Page 68 of Sinning for Santa

“Why are you like this?” I mutter and he shrugs.

“Because I am. Take it or leave it, little mouse.”

“Fine,” I huff, taking a moment to narrow down the hundreds of questions I have to just five.

“Take your time.” He rises off the coffee table he was perched on, to sit next to me on the sofa, hooking one foot up to rest on his knee as he relaxes back into the cushion.

He reminds me of a king, sitting lazily on his throne.

I guess he is king of this Palace.

“So I ask five questions and you’ll choose one of them to answer truthfully?”

“Yes, little mouse. Correct.”

“Okay then. Why is the main population women?” I ask as my first question, watching his expression which doesn’t change, so I ask my next. “Why don’t you let people practise religion publicly?”

His brows shoot up at that question, and I feel victorious for some strange reason. He didn’t know I knew that.

“Are all the women your wives?”

This time, his lips spread wide with that stupid shit-eating grin again.

Ugh. I want to slap him.

“Is Marilda’s little boy your son?”

Againhis brows shoot high. “You’ve been busy today haven’t you, little mouse. Snooping around and asking questions.”

I shrug, like it’s no big deal and ask my next question.

“Do women throw themselves over the cliff because they can’t stand to be your sex slave?”

This question makes him angry, his brows tugging in as he glares and stands from the sofa and starts pacing.

“All your questions are about my town. Don’t you want to know why you’re here?”

“Well, der.” I scoff, immaturely, rolling my eyes until his hard gaze snaps to mine and I stiffen. “I’ve asked that before and you refuse to answer so I figured it would be a waste of a question.”

“You’re right. It would have been.”

Ugh. He’s unbearable. He starts pacing again, obviously trying to figure out which question to answer, before he responds.

“Religion has a history of creating unnecessary tension. This is a small community, and we don’t need different religious beliefs dividing the town, or turning this place into a cultish religious faction.”

Of course he chose the religious question to answer. As if he’d give me the truth about the women.

Dammit. I should have thought of something else to ask. Like why does he have teenagers as his slaves as well.

“I’d like to retract that question and ask another.”

His feet halt as he stops pacing, his gaze shooting to me as he chuckles. “Not a fucking chance in hell.”

I roll my eyes.

As if he’d be reasonable.

“Fine,” I huff. “Why do you oppose the religious thing so much if you yourself are religious?”

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