Page 101 of Silenced

Then, he shuffles me over to the empty walk-in closet.

Only… it’s not empty anymore.

I blink at how full it is, not just of his stuff but things that are very feminine—for me?

Before I can even ask what the hell’s going on, I’m in front of a mirror and he’s signing, “You need to see what I see.”

His hips rock into me, letting me feel his erection.

I hate that that gives me the confidence to peek at myself in the mirror.

What I see is…

Startling.

In a good way.

The maxi dress is floaty and bohemian with a floral print on the cotton voile. The bodice is ruched, making my wonky boobs look phenomenal, and the slim straps with the sweetheart neckline only enhance them. It tumbles into a tiered, ruffled skirt. It could make me seem frou-frou, but no, it’s elegant yet pretty informal too.

“I’d never in a million years have picked this,” I whisper, more to myself than to him.

His hands settle on my hips as he draws me deeper into his hold—there’s no evading his erection.

Not that I want to.

God strike me down for that admission.

I’m disappointed when he lets go of me to sign, “You’re so fucking beautiful that I’m reconsidering letting you go outside.”

Knowing he’s capable of that, my eyes flare wide as I twist in his hold, grab his lapels, and, squeezing, declare, “You can’t renege!”

“I can’t,” he agrees, his expression more grumpy than annoyed.

Resigned.

I’m okay with that and it has me beaming a smile at him.

He turns me back around then trails a hand over my chest. The move is possessive and I like that too.

Jeez.

With that one finger causing havoc, I can feel my breath turning shaky as he draws those nerve endings to life.

Then, he pulls back and I let him until he signs, “I’m a jealous man,solnyshko.I am not, however, Harvey Rundel. I won’t hurt you. I will never bruise this beautiful skin…” He pauses to cup my cheek. “…but I will kill anyone who touches you. Do you understand?”

With a marriage like mine, his words are a total red flag.

So why does my heart flutter?

Why do they make me feel cherished?

I lean into him, wanting to maintain contact between us before I tell him, “Harvey used to time me going to the store.”

“I have staff for that.”

That has me huffing. “I didn’t mean that.” I have no idea why I do it, but I flick his nose in annoyance. Both of us stare at one another in bewilderment, his eyes silently saying, ‘Did she just do that?’ where I’m thinking, ‘Did I just freakin’ do that?’

I choke out, “Sorry.”

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