“Why didn’t you hit me?” I ask.
Eliza’s eyes shoot to my face, widening. “W-what?”
“With the golf club?” I shrug. “I mean, I was well prepared and confident I’d get the chance to duck out of the way if you took a swing, but why didn’t you?”
Eliza looks ashamed as she breaks my gaze. “Because I’m not a violent person.” There’s uncertainty in her tone, and I know she’s lying as I move closer to her.
“Don’t lie to me, Eliza.” I set my hand on her hip and pull her so she’s facing me. “Is it because deep down, you don’t want to hurt me?”
Her hands rest on my chest as she gazes up at me. “I don’t know why I didn’t.” She shakes her head. “I wanted to, but something stopped me.”
I tilt my head. “Is it because you’d miss me if I were gone?”
Her breathing labors. “You’re under my skin and not in a good way.”
“In what way am I under your skin?”
“You have some kind of control over me that I can’t explain.”
My brow arches. “Do I now? And is it because you are addicted to my touch?” I ask, letting my fingers skate gently down the sides of her body. “Or because you are addicted to calling me daddy, just like in those books you love to read.”
She stiffens against me. “How did you—”
“I know everything about you, Eliza.”
She pushes away from my grasp and paces to the edge of the lake, wrapping her arms around herself. “Is that why you asked me to call you that?” Her voice sounds full of hurt as it echoes through the air toward me. “A way of manipulating me with my kinks?”
I move closer to her but don’t touch her this time. “No, it’s a coincidence. I’ve always been partial to the nickname long before we met, malishka. It wasn’t until a few days ago that I spotted the book you were reading in the little living room you spend all your time in I learned you’re also partial to it.”
She turns to me. “I think you knew that before you saw that book.”
“Of course, your reactions told me you liked it, but I didn’t know it was something you’d thought of before we’d fucked.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Although no doubt those books are about Daddy Doms, am I right?”
Even in the dim light of the moon, I see her cheeks redden. “Yes,” she murmurs. “And you’re definitely not a Daddy Dom.”
“Certainly not,” I reply. “I’m just sick and like hearing you call me it.” I turn then to search her face. “Is that what you want? To be a little?”
She shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so. I just kind of like the kinkiness of the word, like you.” Her eyes meet mine and I feel an odd tightening in my chest as the need to kiss her overwhelms me. I move closer and her eyes dip to my lips, inviting me in.
The kiss is slow and tentative, different from when I’ve kissed her before. I take my time, enjoying the way her lips feel against mine. And then, after God knows how long, we break apart, both of us breathless.
“Let’s head back to the house,” I say.
She nods and places her hand in mine. “Lead the way.”
I swallow hard and start up the path, knowing that whatever this feeling is, it’s dangerous. Eliza makes me want more from life than money and power. The girl by my side makes me want something until recently I didn’t even believe I was capable of, and I fear if I don’t distance myself from my wife, soon there will be no stopping the feelings that are trying to swallow me whole.
25
ELIZA
Iwalk down the path toward the lake, taking in a huge gulp of fresh air. The freedom of being allowed to wander the grounds is a godsend, as I’ve never been one for staying indoors all the time. I know it’s because of the baby and because walking is good for me while I’m pregnant, but I can’t help but hope Adrik is starting to trust me.
He made me swear not to attempt an escape, but he’s a fool if he thinks I’d know the first place to go if I escaped. According to Lila, my brothers are staying with the Morrone family, but I’ve got no idea where I’d find them in the city.
And if I escaped, what then? I’m still Mrs. Volkov and carrying the baby of a traitor.
I shudder as I wonder what my brothers would say if they knew their sister was carrying the unborn child of the man that killed our papá in cold blood. Thiago would never hurt me, I’m sure of that, but I wouldn’t put it past Enzo. He can be ruthless to a fault, a trait he inherited from our mother.