The Scotch Series: The Complete Series (Scotch #1-3) - Penelope Sky Page 0,155

held me close to his chest then pressed a kiss against my temple, a sign of affection he rarely showed. He didn’t mention what happened when we made love. I didn’t mention it either. I wasn’t sure if there was anything to say.

I had him right where I wanted him.

I hadn’t thought I’d ever be able to accomplish it.

Making him fall in love with me.

Now I felt innately evil, tricking him into feelings he may not have felt otherwise. I fucked him for months straight, being every fantasy he ever had. I never pushed him on topics that made him uncomfortable, and I was the confidant every man dreamed of. I put aside my own freedom, my sassy comebacks to focus on what was important.

Getting out of there.

But now, it didn’t feel like a prison. He didn’t feel like a monster. I missed him when he was gone all day. I loved sleeping beside him. I judged myself for softening for a man cruel enough to keep me as his prisoner for six months, but most of it was out of my control. A part of me even wanted to stay.

But I refused to accept that fate.

I just had to figure out my next move. I’d never given it much thought because I didn’t think I’d ever get this far. I never thought Crewe would look me in the eye and tell me he loved me.

It was unbelievable.

It rained the next day, so I had nothing to do but stay inside and listen to it pour. Crewe had a private gym, but I preferred to work out outside underneath the blue sky. It made me feel like I had freedom, even if it was wishful thinking.

I cleaned the quarters since I had nothing else to do and took care of Crewe’s laundry. I always hoped I would come across the transmitter that was remotely linked to the bomb in Joseph’s head, but now that I knew it was all a hoax, I stopped caring about it.

I couldn’t believe he’d lied to me for this long.

If he loved me, why hadn’t he told me the truth? Why hadn’t he offered to let me go? To let me be a private citizen again with my own life? Why was he still keeping me here like this? Was it really love? Or was it just habit?

I wasn’t sure.

The fact that he hadn’t come clean about anything just hardened my resolve. My heart throbbed when he said those words to me, making me feel higher than a kite, but now I was yanked back down to earth where my shoes hit the hard ground.

His love wasn’t enough to give me what I deserved.

The truth.

I walked downstairs in one of the dresses Dimitri had placed in my closet, my hair done and my makeup light. Crewe never said it, but I knew he preferred it when I wore minimal makeup, usually just mascara and a small amount of foundation. He preferred the natural look as opposed to the supermodel look.

I hadn’t seen Ariel since their big fight, and I hoped I didn’t cross her path anytime soon. The woman wasn’t stupid, and she knew I was up to no good. Actually, she hit the nail right on the head. Any interaction with her could just stir up her suspicion.

I approached Crewe’s door and came face-to-face with Dimitri. “Can I see him?” I had to check in with his personal bodyguard anytime I wanted anything. I would normally have a thing or two to say about it, but since Crewe’s affection was more important than my attitude, I bit my tongue.

Dimitri didn’t say a word before he disappeared inside the office. He came back a moment later. “He’ll see you now.”

“Thanks.” I held back the sarcasm before I walked inside.

“Dimitri?” Crewe didn’t look up from his desk as he was finishing signing a document.

“Sir?” Dimitri said.

“Lady London can come and go as she pleases.” He grabbed another paper and signed the bottom in one quick motion.

Dimitri nodded before he walked out.

I tried not to smile at Crewe’s offer, knowing he gave me power no one else in this castle had.

He finished what he was doing and met my gaze, looking handsome in his gray suit and black tie. A glass of water sat on his desk, his scotch nowhere in sight. He even gave me a slight smile, the kind that reached his eyes. “What can I do for you?”

I sauntered to his table, my hips