "You knew the color dress I was going to wear so you lined your jacket and matched yourtie to match me. Why would you do that when you knew I thought I was supposed to be getting engaged?"

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