As if he can’t wait to touch me.
“I’m not comfortable spending the next thirty days naked in front of you.”
He leaves the table slowly, each step bringing him that much closer. “I’m only going to say this once more, my queen. Remove the sheet, or I’ll remove it myself. Either way, it won’t spare you a punishment.”
The threat tingles down my spine; a warning to tread with caution. I clutch the soft fabric with twitching fingers, but I can’t bring myself to part the makeshift wrap. “You won’t be the first man to discipline me,” I challenge.
“Then my brothers have prepared you well.” A hint of a smile teases his lips as he lurches forward, stealing the sheet with a quick tug. I stumble back, palms shielding my breasts as he discards my modesty on the floor. Miles returns to his chair, the portrait of provocative calm.
And that’s when suspicion sets in, because I know it’s coming—a spanking at the very least. The worst would be a trip to the dungeon.
Shuddering at the thought, I exile the reminder of where I’ll spend next month to the dark corners of my mind. I’ve learned it’s best to exist in the present, so I wait him out, the seconds passing in unnerving silence until I can take his inaction no more.
“Aren’t you going to punish me?”
“Mark my words, Novalee. Tonight, you’ll regret disobeying me.” He jabs a fork into a juicy piece of pineapple before nodding at the seat next to him. “Now sit and eat. I know you’re hungry.”
My stomach’s a traitorous embarrassment, grumbling loud and confirming his assertion. I slide my bare ass onto fine Italian leather and fill a plate with fruit, yogurt, and a mouth-watering crepe. But instead of taking a bite of breakfast, I take the bait dangling between us.
“What happens tonight?”
He pauses, a ripe strawberry speared on his fork, and pure glee enters his eyes. “We attend dinner with the Brotherhood.”
“That’s not a surprise, nor a punishment, Mr. Sinclair.”
Calculation. There’s no other word to describe the curve of his lips. “I’ll be dressed. You won’t.”
“No,” I gasp. “You can’t do that!”
“I can, and I will. Maybe spending the evening naked in front of twelve men will teach you to respect the rules in this house.”
My heart skips in my chest, a fluttering dance of fear. “I-I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t offend me. You disobeyed me. There’s a difference.”
“Why are you doing this?” I hold his gaze, my own pleading for mercy. “Is forcing me into nudity not enough?”
“It is, my queen, but I won’t stand for your disobedience. After spending five months here at the estate, under the authority of the Brotherhood, you should know by now that we hold to certain ideologies. You need to respect them.”
“And what about respect for me? Does that not matter?”
Setting his fork down, he pushes his chair back, the wooden legs scraping across the marble floor. He leans down and holds my chin in place between his thumb and forefinger.
“On this island, respect is obtained in two ways. Men of noble birth are born with the right to it, while our subjects must earn respect through obedience and submission.” His gaze darts to my mouth, and the tip of his tongue sweeps across his lower lip. “You’re a subject of the Brotherhood. Fighting the role for which you were born will only cause misery.”
A livid uprising threatens to spill from my tongue, objections spurned on by the audacity of such blatant arrogance. Before I get the first indignant word out, he presses two fingers against my lips.
“You’d be wise not to provoke me.” Slowly, he withdraws his fingers and backs away.
“Understood,” I say, glaring at him, the intensity of my fury strengthening as he reclaims his seat. Despite my one-word reply of acquiescence, I stand. “Continuing this conversation will only serve to further provoke you, so if you’ll excuse me…”
I stride from the dining room, uncaring of his reaction, because after allowing the Brotherhood to flatten my spirit into a mat for their feet, I’ve finally had enough. I know my fate, my duty, and what’s expected of me, but if I’m to have any chance of surviving a life lived under their rule, I need to take a stand.
Even if my protest is in vain.
It matters not that I was raised in a position of royalty, beholding the title of a queen. My title is worthless, little more than a deceptive signal of power, because under the jurisdiction of the Zodiac Brotherhood, I’m a subject.
And these men are my ruling kings.
6
The day trudges on endlessly. I pass the hours on a balcony lounger, sprawled in the sun and avoiding Miles. With nothing to occupy my attention, not even a magazine or book, I spend too much time trapped in my head, alternating between rage, hopelessness, and a weariness in my bones that turns me into an intermittent dozer.