Page 20

“I am not marrying you.” Megan’s voice barely rises over the sound of the heat blowing from the vents of my Bentley.

“I heard you the first dozen times you’ve said it.” I turn the heat down to a lower setting now that the car’s properly warmed. In her haste to get to the doctor with my sister, she hadn’t brought a jacket, and the fall air is crisp.

“I’m serious. I need to be sure you understand. I will not marry you.” She turns in her seat to look at me.

“I understand you think that. Yes.” I turn down the alley leading to Pulse.

Megan’s determination to get her ass punished continues to amaze me. Getting my sister to take her out of the house and then to a doctor that would give her birth control? My jaw clenches thinking about it.

“I’m serious, Alexander. It’s not happening.”

Ignoring her for the moment, I pull into the underground garage. I park next to Ivan’s Aston Martin and turn off the ignition, grabbing her arm before she can think to get out of the car.

“Are we at Obsidian?” she asks, ducking her head and looking around the garage. It’s only large enough for half a dozen cars. It’s not meant for general parking.

“I have a meeting that I couldn’t push in order to take you home, so you’ll stay in my office.” I put a finger up. “In my office and nowhere else, do you understand me?”

She rolls her eyes. “You know, if you’d just let me go, you wouldn’t have to worry about where I was or what I was doing all the time.”

While it’s a fair point, it’s irrelevant. She’s not going anywhere.

Marco DeAngelo won’t just kill her if he gets his hands on her now. He’ll hurt her, torture her, do all sorts of horrible things to her before he considers killing her.

“I don’t have to worry now either. Because you’re going to stay in my office like a good girl.”

Another eye roll. She’s only been with Elana for half a day and already the attitude is wearing off on her. And Megan had plenty of her own to start with.

“Are you going to let me go home like a good boy?” She twists her lips into a sarcastic grin, like she’s just won some contest.

Wrapping my hand around her throat, I drag her toward me, putting just enough pressure for her to feel the power I have over her breathing. Her eyes widen. The black of her pupils wash away those pretty irises of hers just as my mouth crushes hers.

Fuck, she’s an addiction. There’s fear here, just the tiniest bit, but enough for me to want to feast on her. But it’s more than that. It’s the sweetness of her, the beautiful way her body softens beneath my strength.

When I break the kiss, her eyes flitter open and find mine. I squeeze her throat, just a fraction.

“Never for a second think I’m anything more than what I am.” It’s a warning.

“You’re an asshole.” She blinks and a tear slips down her cheek. I release her throat and wipe the tear away with my thumb, bringing it to my lips and licking the salty moisture.

“Worse.” I pop open my door. “I’m the asshole who’s going to marry you.”

I climb out of the car and round the back to her side before she can get the door open.

“There has to be another way.” She accepts my hand when I offer it to help her out, then quickly drops it. “I’ll figure out something else.”

I cup her elbow and lead her to the entrance of Obsidian. There’s no point to this discussion. She’s not going anywhere. She’s not going to figure out anything. She’s going to be my wife, and the sooner she accepts it, the better.

“Don’t the police ever want to come in here and see what’s going on?” she asks as we walk down the corridor to my office. Her fingers drag along the stone wall.

“No.”

“What happens down there exactly?” She stops at the winding staircase that would bring her down to the heart of the club. I tug her along.

“Nothing you need to know about because you’re going to stay in my office. Right?” I squeeze her elbow.

A sigh is her only reply.

“Marco’s expecting me to pay the money he says Mira owes. As far as he knows, I don’t even know about this Dexter guy being dead. And you said yourself it was heart attack.”

“I said it’s being covered up as a heart attack.”

“Well, either way. How would I know if it’s a cover-up? I wouldn’t. So, I really only have the one problem of the money.” The faint scent of my soap hits me as she sweeps past me and into my office.

I like having my scent on her. I was going to have her give the housekeeper a list of things she wanted from the store, shampoos, lotions, and such, but I might have to rethink that idea.

“And do you have the money he says you owe him?” I shut the door behind me and lean against it as she paces around the room, inspecting her surroundings.

“No.” She pauses at the painting hanging on the wall of my family home back in Russia. My mother had it commissioned before my father proved himself to be the bastard that he was.

“Then I don’t see how your situation has improved.” I move across the room to stand beside her and point to the painting she’s admiring. “My father was raised there.”

“And you? Were you raised here?” she questions.

“Mostly. My father brought us here when I was a baby, but each summer he’d send my brothers and me back home to Russia to stay with our grandparents. I still return there during the summer to visit our family home.”

“That’s probably why your accent isn’t as thick as Gregor’s. It was hard to understand him sometimes, but I don’t even hear it with you most of the time.” Megan reminding me of her little adventure with my sister tenses my muscles. If DeAngelo had happened to see her while they were out, she could have been taken. Elana could have been hurt.

