Page 44 of Absolution
I wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. “Let’s not talk about Billy. I want to celebrate.”
The grim expression finally melts from his handsome features, and his eyes glimmer with almost feral anticipation.
“How shall we celebrate, my queen? I have a few ideas.”
I lick my lips, catching onto his carnal mood. “Like what?”
He tips his head in the direction of the back room. “We could find out how soundproof the office is.”
My cheeks heat even as my core flutters. “Dane!” I scold. “I don’t want to scandalize the neighboring businesses on my first day in the building.”
His grin is wolfish. “Then you’ll have to be very quiet, pet. I’m sure I can figure out a way to gag you if you’ll be more comfortable that way.”
I scoff. “That’s not helping.”
“On the contrary,” he teases. “If you don’t want to bother your neighbors, I think a gag will be very helpful. Your panties will do nicely. Are they already wet for me?”
“Dane!”
“Abigail.”
I release a huff of exasperation, but I’m not really annoyed. Lust pulses through my veins, and I can’t deny the arousal that’s gathering between my thighs in response to his crass suggestions.
A bell rings, shattering the intimate moment. We both look toward the glass door in confusion. No one should be interested in entering an empty shop on a Saturday morning.
My stomach drops to the floor.
My mother strides into my new gallery like she owns the place, my father trailing after her with a bored expression on his weathered face. And—oh, god—even Uncle Jeffrey is with them.
Dane angles his powerful body in front of mine, instantly protective in the face of my relatives.
I gather my courage and step up beside him. I can’t cower behind my husband.
“What are you doing here?” My voice is clear and calm, and Dane threads his fingers through mine in a show of solidarity and pride.
His support bolsters me like nothing else. I’m able to square my shoulders and meet my mother’s ice blue gaze without flinching.
Her Botox-frozen features give nothing away, her expression unnervingly enigmatic. But her voice is all honeyed warmth when she says, “We came to see your gallery, darling.”
Confusion knits my brow. “How did you even know I’d be here?”
Her affable smile doesn’t reach her sharp, calculating eyes. “A member of my bridge club owns this building. She was so excited to tell me that you’ve rented the space for your little art project.”
Dane tenses beside me, and I quickly place a restraining hand on his corded forearm.
“We just had to come see it for ourselves,” she continues. “It’s been ages since Meadows’ wedding, and we barely had a chance to speak to you before you two ran off.” She makes a sound like a conspiratorial giggle, but it’s too sharp to be genial. “You’d think we scared you away.”
“I took Abigail home,” Dane says, ice cold. He’s not bothering to put on a show for my family. “We found the company distasteful, and I didn’t feel like putting up with the farce any longer.”
Mama draws back slightly in the face of his emotionless, clinical stare. Even my spine tingles with unease at the primal recognition of a predator at my side.
I edge closer to my dark protector.
“Now, wait just a minute,” my dad blusters. “You can’t speak to my wife like that.”
“You are not welcome here,” Dane says, each word a sharp, icy dagger. “Leave.”
“Oh my gosh, Abby!” Mama says, as though she hasn’t heard a word he’s said. “What is that ring on your finger? Surely, you didn’t elope without telling your mother.”
