Chapter 12
12
That cool, calm mask was back on his face as he lifted one eyebrow. Lord, she was jealous of people who could do that.
“That’s so darn cool.”
“I’m not sure I even want to know what’s cool,” he said. “But I do know what I saw, no matter what you say, Little Blossom.”
Unable to bear him studying her, dissecting her, she turned her face into his chest. She waited for him to berate her. To push her to one side.
To her shock, he gently placed his hand on the back of her head.
“I see you, baby.”
She let out a deep breath, shocked to find herself near tears. She could not cry in front of this man.
Faith had already humiliated herself enough tonight.
How would she face him again tomorrow morning?
“My sister isn’t fond of crowds,” he said suddenly. “She gets very shy. And she often curls her hand up in the shirt of someone she trusts to let them steer her through the crowd. To keep her safe.”
“She does that to you?” Faith couldn’t really imagine someone twisting their hand in Reuben’s clothes. Or him allowing it.
But then, he was talking about Juliet. The person he’d promised to give all the big brother hugs she wanted.
“Yes, of course. Because she trusts me most of all.”
“She does?” Faith leaned back to look up at him in surprise.
Reuben gave her a cool look back. “You needn’t look so shocked. I’m an outstanding big brother.”
Yeah, she thought he likely was. Which made him seem less like a tyrant and more human.
Approachable.
Well, maybe that was taking things too far.
“I would do anything for my sister. Anything.”
That dark note in his voice told her he wasn’t messing around.
“I have older brothers. They’re protective too.”
“Hmm. Are they? Do they ruin the lives of anyone who hurts you? Upsets you? Looks at you strangely?”
Her mouth dropped open. “You . . . you’ve done that?”
He didn’t answer. But she didn’t need him to.
For some reason, she wasn’t as freaked out as she probably should be. Maybe because he’d done those things for his sister.
“Of course, her men might argue that she trusts them more. But they’re wrong.”
Her men?
As in plural?
“H-how many does she have?” she asked. He hadn’t mentioned her men before.
Another clap of thunder. She squealed, burying herself back into his embrace as she wrapped her hands around his neck.
“I hate this. I hate it. I hate it so damn much.”
“What do you hate, Little Blossom?” he murmured.
“I hate being so freaking weak! I’m scared of thunder and lightning. It’s ridiculous.”
She waited for him to tell her that it wasn’t ridiculous. That she wasn’t weak. At least that’s what her family would always tell her.
That it was normal to have fears. But was it? Especially when she couldn’t recall any reason for her fear.
“Does sucking your thumb help you?” he asked.
He didn’t try to comfort her other than holding her on his lap. She wished that he’d hug her tight or tell her that everything would be okay.
“You didn’t see that, remember?” she whispered.
She felt so close to her breaking point. Trembles rocked through her. She just wanted to hide somewhere dark and small. To suck on her thumb and hug Colin.
“Are you ashamed of finding comfort by sucking your thumb?” he asked.
What was this?
A freaking therapy session?
“Faith,” he said in that low, dark voice.
Her breathing grew faster. “Yes, all right. It’s comforting, but also embarrassing.”
“Watch your tone,” he warned.
Yikes.
That tone. That sternness. It slipped through her, tightening her insides.
“Put your thumb back into your mouth,” he said.
Faith shook her head. Nope. No. She wasn’t doing that.
“Listen to me, I can feel you trembling, and I don’t like it. So, you will do whatever you need to do to make it stop. If you don’t, I’m going to do whatever I deem necessary to make it stop.”
Her breath caught in her lungs at his words.
What was he talking about? Why would he care that she was trembling?
And what would he do to make her stop?
“But I should warn you, if I take over, you’re going to find me much less easygoing than I am right now.”
“This . . . this is easygoing?” Was he kidding her? He was one of the most uptight, exacting men she’d ever met.
He eyed her sternly. “You think I’m bossy now? Well, you’ve seen nothing yet. I can be extremely overbearing, interfering, and controlling. If you need me to take over, then I will. But be warned that you will do as I say. There will be no arguing. There will be no disobeying me.”
She didn’t think she did any of those things now.
Mostly because she was too intimidated by him to tell him no.
Plus, she didn’t want to get fired.
Again.
“But you should also know that if you need me to take over right now, to take care of you, to be what you need, then you will never be more protected or looked after.” His voice had softened.
What did he think it was that she needed from him?
She wasn’t sure she understood what he was offering, other than the fact that he seemed to think he got to be in charge.
Another clap of thunder. Another cry from her. She nearly peed herself that time.
Storms always made her feel so small and vulnerable. It felt like the world was screaming at her, trying to tear her to pieces.
What was wrong with her?
It was just a storm. And she was safe.
“I don’t like that you’re trembling in fear,” he muttered.
Wait, he was upset because she was scared? That was weirdly sweet.
Lord. What was she even thinking? He wasn’t sweet.
He was all dark temptation.
Silky sin.
The Prince of Darkness.
If you need me to take over right now, to take care of you, to be what you need, then you will never be more protected or looked after.
Did he know how tempting that was? How she craved having someone look after her? To make the decisions? How tired she was of doing it herself?
Particularly because she no longer trusted herself. Her judgment was shot to hell. Every decision she now made was agonized over to the point of making herself ill.
If she bought fruit and veggies instead of living off cheese and crackers, would it take her additional weeks to pay off her debt? But if she didn’t buy the healthier food, would she get ill? And would that add even more time onto her sentence?
That’s what this huge debt hanging over her head felt like—penance.
For making the wrong decision.
For not being good enough, clever enough, smart enough.
“What happens if I say yes to you taking over?” she asked.
“Then you become mine.”
“For . . . for how long?” And what would being his be like?
You know what it would be like. He just told you. He expects obedience. Blind devotion. For you to give up control.
You need to be strong and stay well away from him. Tell him no.
But all she wanted was to tell him yes.
Was it just for right now? While they were here? It had to be, right? Because there was no way he truly wanted her.
Not the way she wanted him. The way she dreamed about him, craved him.
Obsessed over him.
“For as long as I want,” he whispered.
She stiffened in shock. Then another clap of thunder had her whimpering.
“I need the bathroom,” she squealed.
Fudge knuckles. Why did she say that?
And why wasn’t he moving?
“I can tell. But I don’t think I’ll take you until I get my answer.”
Was he kidding her!
“You can’t tell me when I can go to the bathroom!”
“Baby, I believe I just did.”
It would serve him right if she peed herself while sitting on him, in his two-thousand-dollar suit, on his thirty-thousand-dollar couch.
Okay, she might be exaggerating about the cost of his couch. Maybe.
She pressed her thighs together. “Reuben.”
“Reuben, huh? No Prince of Darkness or SOS?”
She froze. Wait. He knew that she called him those things?
“When I first heard you muttering SOS around me, I thought that you were calling for help. But that’s not it, is it? What does it stand for, Little Blossom?”
Oh no.
She was not telling him.
She shook her head and tried to climb off his lap, but he tightened his hold on her.
“No moving. Tell me.”
“Son of Satan.” The words burst out of her.
She really, really had to pee.
“I thought it was something like that.”
“You know it’s not good for me to hold on like this, right?”
“You’re right.” He stood, cradling her in his arms. “Let’s get you to the toilet.”
Another clap. She saw lightning flash. That was it, she was done.
She’d hit her limit.
She couldn’t do this anymore. Being in charge. Doing it all. It was so darn tiring.
What he was offering was too tempting to ignore. At least for tonight. And if she changed her mind tomorrow . . . well, that was tomorrow’s problem.