The Proposal - Kitty Thomas Page 0,65

is reading a book. Or she's attempting to. She hasn't turned the page in over five minutes, so either she's pretending to read or she's reread the same paragraph twenty times. If ink could show wear on a book from being looked at too much, Livia's intense gaze would have melted several lines right off the page, leaving only blank space and a mystery behind.

She glances up, and I capture and hold her gaze in mine.

“Nervous?” I ask.

“A-about what?”

For months she's been distracted by the wedding planning and the wedding, too distracted to properly internalize the fact that three men are taking her on a jet out of the country to a honeymoon and a location she doesn't know any details about. Beyond the country, she has no idea where we're going or why we're going there. Dayne was responsible for those details since it's his resort we're going to. He's got someone else managing it for him and doing all the work, but he owns it and gets monthly reports on operations.

“Come with me,” I say.

“Where?”

Dayne and Griffin look up from their laptops. They watch her like I am watching her. I don't know how long this nervous uncertainty will last, but I want to drink up every last drop of it for as long as it does.

I glance to the back of the plane where the bedroom is, then to her. “You know where.” My cock pushes tight against my pants. She bites her lower lip when she notices my erection. She knows we're about to finish what I tried to start almost a year ago—that I will finally win this battle. Only this time it's better than the first because it won't just be the pilot and co-pilot who hear her come; it'll be Dayne and Griffin as well.

She turns to the guys as if hoping one of them will save her, but neither of them steps in to answer her silent pleas. They go back to their laptops, but they aren't working anymore. They're listening and waiting to see what will happen next.

I stand and move into her space just like I did almost a year ago. I tower over her, and her gaze drifts back to the guys on the other side of the plane.

“No,” I say. “Look at me. They won't help you.”

Her gaze drifts back to mine. I stroke her cheek. “I could just take it,” I say.

The look in her eyes is equal parts fear and arousal. She wants me to just take it. She wants me to throw her down on the bed and just take it. She's not brave enough yet to be that honest, but I got a taste of her last night. I know where she lives. I know she's not the vanilla suburban hell trying to trap me that I feared. She is my equal, my perfect match, my opposite polarity. She is the fire to my ice, the surrender to my conquest. She is perfect.

I lean down closer, my voice going lower. “Do you not remember the vows you spoke to me not twenty-four hours ago? How you promised to honor and obey me for the rest of your life?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Yes, what?”

A long tremulous breath flows out of her, and then she says in that same soft whisper, “Yes, Master.”

“Good girl, now come with me.”

I step back to give her space to obey me and extend my hand out to her. She takes it, color flooding her cheeks as she allows me to lead her back to the bedroom.

I lock the door when we get back there, not because I really need to, but because it pushes the final nail into the coffin, it puts hard punctuation on the end of the sentence.

“Now, where were we?” I say as if I'm picking things right back up where we left them now that I've fulfilled her requirements for letting me inside her, now that I've put a ring on her finger. And though I've already been inside her—and it was exquisite—this is the first time I've had the pleasure of taking her alone.

She's wearing a dress today—not the same dress she wore the night of the underwater restaurant date. This one is more of a casual flirty sundress, white with yellow flowers sweeping up along the flared base. Her shoes were left behind next to her seat so her feet are bare. She has light pink polish on her toes and a yellow flower painted on