Page 171 of Risks of Temptation
"Because he will not break me this time."
Malin closes his eyes, inhales deeply, then opens them. He tugs me closer. "No one will break you ever again. I'm sorry we have to be back here."
I stick my chin out. "I'm not."
A deep line forms between his eyebrows. "Why not?"
"Have you heard me complain?"
He tucks my hair behind my ear. "No, ma belle. You have never complained once about any of this. I'm fortunate to have a woman like you who can love me through all this chaos."
"As your wife," I add.
His grin widens. "I love how you never let me forget it."
I wrap my arms around him. "I am Mrs. Malin Cox. Owned and loved and no one's property but yours. And no matter what the President or any other man wants, they will not touch me because they have to go through you."
Malin's eyes darken. "I only own you to the extent you own me, ma belle. We are equals."
He reminds me all the time. It's so easy for me to slip into our roles. No matter how much time passes, it doesn't seem to get easier for Malin. But I don't have a problem morphing into it.
I'm screwed up. I know I am. No one should want to be owned by anyone. But I love every aspect of being Malin's property.
I smile. "I know." I point to the wall. "And he will not break me, or you, or us. This time, I am prepared for the room."
Malin's face grows more serious. "You can never be fully prepared for the room, Emilia."
"I don't believe that."
"Do not ever drop your guard in the room or around any of them."
"That isn't my intention."
Malin studies me for a moment. "We haven't been to an event since we got married. And we've not been to the room since you were presented."
"It couldn't last forever, could it?" I tease.
"Someday, it will. There will be no more of these."
I trace my bare neck. "I kind of miss wearing my choker."
His eyes turn to slits. "Why do you make light of this?"
"Why do you not understand I love showing everyone I am yours?"
"There are other ways to show that we are each other's."
"You had it made for me."
He glances at the ceiling, clenching his jaw.
I lean into his ear. "If I love it, you should embrace it."
He sighs. It's a never-ending issue we can't agree on.
I slide his wedding band off his finger and hold it up. "Your band says, 'Emilia' and 'Ma belle.' Not 'love, Emilia' or 'love, Ma belle.'" I take mine off. "Mine says, 'Forever Yours, Malin.' You happily wear both my names every day, yet you don't like me wearing yours."
"It's not the same."
