Page 30 of Covenant

He grins at me, and I see Matthias’s lips tremble across the table. I hope they fall off. I hope he wakes up and they’re no longer on his face. Damn man, always smirking like he’s making fun of me.

Well, he can fuck off.

I watch Jules and the other man leave, and I’m left alone with him once more.

I stare at the date and then purse my lips. I could let it go to waste, but my stomach rumbles and I know I have to eat. I can’t just wither away to nothing. Jackson needs me.

He needs me to survive this.

It’s the only reason I’m able to bring this food to my lips and take a bite, knowing that Matthias is watching me intently the entire time. Flavor explodes on my tongue and I swallow a moan. Fuck, this is good. I get why he hired Jules.

“Have more,” Matthias says, and that just makes me not want to, but my hand reaches for them nonetheless, putting two more on my plate. Matthias pushes his chair back and stalks toward me, filling his own plate and making his way back to the opposite end of the table. He takes small dainty bites as his eyes flick up to meet mine.

“What do you think? Or do you suddenly hate cheese now too?”

My jaw works back and forth as I put more of the date into my mouth, not responding. Asshole.

Jules reappears, setting down my drink and a bowl of French onion soup before me, and my stomach rumbles in excitement. I haven’t had food like this in ages. Not that I show it to Matthias. I just school my face as I take a sip, trying to play it cool.

The rest of dinner proceeds the same way.

Salad, main course, and dessert. I eat more in one meal than in the previous week combined.

By the time dinner is over, I’m stuffed, my head swimming slightly from the two drinks I consumed. I couldn’t afford alcohol when everything went to shit, so my tolerance for it has dissipated.

“Seems you enjoyed dinner,” Matthias says from across the table.

I try not to lick the plate that’s before me. Whatever dessert that was, it was to die for. I feel slightly nauseated as my stomach tries to adjust to the sheer amount of food. “It was passable.”

Matthias lounges back in his chair, his smirk reappearing like he sees my bullshit and enjoys it. “I’ll make sure you’re fed like this every day.”

“Great,” I say sarcastically. “You better have a gym then.”

His smirk deepens. “You didn’t find it in your wanderings earlier? I thought you explored everywhere. Everywhere except where I was, obviously.”

My fingers dig into the table as I fight my temper. Has the fucker been watching me?

I raise my chin, refusing to let him get the upper hand. “Actually, I think I’ll get a membership somewhere else. Assuming I’m allowed to leave the house, that is.”

“You’re not a prisoner, Wy,” he drawls, getting to his feet. His back is to me as he pours a glass of whiskey. I hear the ice clink in the glass and I’m tempted to ask for one. But my still-swimming head suggests that’s not a good idea. “You’re free to come and go as much as you choose. You can even come back to work at Lawson and Buckingham if you want.”

I ignore the casual invitation, as though he wasn’t behind my firing in the first place. Like fuck am I going back there as his husband.

I know what they’ll assume—that I earned the job on my knees. Fuck that.

I direct my ire in another direction. “So long as I come back at the end of the night.”

It’s not a question.

“Yes.” Matthias’s eyes are dark as he turns to face me, leaning back against the sideboard. “Like I said before, you’re to share a bed with me. That requires you to be here to sleep. And, in case you need a reminder, this will be a monogamous marriage.”

I hate the amusement in his eyes, the fact that he knows that it bothers me to share a bed with him. He’s playing with me, and here I am, dancing to his tune.

Well, two can play at this game.

Getting to my feet, I stretch, noting how Matthias’s eyes linger on the sliver of skin revealed at the bottom of my shirt.

Not attracted to me, my ass.

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