With a roll of her eyes, she admitted, “My dad tried to make me promise that I wouldn’t go after Wayman alone, but my mom is so grief stricken. I have to try and give her whatever comfort I can. That killer behind bars would help.”
Drawing in a deep breath, Jason tried to pull back on his anger. Gia’s sense of good and right wouldn’t allow her to sit this manhunt out. Funny how the determination and rectitude that had drawn him to her had become the very things he wanted to throttle her for.
“I understand.”
Gia hesitated. “You do?”
“It’s hard to see people you care for in pain, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “Excruciating.”
Jason couldn’t agree more, and though logic told him that her circumstances shouldn’t matter, he couldn’t ignore her anguish. “Eat your dinner before it gets cold.”
She exhaled and seemed to deflate altogether. “I’m not hungry.”
“That isn’t a request.” He sent her a stern glare.
“Of course it isn’t. And people always obey you.”
“Generally, yes. I won’t apologize for it, especially when it’s for your well-being.”
And Jason refused to say another word until she’d consumed at least half of the food on her plate, even giving him a low moan at the tastiness of the bread.
When they’d finished, he took her plate and padded downstairs, leaving the dishes in the sink. His maid would be in come morning to take care of the mess.
He pulled the refrigerator open and lifted one large crystal cup, then grabbed a single spoon from the drawer and headed back upstairs, mentally weighing the evening’s events.
As he made his way to the bedroom again, he was unpleasantly surprised to find Gia no longer in his bed. After setting the items he held aside, he visually swept the room and sighed in relief. She stood at the window and stared out, looking at the sky lit night and the urban sprawl giving way to suburbia farther north. His wife might be physically in the room with him, but she was really a million miles away.
“What’s wrong?”
She jerked back to attention and shook her head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
As she turned to face him, her expression looked neutral, all traces of whatever or whomever she’d been thinking about gone. He held in a snarl of frustration.
“Sit for me.”
Dragging her feet, Gia did as he bid, stopping at the edge of the bed. “Naked, I presume? Now that you’ve done your Domly duty and seen to my needs, you’re intending to see to yours, right? Is this the part of the evening where you nail me into the mattress?”
Jason felt his ire rise. Then he caught onto her game. “Trying to make me feel guilty for this arrangement will neither anger nor upset me enough to halt it. I made you an offer. You accepted. End of story.”
She gave him a little huff. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
To hear her admit that she had no idea why he might want to spend time with her bugged the hell out of him. It also told him that she’d given up on them already. Somewhere in the back of his head, he’d known that, but it bothered him all the same. “I have my reasons and I’m not obligated to share them. You’re my submissive for now—”
“Oh, just say it. I’m your whore and you’re getting off on exercising your control over me.”
Jason froze. It took everything inside him not to rise to her bait. “If that’s how you choose to see the situation, I can’t stop you. I merely asked you to sit on the bed. I’m still waiting.”
“Fine.” She tossed herself onto the mattress and sat against the pillows, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Thank you. Now hold your arms up at your sides.”
Her dark eyes flashed suspiciously. She narrowed them as if trying to guess his intent. Finally, she complied, holding them straight out from her shoulders, almost as if opening her arms to him…but not quite.
Jason reached behind his headboard and plucked at a padded wrist cuff, attached to an adjustable chain, then secured it around his wife’s wrist.
Gasping, she drilled him with a shocked stare. “What the hell?”