Vance crosses to my bed, his chocolate loafers sinking into the plush carpet, and settles on the edge. I let out an inaudible sigh of relief at the space he leaves between us.
“Did you sleep well, my queen?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“If there’s anything you need to make your stay more comfortable, I trust you’ll let me know.”
“I will, thank you.” I sound like a broken record, my responses short and polite, but Vance makes me nervous. I can’t read him the way I could read the others.
With Liam, there was an almost instantaneous connection, unexplainable but as real as my uncle’s signature on the contract that sold my body and soul to a harem of sexy dominants. I left the House of Aries a fool, not grasping my role in the dynamics in this tower.
Then Mr. Bordeaux broke me in that first day, down in the dungeon with his unbending rules, and I learned of the harsh ground on which I stood with him, expectations laid bare.
My relationship with Landon was set in stone from birth, long before I knew it existed. If there’s any man in this place I can be myself with, it’s my brother.
But none of those experiences prepared me for Dr. Vance Morgan. I’m lost on how to behave around him as his presence intrudes upon my supposed privacy. Needing a distraction, I take a mental stroll around the room, pushing the uneasiness to the back of my mind to deal with later. My quarters in the House of Cancer fall somewhere between the luxury of Liam’s penthouse and the dinky room Mr. Bordeaux gave me for a month.
Just a bedroom, modest in square feet—though not to the point of claustrophobia—and tastefully decorated in hues of rose and slate. Two wicker chairs and an accent table make up the only seating area in front of the French doors that open to the balcony. The walk-in closet is generous in size, my clothes already hanging in neat rows and arranged on the shelves and in the built-in drawers.
Vance shifts on the mattress, bringing my attention back to him. “You don’t need to be nervous. You’ve proven to be a study in obedience. I hardly think I’ll have cause to punish you.”
I’m not sure what to say to that. Every bit of punishment I’ve withstood in this place was unwarranted. I doubt the doctor would appreciate such a sentiment. “You mentioned ground rules,” I remind him.
“Maybe rules is the wrong word,” he says, taking my hand between his and rubbing his thumb across the back as if he means to offer comfort. “We’ll call them boundaries. A little structure should set you at ease. Don’t you agree?”
“Maybe. I do appreciate knowing what you expect from me.”
“I sensed that about you.” He lets go of my hand and stands, his gaze taking in the brightness of the day beyond the windows. “I was told you settled into a routine in the House of Gemini regarding your studio. I don’t have an issue with you working during the day, but I expect you home every night at six for dinner. There will be times I won’t be able to join you due to medical emergencies, but I want you there, nonetheless.”
“I understand.” I watch as he wanders around my room, brushing his fingers over the dark cherry wood desk tucked against a wall. He dips his head to smell the bouquet of wild flowers someone left on top before opening the French doors to let in the fragrant morning air.
“No masturbating.” He turns back to me with a stern brow. “You’ll take the elixir again, but as I said last night, you’re not allowed to orgasm in my house.”
Embarrassment is an inescapable conclusion that never fails to spread to my cheeks. I avert my eyes, swallowing back the confession that masturbation is already a forbidden fruit I’m not to partake in, per the chancellor’s order.
“Am I allowed to speak freely?” I ask.
“Of course.”
I force my gaze to his. “I have questions.”
“I’ll do my best to answer them.” Something about the way he shoves his hands into his pockets reminds me of Liam, and my heart gives a thump of protest in my chest. I don’t want to like the doctor. Hating the members of the Brotherhood feels safer, less complicated, especially since I’ve already complicated the situation enough by having feelings for two of the twelve men in this tower.
Vance strides toward the open door of my bedroom. “As soon as you’re dressed for the day, join me for breakfast on the balcony.”
After he disappears from sight, I slide out of bed and shut the door, releasing a sigh of relief as the illusion of privacy encloses me. Having my own space these past few months, no matter how small or lacking in luxury, was the only thing that got me through those days. The generous gift of my studio was the biggest blessing, and no matter how many times my brother tries to strong-arm me for the sake of my own safety, I’m forever in debt to him for that single, life-changing kindness.