Page 106 of Fire and Silk
He scratches the back of his neck.
“What’s wrong with you?”
I stare at the ceiling.
“What’s it like to be in love?”
He stops halfway to the dresser. Turns.
“You serious?”
I don’t answer.
He walks to the other side of the bed, pulls the sheets back, and climbs in with a grunt.
“It’s past my work hours,” he mutters. “I really can’t deal with this.”
He rolls over, back to me.
Within seconds, his breathing evens out.
I stare at the wall.
Then I lift one foot and kick the side of his leg.
Nothing.
Another kick. Still nothing.
“Useless,” I mutter.
I shift, turn toward the other side, and exhale into the dark.
Chapter Seventeen – Lira
Dantès Estate, Private Wing
The door closes behind him.
For a few seconds, I just stand there, hands at my sides, bare feet on cold marble, the robe slipping off one shoulder. The light from the wall lamp stretches across the room in a dull strip. His footsteps fade down the hallway. Then nothing.
I want to follow him. My heel shifts half an inch in that direction. But I stop.
The mirror across the room catches my reflection. I turn toward it slowly. My hair is pulled loose, hanging over one shoulder. My mouth is still parted. My chest still rising fast.
I stare.
It would be foolish—dangerous—to fall for a man who made it clear what he needed me for. His eyes are honest when he talks about strategy. About use. I’ve heard it too many times now.
I look down at my hand.
The ring catches the light.
It’s heavy. Smooth. Beautiful. It fits like it belongs.
I like being his wife.
No—I lovebeing his wife. The power it offers. The way it changes how people see me. How they listen. How they wait when I speak.
