Page 45 of Scarlet Mark
“And none of these other men did something that warrants a death sentence?” Because I recognized several who I knew did. “You’re telling me none of these other guys touched you? Or asked Malcom for a night with you?”
She set her mostly finished dish down and faced me on the couch. “Some of them are horny men, yes. But Malcom is the one who offered me to them.”
“And theyaccepted. They had to know it was wrong.”
“So you want me to kill them for touching me against my will?”
“No,Iwant to kill them for touching you without consent.”
“By that logic, then I should add you to the list. I mean, you put a knife against my pussy just yesterday, didn’t you? And I don’t recall asking for that.”
My jaw dropped at the crude words, my lunch churning in my gut. I pushed the plate aside, my appetite diminished.
“What? So you’re allowed to take advantage of me, but none of the others can?” She tsked. “Come on now, Killian. You have to admit that’s a bit of the pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?” Such flippant words spoken in a chastising manner that grated on my nerves.
“So you liked them touching you?” I countered, irked that she’d just compared me to a bunch of rapists. Yes, I may have taken advantage of a compromising situation, but only because the attraction between us was thriving and mutual.
“Sometimes the body responds even when your mind rebels,” she replied, glancing downward in shame.
I caught her chin and forced her to meet my gaze. “Are you trying to tell me you didn’t like my knife against you? That your body responded against your will?” Because I wouldn’t believe her for a second. I knew how to read women. Her interest had darkened her gaze to a luscious green, and she’d certainly kissed me back. Fuck bodily reactions. She’dlikedmy touch.
“No.” She tried to shake off my hand, but I held her captive, needing to know the answer to this, to read the truth of it in her eyes. “You asked if I liked them touching me. I’m saying that not all bodily reactions are willing. So while I may havereactedfor them, it doesn’t mean I enjoyed it.”
“And with me?” I pressed.
She swallowed, her pupils dilating. “You’re… different.”
Good.“Then don’t you ever put me in the same category asthem. I may like playing with you, Amara, but I would never accept the bride of another man for a night when I knew it was against her will.” I released her, still furious that she would even think to compare us.
But of course she would.
That was all she’d ever known.
“Take this list and put an asterisk by the ones who touched you.” Since it seemed she’d never been with a man willingly, it wasn’t worth having to clarify any specific parameters. I handed her the papers without looking at her, too irritated with myself and her to trust my expression.
“A lot of them expressed interest in scheduling time with me for after the wedding,” she said quietly instead of doing what I asked. “I was only with Malcom at his residence for nine months, and most of the men who touched me in that time were members of his staff, like Boris.” Her wince shook the couch, stirring a pit of unease inside me.
This woman had gone through hell and came out on the other side fighting. And here I was angry that she’d accused me of being a monster like Malcom when she had every right to believe that. Amara and I met because I was sent to drag her home—alive or dead. That made me a villain in her eyes, one who had touched her just like all the others.
Different, she’d called me. Different because she was actually attracted to me? Or different because I was helping her?
“I mean, there was the first night when he took my virginity and then passed me around to a bunch of his colleagues to see how much I could endure before breaking. Then he used me a few times at meetings, mostly as an ornament for the table. Except for one time when I upset him. He made me perform then. Oh, and the two times he sent me out to act as a black widow. But the majority of his plans for me were post-wedding. Everything during our engagement was merely a test of my usefulness, both for him and for Amir.”
My blood boiled at how casually she depicted the last few months of her life. Could it have been worse? Absolutely. Butfuck, what that bastard did to her was so damn wrong. And his intentions for the future?
“I’m going to enjoy destroying him,” I admitted, my tone darkened by lethal intent. “I still want to know who on this list touched you. Even if it was just a stroke of a finger across your skin, I want his fucking name identified. We might not kill each one, but we will be sending them all a message.” And they’d go on a watch list. If they so much as breathed wrong, I’d have their balls in a vise. “Also, add Clarissa and Geoff, and anyone else involved in the auctions.”
“You’re going to have me writing all day,” she grumbled.
“Thorough planning is required, kitten. Especially for what we intend to accomplish.” I stood, needing a shower after this discussion. She wasn’t the first to lay hefty allegations at my feet, but she was the first to work her way beneath my skin. Because while I knew her accusations were born from a fucked-up history, she was partly right. I’d never asked for permission. It just wasn’t my style. I relied on my partners to tell me if I pushed too far, and I enjoyed the danger of knife play. I thought Amara had, too.
Now I didn’t know what to think.
And I hated that.
I brushed my fingers through my hair, frozen before her. “Amara?”
She didn’t look at me, her focus on the papers in her lap. “Hmm?”
