He shrugged. “Your choice. This place is big enough for the both of us. You sleep in my bed. You don’t.” He shrugged again. “Your choice. I like my space. You fuck me. You don’t. That’s your choice. That’s the one thing I’d never steal.”
He took a second, staring me down, before he spoke again. “I don't have a heart, which means no feelings, but I do have a brain. The same one I use to read all of these books. I know the difference between willing or not. ‘Not’ doesn’t get a real man hard, darlin’.” He released me from his stare, about to walk out, when he stopped and turned to me. “There is one choice you don’t have. You’ll eat dinner with me. Every night.”
“Eat dinner with you,” I repeated. More like blurted out.
“Every night.”
“Sometimes rehearsals run late.”
“I’ll wait.”
Then he left me alone in the library with a heart made of metal.
14
Keely
It took me a second to realize that I stood in the library alone, one hand clutching the dress, the other squeezing the metal heart.
What the fuck had gotten into him?
Eat dinner with me. Every night.
Of all the things…
Dinner.
It seemed so domesticated. Did he expect me to cook, too? I shook my head, trying to fling some of the chaotic thoughts out. It was a job trying to keep up with him, but one thing I knew for certain.
He claimed he had no heart. No feelings.
I was going to change that.
Not him, but the fact that he thought he was invincible. That he was immune to catching feelings.
He knew my attraction to him was an easy tool to steal my heart. That device worked both ways. His obvious attraction to me was a way for me to get inside of his head, and for once in his life, make him realize that he did have a heart. That he wasn’t untouchable.
The block party was proof that he wasn't as heartless as he claimed to be. After spending time with “his” community, I understood why Scott had threatened to destroy his soul. Hell’s Kitchen. It was the only thing Kelly claimed as his. Maybe even loved.
Why did it matter so much to him? What made it so special?
Finding my way out of the library and into the bedroom that had all of my things, I slipped out of my wedding dress and decided to take a shower.
My night with Cash Kelly wasn’t over yet, though.
After the water ran cold and the usual nightly rituals were done, I slipped on a silk emerald robe and went looking for him. I didn’t even bother to knock when I came to his bedroom door.
As expected, the room was huge, but with little furniture or even knickknacks. There was one photograph in an older-looking frame. I assumed the man in the picture was his father. I’d met his widow, Molly, at the block party.
“Empty,” I whispered, looking around once more. The biggest thing in Kelly’s room was his bed. It looked comfy, and wide enough for two. “Just like the heart he claims not to have.”
A distinctive scent lingered in the air, different from his, and I followed it to the glass doors that led out to the fire escape. It was more like a balcony overlooking New York. Kelly sat in a leather lounge chair, his back to me, his feet propped up against the railing. He was blowing smoke rings out of his mouth.
“Isn’t that how it starts?” I said, invading his personal space. When I stood next to him, he looked up at me, and I nodded toward the cigar in his hand stuffed with something other than tobacco.
“Are we speaking in rhymes now, darlin’?”
“Addictions,” I said. “That’s how addictions start.”
He looked away from me. “Nothing in this world has power over me. I’m addicted to nothing or no one.”
We’ll see about that, Kelly. Internally, the villainous bitch inside of me grinned.
Externally, he matched my grin, the villainous bastard inside of him seeming to read my mind.
Fucking perfect. Listen up, Marauder. I never pick truth, either. And I’m out to prove you wrong, for once in your life.
He leaned his head back and blew a smoke ring toward the sky. “It’s medicinal. It helps me relax.” He blew out a wider one. “I get headaches somethin’ terrible. It eases those, too.”
“Not even twenty-four hours married and you’re already needing something to help you relax from a headache. I would’ve said drinking—” I nodded toward the empty glass on