to remember that.”
That could be bad.
Really, really good, but then bad.
Walking downstairs, dinner was already on the table. My stomach growled at the scent. I started pulling out my chair, but Maximo snagged me first, tugging me into his lap.
“What’re you doing?” I asked.
Keeping an arm around me, he used his free one to grab his fork. “I like you on my lap.”
“Another rule?”
“Yes.”
I reached for my fork and froze.
My place setting was already in front of me. Not at the other chair but positioned right next to Maximo’s. Like Freddy knew I’d be sitting on Maximo’s lap.
How often has this happened?
Jealousy swelled in my stomach, the black tendrils weaving through me, its roots taking hold. No matter how much I tried to shake the thoughts, they burrowed deeper.
I had no clue how many partners he’d had or how many other little doves he’d been Daddy to. I didn’t want to know. But the idea it’d been a regular enough occurrence that Freddy knew to rearrange the settings bothered me.
A lot.
It doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter.
Don’t be stupid and dramatic.
He hasn’t been with anyone for a year. What happened before me doesn’t matter.
“What’s wrong?” Of course he noticed my body going tense.
Forcing myself to loosen, I picked up my fork and stabbed the salad. “Nothing, why?”
“You know how I feel about lying. Do you need another ten?”
“Nope, definitely not.”
Curling his hand around the side of my neck, he tilted my head so I was forced to meet his eyes. “Then what’s wrong?”
I scrambled for an excuse. Anything. Literally, any half-plausible reason would work.
But I came up empty.
“I asked you a question, and I expect an answer.”
Unable to meet his eyes, I focused to the side when I muttered, “My place setting was already here.”
“And? Juliet, I told you things would be done my way. I’m not going to ask unless it’s something major and even then, I likely won’t.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Jealous—and frustrated with myself for being jealous—I explained, “Freddy knew to put my plate here.”
“Yes, because I told him to.”
“You did?”
“I knew you closed the door, which meant I knew dinner would be delayed. I told him we’d be a half-hour late and how to set the table. What does that have to do with why you’re upset?”
“I thought…” I averted my eyes again as I rushed, “I thought he set it like this because it was your usual routine.”
His brows lowered before understanding hit him.
And when his stupid sexy mouth curved in a stupid sexy smirk, I wanted to hit him, too.
“You were jealous,” he stated.
I opened my mouth to deny it, but then I caught the expectant gleam in his eyes.
He wanted me to lie because he wanted to punish me.
I pressed my lips together.
“Lies by omission are still lies, Juliet.”
“You didn’t ask a question,” I pointed out.
“True. Were you jealous?”
Shit.
“Yes.”
But he didn’t leave it at that. “Why?”
“Because I didn’t like the idea this has happened with other women so frequently, Freddy knew what to do.” Despite not having eaten the bite on my fork, I stabbed more lettuce just for an excuse to stab something.
“I like you jealous.”
My startled gaze shot to him to see if he was being sarcastic. “You do?”
He lifted his chin. “It’s good for my unreal, massive ego to know you’re as possessive of me as I am of you.”
“You get jealous?”
I wasn’t sure why that surprised me so much. Maybe because he was usually so cool and collected to the point of frigid aloofness. Or because he could get any woman he wanted with a crook of his skilled finger and smirk of his sinful lips. Actually, it wouldn’t even take that much.
Or because he was all he was and I was just… well, me.
His thumb rubbed along my jaw. “Of everyone who’s lucky enough to look at you.”
The tendrils of jealousy in my stomach turned to melty goodness at his sweet words.
But he wasn’t done. “I told you I’ve never slept in the same bed with a woman, which was easy because I’ve never brought women here. Not for dinner or anything else. Understand?”
I nodded.
“Good. Even though I like your jealousy, I don’t like you upset. Talk to me. Don’t let shit fester.”
After a moment, I asked, “You already knew I closed the door?” At his chin lift, I asked, “How?”
“Marco.”
That rat.
He dropped his hand from my neck and picked his fork up. Tapping my plate, he ordered, “Eat.”
I finally ate the salad I’d been murdering. After a few