Page 47 of Velvet Cruelty

He lets out a slow breath. “There are some complicated sides. But what’s happening with you, it isn’t standard practice. Parker is… different.”

It’s so strange to hear him say Mr. Parker’s name. I thought my math tutor and the man I was supposed to marry were separate parts of my life. Turns out they were actually joined long before I showed up.

“How does Mr. Parker fit into your business?”

Bobby’s face shifts. He becomes the man who killed Kurt again. I wriggle backward. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. But take my word for it. Parker isn’t who you think he is. He’s dangerous.”

I picture Mr. Parker’s round face and baby blue eyes. “I’ve seen more dangerous cavoodles being walked through Central Park.”

Bobby doesn’t smile. “He’s a bad man. Take it from me.”

“But he’s always been so nice!”

Bobby surges to his feet, his face tight. “He was biding his time until you married him. How can you not see that?”

“Mr. Parker had plenty of time to be mean to me, but he never even touched me.”

A low growl rumbles in Bobby’s chest. “I never touched you either.”

“You weren’t supposed to be my husband.”

Bobby’s jaw juts out. “So you wanted to marry him? You wanted his filthy hands all over your body?”

“No, but I wanted to do right by my family. And I didn’t want to be locked in a cage.”

Bright red spreads down Bobby’s cheeks and into his neck like melted raspberry gelato. “You’re right. But that’s what I’m here to talk to you about—the other arrangements. You’ll need to stay here for a while longer. But once this has blown over, I think it could be a good idea, if you want, and you think it’s a good idea for us, for you and me. For us… Not that there’s any pressure. There’s no pressure. It’s up to you, JJ…”

His words sound like anagrams. Like there’s a message in there but I can’t figure out what it is without a roll of paper and tri-color pens. “Bobby, what are you saying?”

He clears his throat, so red I can almost feel the heat coming off him. “We can get married. For your protection.”

Somewhere in the basement, water drips.

I want to ask if he’s joking, but I’m pretty sure he’ll die of embarrassment. “Um, how will being married protect me from Mr. Parker? Aren’t you guys planning to kill him?”

“I… yeah.” Bobby’s gaze slides sideways. “It’s more of a… future type… thing.”

I get it. He doesn’t mean ‘protect me’ from Mr. Parker. He means ‘protect me’ from his friends. From stripping and becoming a sugar baby and whatever Adriano Rossi wants to do to me. I gnaw at my thumbnail.

“January?”

I can’t meet his eyes. “Yeah?”

Bobby drops back onto his knee. Getting the news out seems to have relieved some of his internal pressure. “I know this is a lot to take, but it wouldn’t be a marriage like you had with Parker. I don’t want to control you. Once you’re under my protection, you can do whatever you like.”

Except go home. And I can’t imagine Doc, the man who just held a knife to my throat, letting me go skipping into the sunset with Bobby. “Will the others… um, be okay with us getting married?”

“They won’t like it. But if it’s what you choose, I’ll put my foot down and they’ll have to respect it.”

I believe him. My heart jolts. Could I marry Bobby? It would be better than stripping or being sold to the Russian Mafia. But even as I consider what saying yes would mean, my insides twist. I’m trapped behind dirty glass. I can only see pieces of what’s happening or why. I want to wipe it clean and see the whole thing. “I thought I wasn’t fancy enough to marry?”

“That’s Eli. I’m no Italian prince. You’ll be punching a few belts below your weight with me.”

There’s a smile in his voice. Without thinking I look right into Bobby’s face and his loveliness overwhelms me. His brown eyes are welcoming, and I imagine walking down the aisle toward him. Sleeping in his big, muscly arms. My mind tries to dream up what he looks like naked, and I turn away.

Bobby takes my hand again, folding it in his. “Just because I’m not a Velluto doesn’t mean I can’t take care of you. What I do pays better than Wall Street. You can have everything you had at your mom’s house. More.”

---