Page 22 of Pleasure Lessons

“You’re not dreaming, angel.” He smiles, rushing over to me. He kisses me, and it’s like all the light returns to my world. “I knew something was wrong when you didn’t show up last night. I figured they found us out and were holding you.”

“Clarisse,” I hiss, her name like acid on my tongue. “She found out and told Arthur.” I fall into his arms, and he catchesme, standing strong and solid like the very foundations of the earth. “I thought you’d hate me. I thought I’d lost you.”

“Never,” he says, pressing his lips to my forehead. “I could never hate you, Cassandra. You’re mine. And I’m taking you out of herenow.”

I grab my bag, and he slips an arm around me, leading me into the hallway where Arthur’s men lie in a heap, unconscious. We head for the stairwell, but I stop him.

“Wait. My mother’s letters. They’re in Arthur’s study. He took them from me.”

His jaw tightens, and his eyes narrow. “Bastard. Let’s get them. Then we’re out of here.”

Rhett doesn’t even flinch as he steps over the fallen guards. And why would he? He put them there. The way he moves, with the strength of an alpha, has me burning up with desire.

It doesn’t take long for us to reach the study, and of course when we do, Arthur is there. He’s on his cell, sipping a whiskey, and looks up in shock as we enter. He didn’t even hear the chaos upstairs from his protected throne room.

“You!” he spits, rising from his seat. He hangs up quickly and starts to dial 9-1-1. But Rhett lunges forward, snatches the phone from his hand, and smashes it against the ground.

“We’re leaving,” he growls. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

Arthur, shocked, still somehow manages to croak out a defiant laugh. “You think you’re gonna just walk in here and take her? Takewhat’s mine–!?”

Rhett’s fist sends Arthur sprawling. He tumbles backward over his desk and lands in a heap on the floor. My heart swells with a rush of satisfaction. I was not expecting that.

“She’s not yours,” Rhett snarls. “Never was. Never will be.”

“She’s got my ring on her goddamn finger!”

I look down and realize he’s right. I’m still wearing that enormous, gaudy rock. I rip it off my finger and throw it at him. It bounces off his nose and falls to the floor with a defeated clink.

“Not anymore.”

“Are these them?” Rhett asks, scooping my mother’s letters from Arthur’s desk. I nod happily, taking them from him and carefully placing them in my bag.

“Let’s get out of here.” I smile.

Leaving Arthur on the floor, nursing what may be a broken nose, we race out into the corridor, weaving through the servants’ wing toward the back exit. I feel like I’m soaring high above the clouds with nothing but a bright blue sky at my back.

We’re almost out when we round the final corner, but that’s when I see her. Clarisse, standing in front of the door, arms crossed, eyes narrow. She looks at Rhett, and it’s impossible not to notice her clear desire for him. Her eyes turn to me.

“You little brat,” she hisses. “I told Arthur you were nothing but a spoiled, ungrateful–”

I slap her.

Hard.

Her head whips to the side, and she lets out a shocked gasp.

“That’s for betraying me,” I say, my voice trembling. “Girls are supposed to be there for each other, not sell each other out like livestock.”

Clarisse recovers, whips her head back to me, and lunges forward. But Rhett steps between us, glaring down at her with fierce eyes. “Nope. Don’t do that,” he tells her, like a father scolding his child.

She looks past him at me for a moment, contemplating her options. Then snarls and spits at his feet, whirls around, and runs off.

Rhett turns to me and raises his eyebrows. “Nice slap. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

I laugh. “Neither did I.”

We bolt out the door and into the cool evening. The wind blows sharp across our faces as we run, Rhett leading the way. Every muscle in my body is tense. Every step I take is precise. I follow him without hesitation. I don’t know what his plan is, but I trust him.

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