Page 42 of Sovereign

His head cocks. “Then you’re right back where you started.”

I hold out my hand and he places the pen firmly in my palm. It’s cold and smooth and heavier than expected. It feels like a little Pandora’s Box, tempting me to just pull the cap off and sign my name.

What’s the worst that could happen?

I study his face. He has me right where he wants me and I’m dismayed that I don’t mind. Last night was the best sex of my life and now he’s offering me an entire year of that.

Slowly, I realize I’ve been asking myself the wrong question. I should be asking what’s the best that could happen.

The best would be good sex, having him listen to me like I’m the only person in the world, letting him call me redbird, falling asleep in his warmth every night.

I want to experience that. Even if it doesn’t last beyond this year.

He leans forward in his chair. His two fingers tap the paper.

“Sign it, redbird,” he says quietly. “Sign it and let me give you everything.”

How does he read my thoughts so easily? Ears burning, I uncap the pen and put it to paper. My hand shakes, my signature is sloppy.

But I manage to scrawl it across that dotted line. And it feels so different than when I did this with Jackson.

For the first time, it feels like opening a door instead of closing it.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

KEIRA

We go to bed early, but he doesn’t fuck me. I slip into bed wearing one of his worn t-shirts and he gets in next to me in just his sweatpants. I wait for him to roll me over and push himself into me, to leave me aching again, but he doesn’t.

Instead, I feel his hand slide over my hip. Holding me gently. When I peek over my shoulder, he’s asleep.

Curious, I shift onto my back. The blanket is around his waist. I have my half pulled up to my chin because it’s freezing outside, but he radiates heat. I reach out and touch his bicep. I didn’t get a good look at it before, but he’s got a black and white traditional tattoo of a bull skull on his chest. It extends to his upper arms and stops above his elbows.

My fingertips contact his warm skin, tracing the sightless eyes of the skull. The thick muscle under it is relaxed. A slab of skin, muscle, and bone. I shudder. I’ve always been wary of big men the way I am with big animals.

They’re unpredictable and when they go off, the damage is like a bomb blast.

I nestle my head deeper into my pillow and pull the quilt up to my chin. The problem with Gerard is that, despite how he reminds me of a bull, I’m not scared of him.

In fact, he looks warm and inviting.

And I’m cold.

I inch closer. He doesn’t move so I shift even closer. He rumbles in his chest and his hand moves out, his palm gripping my hip and flipping me. Like I weigh nothing, like a pancake on a griddle. He pulls me back against him without waking and I’m enveloped in his heat.

It’s like sinking into a hot bath.

Oh God, it feels good to be held. The hand that drapes over my waist might suffocate me, but I don’t care. I’ve waited too long for this.

My father loved me and taught me to be strong. To stand on my own. My husband ignored me and I taught myself not to need him.

In Gerard Sovereign’s arms, I feel my walls crumble. I haven’t felt safe since my father died. But here, at the top of the mountain, in this kingdom he’s built, I feel untouchable.

It’s early when I wake, the sky is still dark. Gerard moves around the room, already dressed. I can hear the gentle tread of his boots on the ground. It comes closer until he’s right in front of me in the firelight.

He crouches and shakes me gently. “Wake up, redbird.”

I cough the hoarseness from my voice and lift my head. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

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