Chapter 6 #2
“You will. I'll make sure of it.” He kisses me again, and his murmur follows me into sleep. “My beautiful Leah.”
Leah
My hand feels heavy. That’s the first sensation that enters my sleep-fogged mind. I crack my eyes open. I turn my hand over from where it’s resting on the sheets, and light flares into my eyes.
There’s a ring on my finger, sparkling in the soft ray of sunlight criss-crossing the bed.
My lips part, my breath coming in rapid puffs.
The starring gem is a huge princess cut diamond, blinding me when it catches the light.
It's set in white gold and surrounded by a whole circle of smaller diamonds, as if one diamond weren’t enough.
The main rock is big enough to knock someone out if I slapped them, if I was the violent type.
I scramble out of bed. I’m alone again. Royal left me to nap. The clock reads five p.m. Royal is probably working, or buying me more clothes, or announcing our engagement to the world. He probably thought the diamond on my finger gave him the last word.
It’s a pretty effective argument. So are the faint red marks on my wrists and ankles and the soreness between my legs.
You belong to me.
I have an insane desire to run down to Royal’s kitchen and bake up a storm. I haven’t eaten today, right? I haven’t felt hungry yet, but my stomach’s finally waking up.
Chocolate, that’s what I need. Chocolate will make everything better.
I go to the closet and exhale, trying to pick an outfit from the many beautiful clothes.
The ring flashes at me every time I move my hand.
There’s a churning in my stomach, something between excitement and apprehension.
Annoyance at how presumptuous he was, to put a ring on me, while I was asleep.
Nervousness because I don’t know how I’m going to talk my way out of this.
A sick feeling, because if I can talk my way out of this, it’s going to break my heart.
I rifle through the sweaters, and pick one out that’s candy lilac, with rainbow threads dripping down the sleeves. I also grab black yoga pants because if I’m going to tell Royal off for putting a diamond the size of a ping-pong ball on my hand, I need to be ready to rumble.
I burst into Royal’s office like a tornado, and he turns in his chair.
His face softens when he sees me, but before he can rise, I point an accusing finger at him.
“You,” I say. His eyebrows slide upward and his lips quirk, like he’s hiding a grin.
“Me?” He looks around the empty room, his expression playful. I like every side of Royal. Protective Royal. Dangerous Royal. Tender Royal. Sexy as FUCK Royal. Royal in complete control. And this, Playful Royal.
On a lesser man, his smile would be a shit-eating grin. On him, it’s just attractive and makes my belly melt.
“Did you think, for a minute, I might want to be awake for the proposal?” I ask, fluttering my hand in the air.
His eyes go soft and warm. “I couldn’t risk you running again. There’s a tracking device in there.”
“Tracking device?” I squeak, when I find my voice.
“Oh yes,” he murmurs. “You will not escape me again.”
I put a hand to my forehead and the diamond clunks against my brow.
“Leah.” He holds out an imperious hand. “Come here.”
My legs are moving before I can stop them. I cross the room and he pulls me close.
“Good girl,” he breathes, wrapping me in his arms and kissing me. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” He sinks into a large leather armchair and turns me so I’m sideways in his lap. We both stare down at my ring finger and the diamond winking at us. “I told you you would no longer be alone.”
There’s an explosion where my brain used to be. “Royal, please. I need answers.”
“This is your engagement day, so I will entertain you and your theories.”
“I don’t have theories, I have questions,” I say, my anxious fluttering simmering down somewhat.
He’s relaxed right now, this quiet time just for the two of us.
He’s back in his usual outfit of crisp shirt and black slacks.
His sleeves are rolled up, showing off his taut forearms. I want to trace my fingers the length of his muscles, ruffle the dark hairs.
“Ask, whatever you want,” he says, lifting my hand to his lips. He kisses my palm gently and I yank it away. I will not be distracted. Not right now.
“You say you want to marry me…” I stop because saying the word out loud is so unbelievable.
“I will marry you.”
Okay. I swallow. “As your wife, what will I be expected to do?”
“Bake for me, naked.”
I roll my eyes.
“I'm serious, baby. You do whatever you want to do as long as you spend the nights with me,” he says, kissing my hand again. “Your nights are mine.”
That shoots off distant, muted alarm bells in the back of my head.
What about his days? If he doesn’t care about my days, where is he spending his days? With beautiful women? My heart already feels like it’s going to shatter, and I must have stopped breathing because he takes me by the chin, gentle fingers on my skin.
“Leah?” he asks, concern on his face.
“I’m—” How will I know he’s mine? My gaze travels past him to the fireplace mantle, to the collection of heavy, polished silver frames.
Right in front is a picture of Royal with the statuesque, dark-eyed beauty.
That’s the kind of woman he should be with.
She’s poised and beautiful. There’s more than one photo of him and her—some of them in a group, one of her and him alone.
In each picture, they look good together. They look like they belong.
When I look back up at Royal, his forehead is furrowed.
“Who is that woman?” I’m bold enough to ask.
“My cousin. Lucrezia.”
“Cousin?” Oh. Of course. She looks a lot like Royal and the rest of his cousins. Silly me, spiraling for no reason.
“We call her Lula,” he says, affection plain in his voice. “You'll meet her… in about an hour,” he says.
“What?” I shoot up off his lap, but he pulls me back.
“I asked her to come. She’s my lawyer and I have some business. No, stay,” he secures me in his lap, “I need you here.”
“For business?” I ask, and squirm when his hand delves between my legs.
His lips find my ear. “Among other things.” He’s doing that thing again, with the palm of his hand. If I let him, he’ll play me like a fiddle for the next thirty minutes, my brains will leak from my head when I come, and I won’t get a chance to question him at all.
I push his hand away. “Royal, you’ve got to stop. I need you to talk to me. This whole Batman schtick only works in movies, the strong ‘n silent schtick doesn’t work for—”
He leans down and plants his mouth on mine, swallowing my words. My breath ends in a moan. The waking flower of warmth between my thighs has me rocking closer.
It’s not fair. He knows exactly how to kiss me to muffle any protest I might have.
“But… Lula… business…”
“She’s wonderful, and she’s looking forward to meeting you.”
“Oh my god, Royal, I can’t do this.”
“You can. You will. You’re strong, Leah. Stronger than you know. Perfect for me.” He silences me again with his tongue.
“Cookies,” I gasp when I come up for air. “I need to bake something. Now.”
“All right, principessa,” he murmurs against my mouth. “You can bake something. You can do whatever you like, as long as you stay with me.”