I hold my breath, wondering if he’ll be angry, but he tilts my face up to his and tenderly cups my jaw. He rubs his nose against mine in whisper-light kisses before he rests back against the cushion.
“No, angel. I haven’t felt the slightest inclination to. No woman has me driven as insane as you do. Besides, it turns my budding little exhibitionist on, doesn’t it?”
My face flames and I hide it in his shoulder, prompting him to laugh. “Maybe.”
“Then I’m all for doing whatever it takes to keep you and this sweet little paradise between your legs happy.”
* * *
Jared
This isn’t sustainable.
I recognize that somewhere around the third week.
I’ve chosen this life. She hasn’t. She may love what I do to her in bed, and may even, surprisingly, accommodate those times when my darker moods get the better of me.
But eventually, she’ll hate me for keeping her captive.
The thought of Skye hating me drives spikes into my gut. But the alternative? Living without her? It’s beginning to keep me up at night.
And then there’s the issue of her father.
My men eventually tracked him down to Switzerland. Recalling the hurt on Skye’s face when she told me about her childhood, I was tempted to seek fast and merciless retribution. But again, the thought of Skye hating me stayed my hand.
Instead I offered him my version of justice—return to New York of his own free will and admit to his sins. The asshole refused.
He believes he’s entitled to what he took on account of my ‘unreasonable’ behavior. Thinks he’s earned what he stole from me.
Needless to say, I disagreed. That was three days ago.
His latest counter-offer stopped me in my tracks though. Mostly because I considered it for all of a minute before—a little sick in my mouth—I ended our call.
That treacherous minute eats a path of guilt through me but deep down, I know it’s not an option I can dismiss easily.
I haven’t told Skye any of it, of course. I curb a snort of disbelief before it rips free and wakes the angel sleeping in my arms.
Somehow, I’ve gone from ruthless asshole to being terrified of even the smallest thing hurting this priceless creature I would burn the world down for.
My own father would laugh himself hoarse if he could see me now.
I grit my teeth in the dark. There’s a reason he can’t see me. Am I losing my touch by letting Warren Michaels call the shots when I should’ve ended this three days ago?
“Jared?”
Skye blinks sleepily before her eyes find mine in the semi-darkness and I groan at how utterly adorable she is. The idea of her looking anything but this adorable…I can’t bear the thought of her ever finding out the counter-offer her father made.
“Did I wake you, angel?”
She rubs one eye and shakes her head even though it’s obvious I did. “Are you okay?”
This time the laughter escapes. “Nothing to worry about. My problems will take care of themselves eventually.”
“You say that but I don’t think they do. Not without consequences.”
I stiffen and her eyes widen a bit. But my little fearless princess plows on. “The way you carry your anger sometimes. It feels like it’s a part of you, and I know that can’t be good.”
“Skye.”