Page 48 of Exposing Adonis

“Don’t move yet,” I whispered into her hair, and she relented. Her obedience made my head spin. “Good girl.”

Controlling a woman like Lea Bonifacio was different. It wasn’t like managing Pippa. There was no transaction. A ring for a marriage, a vacation for a bit of compliance, a residence in Monaco, for the chance at a family.

Lea obeyed because she wanted to. It was always her choice. Her fingers crawled up my chest, tracing the edges of the bandage on my torso and shoulder.

“Do you think it will cover my scar?” she whispered, tracing where she had left a scalpel in my shoulder.

“Worried about that, are you?” I chuckled into her hair. “You want to keep your mark on me?”

“I’d hate to have to stab you again to do it.” I felt the curve of her cheek against my chest. She was smiling. The little minx.

“If you like,” I told her, running my hand through her hair. “I won’t complain.”

“You pervert.” She let out a contented sigh. “Is that what you’re into? Getting stabbed? Knife and blood play?”

“If stabbing is your thing, we can work it out.” It wasn’t my thing, but what’s a little injury to satisfy a goddess?

“So unsanitary.” Her head tilted back and she looked at my face. “And unsafe.”

“Being with you is unsafe.” I was stating the obvious. But I welcomed the vexation and danger she’d bring to my life.

“That is true.” She waited a beat before squirming in my arms. “I need to give you your watch back.”

“No,” I said. “Keep it.”

“But it’s yours,” she protested, her hand coming to her bicep to pull it off of her arm. She took my hand, wrapped the gadget around my wrist and clasped it. “It’s important to you. You never take it off so …”

“You’ve been observing me, darling?” I smiled, enjoying her attention. “I’ll have it adjusted so it’ll fit you. I like you having something of mine. To go withyourscar on my skin. Or are you willing to tattoo my name on you?”

“Just cut me and call it good.” My hand drifted down the curve of her back, and she adjusted, tucking her legs up on the bed. With a flick of her wrist, her butterfly knife sliced through the air, landing blade out in her palm. She offered it to me. “Here.”

“No.” I said, holding her hand in mine, the blade glinting in the sun. “Hurting you isn’t something I’m into. No one is allowed to harm what’s mine. Not even me.”

“So possessive.” She flipped her wrist and the blade closed.

“I am,” I admitted. To her and to myself.

I don’t know if Pippa had been faithful to me throughout our engagement. I didn’t really care. Though, I had been celibate because of lack of opportunity, and no will to do otherwise. But the idea of someone touching Lea made me see red.

I wanted to possess this woman. I wanted her in my hands, day and night.

I turned to my side so I could spoon her close to me, the white blanket keeping us a hair’s breadth apart. “I could put a ring on you.”

“Jesus! That’s the Vicodin talking.” She laughed it off, but I could taste the bitterness in her voice.

“Don’t get miffed.” I curled my hand over her hips, teasing it at the bottom hem of her shirt. “I’m being serious.”

Serious enough to have had a ring made. But she didn’t need to know that. She didn’t need to know that I had plunged headfirst into all of this. Irresponsible, maybe. Hopeful, definitely. But I would make her mine. I’d lie, cheat, and kill to do it.

“No, you’re not. And you’ll forget all about it when you’re not high on drugs.” The corner of her lip rose.

“I’ve never been more clear-headed in my life.” My finger moved under her shirt, to the skin underneath, right above the button of her jeans. She drew in a small gasp.

“You were engaged just a few weeks ago. I’m not Juliet, and you’re not Romeo.” Her voice was even, but I saw her close her eyes, concentrating hard.

“And Pippa is no Rosaline.” I regretted the moment I said her name. Lea tensed at my words. I had misstepped, but I wouldn’t stop to correct it. “If I gave you a ring, would you wear it?”

“I’m not marrying you, Callum.” She was so determined. So sure. Yet, so wrong.

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