My lungs burned as I fought to fill them with air. I didn’t or couldn’t answer.
“Let it not be said, Emma, that I didn’t give you a choice. Your choice is right here, right now. It’s me or death.” Rett’s grip intensified as the pressure on my neck increased. His lips came close to my ear, warm air teasing my oversensitive skin. “I made myself a promise. If you chose death, it would be at my hands.”
The panic that had been building within me evaporated into the humid New Orleans breeze blowing beyond the walls. Despite Rett’s grasp, the dark spots dancing before my eyes, and the burning in my chest, I had a sudden realization, perhaps an epiphany. I dropped my hands to my lap, no longer fighting Rett’s threat.
My reaction, or lack of one, had the response I’d expected—the response that I’d bet my life on.
Rett released my neck.
I couldn’t help but gasp as air rushed into my lungs. It was similar to coming out of the water after diving into the deep end of the pool. As air filled me, my senses were turned up. Not only the aromas but everything—touch, sight, hearing, and taste.
The soft jazz music coming from the hidden speakers was louder and the flickering candles were brighter. The world spun—not metaphorically but literally as Rett turned my chair toward him. With his tight grip now on the arms of the chair, he leaned forward until his dark stare was inches away from mine. With my complete attention, he questioned, “Are you submitting to death?”
“No.” My voice was a bit scratchy. I tried to even out my breathing, confident in my next statement. “You won’t hurt me.”
The expression before me morphed as this handsome man took on a villainous grin. “Are you certain, Miss North?”
First, my name wasn’t North. However, with each passing beat of my heart, I was certain of my statement. I was confident that if Everett Ramses wanted me dead, he wouldn’t have pledged his protection even before I knew his name. If he wanted me dead, he could have very easily squeezed my last breath as his strong fingers crushed my neck, larynx, and trachea until I could no longer inhale.
I lifted my chin. “Yes, I’m certain.”
Rett stood erect, his penetrating stare still on me. “You’re wrong.”
Reaching for the edge of the table and pushing the large chair back, I stood, keeping my gaze fixed on his. If this was a contest on who would blink first, I was giving it my best damn shot. “If I’m to believe you, Mr. Ramses, you have been protecting me from an unknown threat.” I grinned. “Are you saying you’re not to be believed?”
Almost imperceptibly to the eye, his head shook. Such a micro-reaction was the telltale sign that Everett Ramses was a man who rarely showed his hand. He kept his emotions and intentions close to the vest. And yet a moment before, despite his tenor and the level cadence of his words, he’d been pushed to his limit, showing me his true feelings. No, Everett Ramses didn’t want me dead.
“Miss North, it isn’t a lie when I say I could easily extinguish that glowing ember in your blue eyes. I’m a man of my word, and I meant what I said. You will be protected from your brother as well as other forces working against you.” He lifted his chin. “With one exception.”
“What would that be?”
“Not what, who.” He inhaled, his nostrils flaring as he scanned me up and down. “Me, Emma. I won’t make promises I can’t keep. I won’t pledge not to hurt you. I’m not an easy man. Marrying me will save you from your brother but not from me.” Like lasers, his dark eyes scanned the neckline of my blouse. “You’ll pay for my name and my protection.
“Pay?”
“With your loyalty and obedience. I told you before that obeying will bring you rewards.”
He’d said orgasms, but I wasn’t ready to interrupt him.
“Disobeying will result in punishment.”
“Mr. Ramses, I’m not a child.”
Rett seized my hand and tugged me forward until it was trapped between his grasp and his rock-hard erection, not so hidden beneath his expensive gray pants. “Do you feel what you do to me?”
My pulse increased. “Yes.”
“I’m well aware that you’re not a child, Emma. Children don’t make me hard. I want a woman, a mature, sensual, and strong woman. Don’t act like a child, and I won’t treat you like one. Your job from this day forward is simple. Act like the woman capable of being my wife. Show the world that you were born to be the queen of New Orleans. As I said, that will make you untouchable to everyone except me.” He pressed my hand harder against him. “I will touch you, Emma. Every inch of that soft skin will be mine for the taking. Just like my lips and tongue brought you pleasure, my cock will find pleasure inside you. I’ll show you how a woman should be treated. With me, in my bed or wherever I choose, you’ll find more pleasure than you knew possible.”
With just his words, I was ready to combust, and after what had occurred earlier, I couldn’t possibly argue the accuracy in his promise.
“But that doesn’t mean I’ll spare you pain. You, Emma North, will learn how to enjoy both.” Releasing my hand, he continued, “Time is of the essence. Kyle’s proximity is closer than I like. You asked what would happen if you left this room.” His head shook. “I won’t allow you to leave unaccompanied and end up in the hands of the man you considered your brother.” He reached for my chin. “Listen to me.”
This touch was different than seconds earlier. Everett Ramses may think he was a master at controlling his emotions, yet I saw the restraint in his expression. This touch was gentler, even sensual. The contrast from seconds before sent shock waves over my skin and through my circulation. It wasn’t the wine that left me intoxicated as much as it was this man filled with mystery and a kaleidoscope of intense emotion.
“You’re mine, Emma. Our union and marriage is what’s best for New Orleans. It’s also what is best for you; however, you should know that if the time comes when you change your mind and you choose death, it will be at my hands. What is your choice?”
Who would willingly choose death?