“Gregor only came to this country last year,” I say.

“Maybe I could work for you. Well, not for you, but the club? You know, until Mira pops back up.” She spins around so fast she knocks right into my chest. I grab hold of her arms and steady her so she doesn’t bounce onto the floor.

“Work for the club?” It’s not going to happen, but I have a few minutes before my meeting, and this might be amusing.

“Yeah. I can waitress, or I can work on the housekeeping staff, or I can—” She stops talking when I start shaking my head.

“No. To all of that.”

“Well, what about downstairs? You must have different staff down there, and I bet I could make more money down there than up here anyway.”

Red blurs the edges of my vision at the idea of her being down there with all the men who enjoy their time there.

“No.” I drop the word hard so there’s no mistaking my meaning.

“Then I can get a loan. My credit score is better than it was before; I’m sure I can get a personal loan. Then I— Stop shaking your head at me. I’m trying to find a solution!”

“I’ve already told you the solution.” I move to my desk.

“Yes, but your solution is insane.”

Pulling open the bottom drawer, I glance up at her. “My solution keeps you alive.”

“There’s no reason for him to hurt me if I pay him back. You’re just trying to scare me into doing what you want. And why the hell would you want to marry me anyway?” She crosses her arms over her chest and sticks out a hip.

“You have a point. You’re stubborn beyond reason, disobedient, and reckless with your safety.” I tick off each item with a finger as her cheeks redden.

“You see, you don’t want to marry me,” she insists, her hands fisted at her sides. “Then why not just let me go!”

I go back to looking through my drawer until I find what I need and pull it out, shoving the drawer closed.

“Because.”

Her eyes widen with my answer, and it’s almost too fucking sexy to ignore. She might actually explode one of these times.

“Because?” Her left eye twitches a little at the corner.

“Yes.” I give a hard nod and bring the coil of rope into her line of sight. “Now. Are you going to promise me that you’ll stay here in my office while I’m gone?”

Her eyes narrow on the rope.

“Are you threatening to tie me up?” She points at the hemp rope coiled in my hands. Her anger bubbles up again. “Who keeps rope in their desk drawer!?”

“Considering the afternoon you had, do you blame me?” I put the rope on the table beside an armchair. “Promise you’ll stay in here, and I won’t have to use it.”

“You’d believe me if I promised?” She’s right. So far, she hasn’t given me any reason to trust her.

“I could just tie you up, but I’m giving you a chance here.” If she only understood what a rare thing this is. Then maybe she’d stop looking as though I’ve grown a second head.

The door to my office swings open and Ivan waltzes in, pausing when he sees the scene before him.

“I’m interrupting.” He doesn’t leave. Of course he doesn’t. He probably finds this entire thing fucking hilarious.

One day he’ll have a woman who drives him insane the way this one does me. And when he does, he’ll understand why letting her go just isn’t a fucking option.

She swings her gaze over to him and immediately softens, gifting him with a sweet smile.

“Hey, Ivan.”

“Megan.” He nods. “How’s the ankle?”

“It’s better,” she answers. The wheels are turning in that beautiful mind of hers.

“He’s not going to assist you.” I check my watch. Our meeting will be here soon, and I still haven’t gotten her reassurance that she’ll stay put.

“I wasn’t going to ask him,” she snaps. “Where’s Elana? Is she here too? Maybe she can wait with me.”

“My other brother, Kaz, took her home. You two aren’t exactly the best influences on each other,” I explain. In the car, she’d assumed Elana was with Gregor and I didn’t correct her.

“So, you’re going to keep the only sane person I currently know away from me?”

I can practically hear Ivan’s arrogant grin behind me.

“If that’s what you want to believe.” I lift a shoulder. “We have a meeting to get to. Stay here, unless you’d like me to use that.” I point to the rope.

She folds her arms across her chest and plops down into the armchair, crossing her legs.

“I’ll sit here like a good little prisoner.”

“Fiancée,” I point out. “You’re not my prisoner anymore; you’re my fiancée.”

She blusters, then looks away. “Just go to your meeting. When you come to your senses, let me know.”

Not willing to miss my chance, I lean over her, cupping her chin and forcing her pretty blue eyes on me.

“Be a good girl and I’ll make you scream with pleasure.” I brush my lips across hers, then bring them to her ear. “But be a naughty girl and I’ll make you cry with regret.”

I press another kiss her to cheek and leave her sitting on the chair. Ivan arches an eyebrow when I pass him, but he follows without comment, shutting the door behind us.

“You think she’ll stay put?” he asks as we reach the lounge at the far end of the corridor.

“Not a chance.”