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)
“Tell me.”
“It’s more than an obsession. What I feel for you.” I sense that he’s holding back, but not to hide from me. He doesn’t want to scare me away.
I remove my hand.
“I feel it, too,” I admit. “That’s what scares me. That’s why I run.”
“I thought it was because you wanted me to chase you.”
“Maybe I did.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that a part of me enjoyed being locked in his cage. “You were a good dom to me because you gave me what I needed. I need you to do that now.”
His nostrils flare like a bull ready to charge. “I can do that. I can meet all of your needs. I want to. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
I remove my hand with a shaky sigh. This is what I want to hear, but I don’t know.
“What do you need?” He’s inviting me to let him in.
This is what I’ve been wondering since I escaped from Roy Manor. Is Rex capable of seeing me as an equal?
Am I just his possession? Or can we have a partnership?
Maybe the marriage was a declaration in more ways than one. To the world, it means he sees me as his, but he also sees me as someone worthy of the Roy name. He wants to be with me. That’s why the marriage wasn’t fake to him. He wants it to be forever.
He can’t come right out and say how he feels. He has to show it through domination and control. But he does have feelings for me.
And I have feelings for him. He gives me everything I need. Safety, but a challenge. I even enjoy our fights. What did he say? Arguing with you is better than fucking anyone else. He gets the same thrill of the fight that I do.
Can we build a relationship on fights and sexy nights? Can the highs fix everything in between?
Can I take Rex Roy to be my lawfully wedded husband? Do I want to?
“I need to focus. I need you to help me catch the Bondage Killer.” The question of not-so-fake marriage can wait until then.
“Then it’s time for me to show you your wedding gift.”
A gift? My heart lifts, even as I roll my eyes.
He goes to a door on the TV wall that I assumed was locked. He opens it and beckons for me to follow.
“What is this?” We enter a larger room, complete with another lounge area and a minibar on the side. There’s a huge entryway, an extra bathroom, and another bedroom beyond.
“Your rooms,” he says. “If this is going to be your home base, you’ll need the space.” He glances back at me, his lips twisting into a smirk. “Or we can move to the honeymoon suite if you prefer.” There’s a mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes. “It is, after all, our honeymoon.”
“Stop,” I mutter, but the joke doesn’t bother me. I feel lighter. “This will work. Thank you.”
“Oh, this isn’t your gift.” He jerks his chin to another door, one that must lead to a bedroom. “Through there.”
I pass him to open it. I have a psychic sense that something’s waiting for me, something dangerous. A beast in a cave.
Then I open the door and see what Rex has done for me.
12
Inara
* * *
The room I enter isn’t a bedroom. It’s a situation room, complete with whiteboards, cork boards, and a state-of-the-art array of computers. In the center of the room, a round table holds stacks of files. There’s one stamped “Confidential: Elyria Police Department.”
“What is this?” I breathe. Rex hovers at my back.
“A place for you to work. Hamish had the original files couriered here.”
I reach for the Elyria files and pause with my fingertips hovering over the folder. “NRPD needs these files.”
“You can bring them in tomorrow morning if you wish. And there are the Blackbird files.” He points to the murder book I requested at City Hall.
I’m looking at everything I need to put together the profile Bonds requested. This is huge.
I turn to Rex. He said I could touch him, but I’m still hesitant when I lay my hands on his chest. “You did all of this? For me?”
“I’d do anything for you.” His face is a blank mask, but the heat smolders in his eyes.
I rise to tiptoe to touch my lips to his. He doesn’t move except to lightly grip my elbows, steadying me. “Thank you,” I whisper.
He kisses me back but lets me retreat. He’s here to support me, protect me, but he’s trying to give me space. Give me the freedom to fly.
My heart is soaring.
He inclines his head toward the table. “You want to catch him. Let’s catch him.”
My stomach turns over at the thought of the gruesome work ahead of me, but I nod. “Let’s get to work.”