“We need to talk about this,” he went on.
She shook her head and asked, “Why? I promise to be good, do as you say. Anything you want, I’ll do I. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
No, it wasn’t what he f**king wanted.
He wanted her trust, her acceptance of his power, his dominance, not to wield it against her, but to use it to keep her safe, protected, nurtured, thriving.
“You don’t understand,” he told her.
“Do you want me to understand?” she asked.
“Yes, I f**king do.”
Her eyes locked on his, hers were still lifeless. “Then of course I’ll listen. Whatever you want, Lucien.”
Blinding rage wrenched through him. At that moment, he didn’t know if he was furious at Leah or himself. This mingled with the bizarre, twisting pain and it took every effort not tear the room apart.
He watched her waiting expectantly and pulled in breath through his nose.
He knew he didn’t have the control to deal with this tonight. He needed to seek calm and deal with this rationally not when he wanted to throw the lounge through the window.
“We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
She nodded and asked, “Do you mind if I go back to sleep?”
He drew another breath into his nostrils, attempting to keep a tight rein on his temper, which, fortunately worked.
“You don’t have to ask me to sleep.”
She nodded again, whispered, “Okay,” then rolled to her side, tucking her hands under her cheek again and closing her eyes. “Goodnight, Lucien,” she told her pillow.
His hold on his temper slipped and he growled. Her eyes snapped open and her head started to twist to look at him but he buried his face in her neck as his arms wrapped tight around her.
“You undo me, pet,” he muttered there, seeking solace in her warm, soft body, anything that might subdue that twisting pain.
He felt her grow still before she relaxed then, softly, she admitted, “I don’t know if I can redo you.”
Her words were so absurd, in spite of his anger, his smiled into her neck.
She kept talking. “But I think to redo you, I’d have to figure out how to redo me and that ship has finally sailed.”
His smile died and her head tilted forward, not to refuse him access to her neck but settling into sleep.
“It’s for the best,” she whispered as he lifted his head to watch her tired face. “I was always driving everyone crazy with my personality defects. Aunt Kate’s going to be thrilled.”
Her words made the burning pain intensify considerably.
“Leah, stop talking,” Lucien ordered.
“Okay,” she said then her eyes flew open and to the side and she said, “That’s speaking. Sorry. No, I mean… sorry!” Then she pressed her lips together and turned her face into the pillow.
Lucien didn’t know whether to laugh or to shout.
What he did know was that Kitty was a very bad idea.
He settled behind her, pulling her deeper into his body, something she didn’t resist, and pressing his face into her thick, soft hair.
He had thought Leah had been broken before and he’d been wrong. He took in a deep breath deciding that he’d see what tomorrow might bring.