Page 17 of Remorseless Sinner

To my surprise, he had a very comfortable car waiting for us. It almost looked like some kind of limousine, with a uniformed driver.

Now, where had he gotten this kind of money? When I knew him, he never had any money. He used to work at the gas station and as a janitor to contribute to household expenses in high school.

And he hadn't had any money. Where had he gotten all the money for this limo?

What had he been doing since getting out of jail?

Saul opened the door.

“After you, Mrs. Brennan,” he rumbled.

I could barely look at him after what I had done on his boot.

Surely it wasn’t right to have squirted so lavishly all over his feet.

But now I was trapped.

In those seven years he had been gone I should have found someone else to marry! But it hadn’t happened.

I was very unlucky in love.

Not even one single kiss. No second date.

I wished I hadn’t waited.

I wished I’d hadoneboyfriend.

Just to prove that it wasn’t true. Hedidn’town me.

But somehow it had never worked out.

Every first date went nowhere. Guys who seemed eager, excited for a second date, inevitably ghosted me or sent me hasty, abrupt messages that they weren’t interested.

I didn’t understand it.

Modesty and humility were important, but I wasn’thideouslooking.

As I slid onto the slick seats and the driver took off, I was panting, gripping the seatbelt with white-knuckled hands.

Saul fished in a side pocket and handed me an ice-cold bottle of water.

“Drink this. You need to hydrate.”

“You're kidnapping me, and you’re worried about my water consumption?” I asked, somewhat hysterically.

“I didn’t kidnap you,” he said, his dark brows drawing together as he held out the bottle. “I married you. And if you don’t drink that, I’ll tan your ass.”

Surely he wouldn’t dare! But I didn’t like the look in his eyes, the way he was at the other end of the seat watching me, the way there was a slick, wicked liquid on my thighs.

So I quickly took a gulp or two of the water.

“Again,” Saul said.

“You can’t—you can’t control how much water I drink,” I countered, teetering on the edge between tears and screams, the tear tracks from this afternoon stuck to my cheeks.

Saul watched me with those greedy domineering dark eyes.

“I can,” he said. “I can control everything about you now. Everything about your body. And I want to see that perfect belly swelling up big for me.”

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