Page 45 of His to Keep
There are more signs of the man behind the rich and powerful facade. While pricy modern art decorates most of the walls in the main living space, the small den off his bedroom is a different story. This is the room where he kissed me on Friday, I realize as I wander through the space. But it had been too dark—and Luke way too distracting—for me to really take it in then.
Unlike the rest of the house, the furniture here doesn’t look like it belongs in a showroom. The club chair is clearly worn, some of the leather cracking, the coffee table a little battered. The room is filled with bookshelves—not the fancy art books that adorn the shelves and coffee table in the living room. These books run the gamut from tattered paperback spy novels to thick history tombs. Nearly all the volumes look well read. One book—Dune, by Frank Herbert—is sitting on the side table next to the club chair, face down and opened to whatever page he left off on.
Instead of art on the walls, this room features photographs. Dozens of photographs, most of the same people. There are three women featured prominently—three women who all have the same hair and eyes as Luke. His family. I study each one. Luke is in a few, his arms strung casually around the shoulders of the girls. I wonder if they’re his sisters. One is older, her hair graying in a few of the pictures. His mom, maybe?
I remember what he told me about wanting to know everything about me within minutes of getting me into his playroom. I feel the same way right now. I want him to tell me every person featured in one of these photographs. Are the guys smoking cigars friends from college, or childhood? Where was that picture on the beach taken? Who convinced him to don Mickey ears in that picture taken in front of the Disneyland castle?
I curl up in the club chair and pick up the open book. I like to think about him sitting here in this cozy, warm room, reading sci-fi novels. I wonder what he wears when he’s lounging around the house—he had spent our weekend mostly naked, save for the occasional pair of boxer shorts when bringing food back to the bedroom.
The chair smells like him, all bergamot and delicious notes of rum, and I curl up into the cushions and start to read.
* * *
“Rebecca,”a voice murmurs and I jerk awake. I’m confused for a second, not knowing where I am. Then the scent of Luke surrounding me registers and I remember. Leaving his penthouse this morning. The terrible encounter with Aden. Luke’s words and promises. His den. I look around the room. It’s grown darker since I first came in, the sun higher in the sky now, no longer shining directly through the windows. There are long shadows spread across the walls, and I wonder how long he’s been gone.
“Luke.” He’s kneeling in front of the chair, his fingers rubbing gentle, soothing circles on my arms, looking at me with such tenderness it takes my breath away. “What time is it?”
“After lunch. Emily said you didn’t eat.”
I stretch. “I must have fallen asleep.” Then I remember why, exactly, he left and my senses sharpen, waking me fully. “What happened?”
“Everything is taken care of.”
I blink at him, waiting for more of an explanation. It doesn't come.
“That’s all I get?”
He shrugs. “It wasn’t particularly difficult. I merely told Roth the new arrangement.”
“Which is…”
“That you’re mine,” he says simply. “I also told him what I’m willing to do to protect what’s mine.”
“You threatened him,” I surmise.
Another shrug. “I reminded him of the many clients that we share and asked him to consider whose business those clients would be more willing to lose. That seemed to do the trick.” He brushes my hair behind my ears. “Then he received a call from your father, telling him in no uncertain terms what would happen if he ever threatens you again.”
I gape at him, my mouth opening and shutting three times before I manage words. “My father?”
“I called him,” Luke says simply, like its no big deal. “I wanted to make sure Roth knew there was more than just business and money at stake. A man like your father has real power and money only goes so far.”
I feel like I can’t breathe. There’s a sharp stab of pain lancing through my chest. “You…you told my father?” I yell in a strangled cry.
Understanding passes over Luke’s face and he immediately pulls me up. In one smooth motion he’s taken my place on the chair and has me tucked on his lap.
“I didn’t tell your father what Roth was threatening you with. I would never tell anyone about your involvement in this lifestyle.” He tilts my face, forcing me to look at him. “That’s something you should never have to question, okay? You put your trust in me at Club Wyld and in my playroom and here in my home. I take that very seriously.”
His expression is so genuine it’s impossible not to believe him. It’s more than that, though. He said I put my trust in him and I’m realizing just how deep that trust goes. Yes, our relationship is new but the trust I have for this man is unquestionable.
Still…he talked to my father.
“What did you say to him, then?”
He winces slightly. “I actually know your father.”
“You do?”
He shrugs. “I have to work with lots of people in government for all kinds of reasons. Your dad is a pretty big deal.”
