Page 23 of Sweet Nightmares
“No, I am not.” She let out a high, soft, feminine squeak, nothing like her usual sultry tones.
Nightmare winced at the sound. “Sober up now.”
Jane’s eyebrows drew together. One did not just sober up because they wanted to… Except…She was.His words had stolen all the drugs from her system.
How?
She blinked, and she finally—soberly—saw him in all his glory and all his fury.
The excitement and energy left her body, and she returned to her typical self. Rock solid, yet soft. Stable yet broken. Quiet, yet fiery.
“You can just demand things like that without a deal, and it works?”
“With you, I can. You’re my bride.” He said it like it explained everything. It didn’t, but she knew he wouldn’t elaborate.
Jane bit the inside of her cheek and stared into his sapphire-blue eyes. They still twinkled, but with his disgust-laced fury.
“Why were you high?” Nightmare still hadn’t let go of her chin.
Jane inhaled slowly through her nose. She didn’t want to tell him.
Apparently, she didn’t need to. “Because of these bruises?”
Jane gave him a minuscule nod, and his fingers tightened around her chin.
“How did you get them?” he seethed, and the flash of fire in his sapphire eyes caused a shiver to skate up her spine. “You always have so many bruises.”
He had seen them?
Jane’s breasts lifted with her tight, tense breaths. In this, she couldn’t be truthful. She just wouldn’t. Jane wasn’t weak, butthis… It made her feel pathetic. But lying was his line. It was his rule—the only rule he’d given she could freely break.
And to lie to him would break his trust—if he ever found out.
Every muscle in her body tensed, and her heart raged in her ears. So loud she couldn’t hear anything else.
She couldn’t lie to him. It would ruin everything, but she also wouldn’t—she couldn’t tell the truth. Yes, he was a god and could probably fix all her problems. But there was no guarantee that he would and more importantly Jane couldn’t say the truth.
She just couldn’t.
So, she let the lie roll off her tongue. “I got them at dance practice. I fell, and my face hit the bar.”Lie, lie. Lie.She held her breath. Could he see it?
Internally, she winced but tried not to show it on the outside. She’d promised never to lie to him. And she hadn’t really, thus far. He barely asked questions of her, so she barely had to speak about the one thing she’d want to lie about.
The lie must have been believable enough. After all, she was still in her tights and flowing ballerina dress. However, she wasn’t in ballet slippers. She’d worn Mary Janes.
He gritted his teeth. “Then you’re done with dance. I forbid you from doing it again.” His hand dropped from her face, and he turned around and began walking towards dinner.
What?
What?
What had he just said?
When her brain caught up to the words, she let out a wail, and her hands flew up to her mouth, horror twisting in her stomach. “No, you can’t do this, Alexei.”
“I can.” He didn’t even turn around.
“No!” she howled. “Please don’t do this.Please. I beg you. Anything but dance.”
