Page 63 of Ruthless Lord
He stares at me, eyes ringed with lust. Passion burns in his expression. He’s restraining himself with visible effort, his incredible muscles tense as he grips the edge of the chair.
He broke his promise. It was a tiny mistake, just a little normal gesture, but it crossed the line. He touched me and I touched him back.
Not because I want to fuck him.
Even though I really, really do.
But mostly because I want to be close to him. I want him to know that I like this. He and I alone pretending like we really are husband and wife.
It was the kind of kiss I absolutely shouldneverhave with him.
“I shouldn’t,” I say, jumping to my feet. “I mean, I didn’t mean?—”
“You don’t have to run away.”
I stare at him and, god, I wish that were true. “I’m going to sleep. Come up when you’re ready.” I gather up the first aid kit and hurry to the stairs, hating myself for letting emotions cloud my judgment.
I’m still his enemy, and I can’t let anything make me forget it.
Chapter 19
Stefano
Normally, I’m asleep before Charlie even settles down and awake hours before she opens her eyes. Typically, I find her sprawled across the bed, a pillow squeezed between her legs, snoring lightly, mouth hanging open, a little drool stain on the sheets, looking so fucking adorable it takes a lot of willpower not to touch her and fuck her into consciousness. She’s a messy, pretty sleeper, and I like that about her. Like she can finally relax a little when she’s unconscious.
But today, the second I come out of the bathroom, I find her already fumbling around in the predawn darkness looking for clothes to wear.
“What are you doing?” I watch my wife with a deep frown.
She squints back at me. “Getting dressed. What are you doing?”
“Going to work.”
“I was thinking—” She stumbles and nearly goes over as she tugs on a pair of jeans. “You’re away all day and I’m stuck here, bored out of my mind. What if I came with you to the depot?”
I stare at her. She steadies herself and stares back. Her tits are barely covered by a pale white bra, which is extremely goddamn distracting. She notices me looking and quickly turns her back, which is only marginally better. The girl’s got a magnificent back.
“Why would anyonewillinglycome to the depot?”
She shrugs a little as she pulls on a simple black top. “Since our families are going to be working together, I was thinking I could get a feel for your operations.”
“That’s not how our alliance is going to work.”
“Maybe it’s how our marriage is going to work instead?”
“Not happening.” I tug on pants and a Henley, stained and frayed from years of wear, and pull the sleeves over my forearms. She’s staring at my shoulders and licking her lips slightly.
“Definitely happening.”
I shove a gun into my waistband and head downstairs. Charlie follows like a puppy. I do my best to ignore her as I go about my usual routine: banana for breakfast, dark black coffee in a huge travel mug, and a protein shake.
She sticks to coffee, frowning as she watches like a fucking hawk.
“You know breakfast isn’t actually that good for you, right? Primes your metabolism all the wrong ways.”
“I’ve survived this long.”
“But you’re getting older.” She presses her lips together. “And you’re healing.”
