Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98819 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
But in every picture of Rex and one of his exes, he keeps a space between his body and theirs. In contrast, on the City Hall steps, he crowded close to me and stared at me like we were the only two people on Earth. I’m not imagining this; it’s clearly shown.
Our marriage doesn’t look fake at all.
The chyron reads Secret Wedding: Rex Roy married!
Then it’s back to footage of the press conference. They’re not mentioning the Bondage Killer. Instead, the reporters are speculating about who will be in attendance at the engagement ball. They even include a quote from the chief, who is taking credit for our relationship. Nadia warned us he would, and she was right. And she must be good to be able to suppress the connection between the murders, the Bondage Killer, and me.
A click of ice in a whiskey glass warns me that Rex is approaching. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he says.
I mute the TV. “Another perk of being a Roy?”
“The press will settle down. Nadia will reward the ones who behave and squash the others like a bug.”
“I know.” I face him, frowning. It feels like the ground is shifting beneath my feet, and I’m fighting to stay upright. At the same time, Rex is becoming the fixed point, my rock. He took control again and made himself a part of my world. But. . . I like it. And it’s weirding me out.
“I’m going to find out who that reporter was. Bring him in for questioning.”
I get a flash of insight—a greasy aura, nauseating green—but then it’s gone. “Nadia won’t like that.”
“She won’t ever know.”
“Okay.” I guess this is familiar ground for Rex, navigating between his public and private persona. I didn’t realize how overwhelming it all would be.
It makes it that much more special that I’m the only one who sees all of him.
“You’re upset.” Rex moves closer, but there’s still space between us, like the space he left between him and his ex-girlfriends.
Can I touch you? I smile to myself. He’s being respectful. And now he’s sensing me withdraw, as I always do in the face of strong feelings. But he can’t stand it.
I have to be honest with him. It’s hard, but I told myself I would try.
I motion to the TV, where an on-screen Rex cups my face over and over again. “I thought this was fake. You said it wasn’t real.”
“I lied.”
My mouth falls open. He’s half in shadow so I can’t see his expression, but the way he sets down his drink makes me think he’s getting ready to advance the offensive.
“I can’t pretend it doesn’t mean anything, Inara. It does mean something to me.”
“You wanted to marry me,” I whisper, testing it out. It feels like the Earth is shifting on its axis and Rex is keeping me grounded while everything else moves into place. “You wanted me as your wife. Admit it.” It’s half in hope, half a challenge.
“Gladly.” He steps into the light, and I flinch at the savage yearning written on his face. “I want you any way I can get you. And if all I can do is mark you with my name, I’ll do it.”
He’s not holding back, but I’m not afraid. “You meant every word of that threat. You’d kill anyone for me.”
“Yes. If anyone seeks to harm you, their days are numbered.” He reaches for me but doesn’t let his hand cup my cheek. “I will protect you, and no power on Earth will stop me.”
“Except me. I can stop you.” I note his hand hovering in the air. He’s not touching me yet because I haven’t given him permission.
He gives me a slow nod.
It’s heady having this level of control over such a powerful man. “Because you want me. Not a controlled automaton version of me, a sex doll.”
“Oh,” he sighs, and I feel the full force of his longing. “I want to control you. I want to tie you up and feed you by hand. Fuck you hourly until you beg for relief, for an end to the orgasms, for a reprieve.” We’re facing each other, only a few inches between us, and I feel the heat of his desire. But I’m perfectly safe. He’s taken all that glorious control and caged himself, all for me.
I lift a hand and let it hover in front of him. “Can I touch you?”
“Always. You don’t need permission. Not with me.”
I slide my hand over the expensive cotton of his shirt. He’s removed his suit jacket, but the button-down does a good job of hiding the expanse of muscle underneath. The scars. “No one sees this side of you,” I say mostly to myself. “No one but me. And that means something to you.”
“Inara,” he hesitates, but I catch it.