Page 32 of Savage Union
"Or I put you there myself." My voice drops lower. "And I assure you, you won't like the method."
For a moment, I think she'll continue fighting. Then her shoulders slump slightly—not in defeat, but in tactical retreat. She sidesteps me and moves to the bed, sliding under the covers with as much dignity as she can muster. She stays perched on the edge, as far from the center as possible.
I circle back to my side and join her, the mattress dipping slightly under my weight. She immediately tenses, every muscle rigid as if preparing to flee.
"I won't touch you," I tell her, keeping my voice neutral. "Not unless you give me reason to."
"How reassuring," she mutters, still facing away from me.
"It should be." I settle against my pillows. "Sleep, Caterina. Tomorrow will be a long day."
"What's happening tomorrow?"
"Wedding preparations begin. The Commission expects results."
She sits up abruptly, turning to face me with fresh outrage. "You can't be serious."
"Entirely serious." I observe her carefully, noting the way the silk strap of her nightgown has slipped off one shoulder. "Three weeks until the ceremony. Arrangements must be made."
"I haven't agreed to any of this!"
"Your agreement isn't required."
"I won't do it." She scrambles to the edge of the bed as if to leave. "You can't force me to say vows."
My patience snaps. I move with the speed that has kept me alive in a world of predators, catching her before she can escape. In one fluid motion, I pin her beneath me, my weight carefully distributed to immobilize without harming.
"This is my domain," I say, voice deadly quiet. "My home. My bed. My rules. And I will not tolerate further disobedience."
Her eyes are wide, her breath coming in quick gasps that press her chest against mine with each inhale. The thin silk between us does nothing to mask the heat of her body, the racing of her heart.
"You will be my wife," I continue, holding her gaze. "You will play your role. And you will do so without these constant, pointless rebellions."
"Or what?" she whispers, the challenge in her voice undercut by its breathless quality.
"Or I'll give you something real to rebel against." I shift my hips deliberately, letting her feel the evidence of how this confrontation is affecting me physically. "Go to sleep, or I'll fuck you to sleep right here."
The crude language is calculated, designed to shock. Her pupils dilate, a flush spreading across her cheeks and down her neck to disappear beneath the neckline of her gown. Fear, yes—but not only fear. There's something else there, something that mirrors the heat building in my own blood.
For a moment, we remain locked together, breath mingling, bodies pressed tight in a parody of passion that feelsdangerously close to the real thing. Then I roll off her in one smooth movement, turning onto my side away from her.
"Your choice," I say, voice deliberately dispassionate. "As always."
The silence stretches between us, broken only by the sound of her rapid breathing gradually slowing. The mattress shifts as she settles back into place, keeping to her edge of the bed. I don't turn to look at her. Don't acknowledge the tension still crackling in the air between us.
Minutes pass. Her breathing eventually evens out, suggesting sleep or a convincing pretense of it. Only then do I allow myself to relax marginally, though sleep remains distant.
This arrangement is proving more complicated than anticipated. Having her in my space, in my bed, wearing silk I selected—it creates a dangerous intimacy I hadn't fully calculated. The way her body responded to mine, the flash of heat in her eyes that wasn't entirely fear...
These are variables I hadn't adequately factored into my equations. Dangerous variables.
But then, danger has always been my natural habitat. If desire becomes another weapon in this battle between us, so be it. I've never lost a war yet.
And I don't intend to start with Caterina Gallo.
CHAPTER 10
Rina
