“Prentice?” she called.
His laughter died away and his head tipped back to look at her.
“He disinherited you. That’s rich. I love that. What an unbelievable ass.”
He wasn’t wrong about that. And he didn’t love it at all. He was angry on her behalf.
Oh dear.
She was beginning to think she was in trouble.
Prentice fell silent. Isabella couldn’t cope with silence.
“I told him I never wanted him to come near me again,” Isabella informed him.
Prentice’s thumb stroked her jaw and his voice lost its edge when he muttered his warning, “Don’t expect him to adhere to your wishes, Elle. That man will do whatever he damn well wants to do.”
She suspected Prentice was right.
However, it was time for another topic.
“What were you doing in my rooms?”
He dropped to his side but his arms came around her and rolled her to hers, facing him. One of his hands drifted up her back into her hair and he pressed her cheek to his chest.
“I came home, saw a light coming down the hall, heard the television on. I came up to talk to you and saw you were asleep. I turned off the telly and you started to move, like shudders, like you were cold. Then they got worse. Then you were making these noises, like you were terrified. That’s when I woke you.”
Well, that made sense. It was horrifying he saw that but it made sense.
“I’m sorry you saw that,” she whispered.
He was silent.
She took in a breath. Then she screwed up her courage.
This took awhile.
Finally, she said, “We should talk about –”
She didn’t finish.
His hand twisted in her hair, gripping it, he pulled her head back and his own came down, his lips finding hers and he kissed her.
His hands started roaming.
Then his lips started roaming.
Then his tongue started roaming.
A long time later, after he made her come with his mouth between her legs and she helped him come by opening those legs for him and taking him inside, he tucked her back into his front and held her close.
“Pren –”
“Quiet.”
“But –”
“Sleep.”