a one-time thing?”
“No.”
He wraps his lips around a piece of meat. I gulp at the sensual way his mouth slides over the fork before he chews leisurely, like this is some eating porn show.
I internally shake my head. Did I just see Jonathan in an erotic way? What in the ever-loving hell?
“Why don’t you tell me what you think this will be, Aurora?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“All I know is that I want to get on with it instead of wasting time on food and nonsense.”
“If you don’t watch that mouth, I’ll fuck it right here, right now.”
My breathing shortens and I stare at him with wild eyes, my attention involuntarily slipping down…
Down…
I jerk my head back up, refusing to entertain that idea. Problem is, he’s painted that crude image in my head and now I can’t purge it out.
Not that I didn’t suspect Jonathan to be crude. His voice was created to command and say dirty things. However, I hadn’t thought it would be to this extent, and the sudden attack isn’t helping my bemused head.
“Now eat.” He fixes me with a blank stare as if he didn’t just spout those earlier words. “Or would you rather I fill your mouth with something else?”
My unsteady hand reaches for the fork and I inhale deeply to collect my bearings. I take the first bite of salad, trying to forget that a larger-than-life presence is watching my every move. It’s like he’s a scientist and I’m the rat in his lab.
I lift my head. “Now what?”
“Now, you eat.”
“And then what?”
“And then I decide. After all, you’re mine now and I get to do whatever I please.”
I grit my teeth. “I’m not your toy.”
“Oh, but you are, wild one.”
A million profanities form in my head, but I don’t say them. My being agitated will only give him the upper hand, and I can’t give him more than he’s already confiscated.
I hate that I have to consider my every word when dealing with Jonathan. If I don’t, he’ll twist them up and either use them against me or throw them back in my face.
That’s why I need to be cool-headed about this.
“No other people,” I say my first condition in the calmest tone I can manage under the circumstances. I won’t be a side dish, and I sure as hell won’t be compared to anyone else.
He takes a moment to focus on cutting his food, and I’m ready to bet a limb that he’s doing it on purpose. It’s like he uses everything as a weapon – silence included. It takes long, infuriating beats before he nods.
“I also want a time limit.”
“Time limit?”
“Yes. If I’m going to agree to this, I need a time limit, after which you’ll let me go and give me the stocks back.”
He smiles, and this time, it’s neither sadistic nor genuine. It’s something different, almost like…pride? No, why would Jonathan ever be proud of me?
He chews slowly on his meat, intentionally keeping me on edge again, before he speaks, “I was wondering when you’d ask that. What did you have in mind?”
“A month. I’ll be yours for a month to do whatever you please, and then you’ll let me go and revert H&H’s ownership back to Layla and me.”
“A year.”
I meet his impenetrable gaze with mine. “Three months.”
“Six. My final offer.”
“Fine.”
It’s better than what I would’ve hoped for. At least it’s not a year in the company of this tyrant. This time will give me ample space to investigate Alicia’s life here and try to solve the mystery of who threatened to kill her.
“You’ll stay here.”
“I have a flat.”
“And I’m telling you that you won’t live in it anymore. At least for the next six months. I expect you to move in tomorrow.”
The arsehole. It’s like a dictator’s regime around here.
“Anything else, your majesty?”
“Yes. Lose the attitude. I don’t appreciate it.”
“You should’ve included that in the clauses. You want to keep me? This is me, Jonathan, attitude and all. I’m not the little girl who hid behind Alicia’s dress.”
He’s silent for a bit, watching me closely as if he’s meeting me for the first time. “I can see that.”
I stand up. “Can I go now?”
“Not so fast.” He motions at me to come to him.
I hesitate before I approach him until his woodsy scent is all I breathe in. He has the power to own everyone and everything in his immediate vicinity. It’s less about his last name and more about his presence.
“Lift your dress.”
“W-what?”
“Do it.”
“Didn’t you