Page 32 of The Leader

“Don’t like me working with him, or don’t like me working, period? I’m not a stay-at-home wife, Gio. If that was how you had pictured your perfect little suburban life, you should’ve married Gina or Mary.”

“Yet, here you are, at our home,” he said pointedly. “Staying.”

“That was a really bad joke.”

“You don’t need to work.” He frowned, as if the possibility of a woman working was a foreign concept to him.

“But I like to work.”

“But you don’thaveto. You’re my wife.” He gestured around, as if pointing out the world to her. “If you need something, just let me know.”

It was like talking to a mule. His thoughts regarding her role as his wife were pretty archaic. It didn’t really surprise her, though. Women were considered an asset—a pretty, shiny object—by most men in their world, existing only to enhance their husband’s status. Her sister’s marriage was a testament to that.

“So what, you thought that my life would just stop during our marriage? Come to a halt, and would only restart when you want it to?” She snorted. “Think again. I do have a brain, you know, and I am planning to use it.”

“On what?”

“Excuse me?” Was he really saying he didn’t think she could think for herself? Would he really be that—?

“What is it that you are using your brain for? What are you working on?” he clarified.

“You really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

She gave him a suspicious look, trying to figure out if he was making fun of her. He seemed to be genuinely interested in her answer, though. Fine. She would give him a chance. Just one.

“We are developing a software program to track down people. It’s a facial recognition software, designed specifically for kids. We intend to use it to find kidnapped and runaway children.” She went on a few moments longer until she realized she was basically presenting him with their business plan. “I’m boring you.”

“No, you’re not. You sound passionate about it. Don’t let anyone ever kill your passion for anything you desire to do.” He pulled her close. “I want you to reconsider my offer for office space.”

“I don’t think—”

He put a finger on her lips, effectively shushing her. “Just think about it, okay?”

When she nodded, he pulled his finger away.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

“What?”

“Turn around and place your hands on the wall. I want to play.”

Why did his voice want to make her comply? She did as he asked and waited. And waited some more. Anticipation made her body hum and it was difficult to stop herself from turning her head.

The sound of his zipper sliding down somehow seemed obscene in the otherwise quiet room.

“You are my wife.” He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back against him. He bit her shoulder, soothing the pain with wet kisses that trailed to her neck, chin, and mouth.

“Who do you belong to,bella?”

She yelped when the palm of his hand landed on her butt. “To you. I belong to you.”

“Never forget or deny that.”

***

It wasn’t until half an hour later that he finally let her go. Damn him for making her all hot and bothered, and refusing to make her come. No matter how much she’d begged him. He’d said something about “anticipation” and “later” but honestly, she had been too far gone by then to pay any attention to his words.

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