Page 40 of Darkest Before Dawn (His Perfect Darkness #2)

He rolls, planting me face down in the bed and spreading my legs. He spanks my bottom next, each slap sending me higher.

Then he’s pushing into me, and oh, it’s so good. He’s rough, his fingers biting into my hips, thrusting hard enough to make the movements make my clit rub against the bed, and I scream, thrashing. He pins me and makes me take it.

And then we do it again. We spend the day in a scene, napping and cuddling when we need to. Twilight finds me soaking in the bath. Rex ordered all manner of bath salts for me to sample. I tried to get him to join me, but he refused.

He comes in now, dressed in his business suit, knotting his tie.

“I have to go. Press conference.”

I lay my head on the rim of the bathtub, trying not to pout and burden him with my reluctance to let him leave. I know being Rex Roy in public sucks for him. “Or you could stay here with me. . .”

“I need to go play the part of grieving widower in public. Really sell this.”

Ugh, that’s going to be awful. I’m glad I get to play dead. “You could be the sort of billionaire who becomes a recluse. Someone who retreats from all human contact.”

“Tempting. But not tonight. Nadia will have my head.”

I sink into the bubbles to hide my smile. It’s nice to know there’s someone my husband will obey.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He says it like a vow, and I nod. I believe him.

“Will you be okay?”

“Of course.” I wave a hand, flicking scented bubbles down the bath.

“All right. I love you.”

I suck in a breath. It’s still a shock to hear it. He hasn’t insisted I say it back, but I want to. At the right time.

There is something I can give him. “Rex. . . when this is all over. I’d like a wedding.”

He tilts his head. “A ceremony?”

“Let’s make it official. I’d like to invite Lacy. And Mina,” I add. It’s about time I met my online friend in real life.

“Done. We can do it at the house.”

My mouth falls open, but I get an instant flash of the future—me in a white dress, holding a bouquet of yellow roses under a trellis of jasmine vines, Roy Manor looming in the background. “I was thinking of something small. . .”

“You’re married to a Roy. We don’t do small.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. “I accept your proposal, wife.”

I roll my eyes. Of course he’d take my request as a win. Proof that I want to stay married.

“It might be difficult because I’m supposed to be dead.”

“We’ll figure all that out. After.”

After BK is behind bars, he means.

“Come back soon,” I call. I should be grateful to get some time alone with the case, but a sense of foreboding comes over me. Not a premonition, just a feeling that I want him by my side.

He pauses at the door, his body cut through, half in light, half in shadow. “I will.”

He leaves, and I take my time getting out of the bath. This time, Rex left a number of marks on my skin, and I get to catalog them at my leisure.

I dress in jeans and a sweater and head to my situation room.

Rex already ordered room service, so I eat while I go back to working on the case.

I chomp on a burger and switch on the TV, thinking I’ll put on Rex’s press conference but just leave it on mute.

I want to see him, but the notion of me being dead is more depressing than I thought it would be.

I’m immersed in Lacy’s murder book when a phone rings, interrupting my focus.

It’s my cell. I reach for it automatically, but it cuts off after one strangled ring, and I remember I’m not supposed to answer. Once the news announced my demise, the wave of calls from people checking on me died away.

The phone lights up again with another call. I check the screen to see who’s so insistent.

Burgess calling.

The room spins around me, and I blink against the vertigo. Chills go up and down my arms.

It’s not him. Burgess died. I can still see Rex lifting my former partner up by the neck. And even if he did survive that, he was then blown to bits. Right?

The phone goes silent, then lights up again. Burgess calling.

My thumb hovers over the button to answer, but I hesitate too long. The call ends.

But I have to know who’s calling. I hit redial and wait.

“Hello?” It’s a man’s voice, and for a disorienting second, I think it’s Burgess.

“Who’s this?” I make my voice harsh.

“It’s Ted.”

“Ted?” I scrape my memory and finally remember—the man in the bathroom at the ball. So much has happened between now and then. “How did you get this number?”

“He gave it to me.” He, meaning the Bondage Killer. “He said the man who had it let him down.”

The man would be Burgess. Burgess was working with the Bondage Killer. But now BK has Burgess’s phone, which means. . .

He was there. At the warehouse.

“He said I needed to call Detective Ramos. Are you her?”

I take a chance. I have a connection to BK and need to follow it as much as I can. “Yes.”

“Oh, thank gods.” Ted sounds like he’s about to cry. “I thought it was all over for me. The news said you’d died.”

I lick my lips, trying to think of an explanation, but Ted doesn’t stop talking. “He’s got my family. He said you have to come, or he’ll kill them.”