Page 178 of Carnal Games

“Have you ever been in the past?”

“Never had a reason.”

Gaze sparkling, she turns her head away, but not before I catch her blush. Tracing the tattoo on my arm, she says, “Men usually hate spooning.”

Tangling my fist in her hair, I pull and bring her eyes to mine. “I don’t want to hear about your past experiences with other men, Iris. I can barely stand Nathan’s claim on you, and he’s my brother. Had it been any other man, they wouldn’t be breathing right now. So don’t compare me to them or mention them, for their safety.”

Lips parting in a wide O, she stares at me, stunned and speechless.

I wait for the fear to trespass in her eyes at my blatant promise disguised as a threat, but all I see is a fire and possessiveness that rivals my own.

“I won’t mention them.”

“Good girl,” I praise. Trailing my hand down to her waist, I demand, “Now put your arms around me and cuddle me.”

“Yes, sir,” she purrs.

“Careful. Or this won’t just be snuggling anymore.”

Red tints her cheeks before she wraps herself around me, laying her face sideways. Protectiveness surges as seconds later, her breathing evens out.

***

I let Iris shower and get dressed in her room, sticking to my promise. In the kitchen, I make her tea and a coffee for myself. From the cupboard, I pull out her favorite snack that she refuses to have a beverage without in the mornings.

The sound of the front door opening and closing has me pausing. Alarm spreading at who it is, I swiftly move toward the hallway when a tall woman in a pale-yellow uniform appears in the living room.

I relax, realizing it’s my housekeeper who comes in a few times a week. I’m never home when she arrives, which is why it slipped my mind that she works for me.

She jumps upon seeing me, panic setting in, and rushes to say, “Oh, so sorry, Mr. Singhania. I didn’t know you’d be home.”

“It’s fine.”

Her expression softens as she hesitantly asks, “Is everything okay?”

“Yes.” I frown, taken aback. “Why?”

She jerks back. “I didn’t mean to pry. In all the time I’ve worked here, I’ve never run into you.”

“Everything’s good. I’m going late to the office today.” Taking a step back, I excuse myself. “I’ll let you be.”

The tea and coffee are ready. I pour them into cups and walk to the dining table. As I set it down, Iris rounds the corner, stopping me in my tracks.

The same sexy dress for which I reprimanded her in my office a couple weeks ago clings to her petite frame. It has thesame effect on me as the last time. Her lush hair hanging loose around her shoulders, makeup light with dark pink lipstick, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

Her heels—matching the floral number she’s rocking—click on the floor as she reaches my side. I pull her to me, desperate to touch her. “Forgot laundry again?”

“Yeah.” She giggles, running a finger down my tie.

Before I can ask why she isn’t wearing the heels with the bow, a new set of footsteps joins us from behind. Noticing the woman, Iris faces her and brightly greets, “Hey, Sonya. You’re here early.”

I’m perplexed.

They’re on a first-name basis?

“Hello, Iris. I have another client in the afternoon. So, I thought to finish up here first,” replies Sonya. “Please continue your breakfast. I won’t disturb you.”

Iris, too polite and caring, offers, “Would you like some tea?”