Page 51 of Hush Darling

“No. I’m sorry.”

“I suppose there’s only one way to find out if you’re telling me the truth.” He shoved her nightgown to her hips, and she locked her knees. “Open your legs.”

She froze, refusing to accept that this was her only choice.

He caught her by the throat. “That was a command, not a request.”

When she still didn’t move, his touch gentled, and he trailed his fingers over her throat. Jolted by such extreme polarity, she started to cry.

“Let me explain what happens to those who disobey me on my ship. First, they’re punished. Then, they’re taken to the lower deck, where they’re locked up in the dark. Their rations are less than everyone else’s, but there are plenty of rats, plenty of ways to keep from starving if one has the constitution to survive. Sometimes, my crew wanders off. They’re not the most moral of men. That far below-deck sound doesn’t always carry either.” He met her stare. “Now, let’s try this again. Open your legs.”

Wendy closed her eyes and forced her thighs to part, but even then, they only separated a mere inch. His investigation was deliberate and impersonal.

She gasped as his finger wedged inside of her.

“Stay still.” His gaze focused on the wall past her shoulder, his face close enough that she was tempted to bite him.

She whimpered at the bizarre sensation of having a stranger feel inside of her, and then the intrusion was gone.

“You told the truth.” He returned to his chair. “You’re a virgin.”

Her jaw hardened. “I have no reason to lie.”

He sat back and studied her. “If you’re so innocent, why were you at a lagoon party?”

“I was a guest. Technically, I wasn’t even invited. This entire night has been a long line of mistakes.”

“There are no mistakes.”

There was something untamed prowling beneath his polished exterior, something uncontrollable that warned her that laws didn’t apply to him. If this was some sort of ransom, she might be able to help him get what he wanted without endangering herself further.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“Do I look like someone who explains himself?”

“No,” she admitted. “But if I knew what you wanted, I could possibly make things less difficult. I do as I’m told—most of the time.”

“Only most of the time?” He leaned an arm over the back of the chair and arched a brow. “Tell me about a time when you did something you shouldn’t have.”

“I came here.”

“Something else. Something before today. Something you’ve never told anyone.”

Her mind blanked. “I can’t think of anything.”

“Try.” He swirled the wine in his glass. The scent alone was enough to intimidate her. “Has it come to you?”

Paralyzed by fear, she begged, “Please. I’ll be sick if you make me drink more.”

“I’m losing my patience.”

“I’m trying to think?—”

“Three…”

“I don’t have any secrets!”

“Two…”