Entice

Chapter Thirteen

Mil

I gripped the countertop, allowing each finger to push into the porcelain sink as I got my breathing under control.

What the hell had I been thinking?

One moment of weakness. That was all it had taken. Actually, that was a lie. It had been a moment of weakness paired with Chase’s green eyes, his maddening touch, and his ability to both make me feel comforted and wanted all in the same mind-numbing breath.

A moment of pure insanity had washed over me. I’d taken off my shirt. I hadn’t been thinking — all I’d wanted was for him to see all of me, accept all of me, push our past behind us, and power through toward whatever the hell my family had planned for me.

I’d panicked when he didn’t turn around.

He had to have seen me. There was a mirror near the door. He’d looked up, directly at me, or at least it looked like he had. And his face, God, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over the look on his face.

It hadn’t been lust.

Or love.

It had been absolute torture. The lines around his eyes had suddenly seemed so much more pronounced than I’d realized. He’d looked old. He hadn’t looked carefree — he’d just looked, pissed.

And he’d been looking right at me.

Angry, I’d run back into the bathroom. He could yell my name until his voice went hoarse; no way was I coming back out until I was fully clothed and ready to face him.

“Mil!” Chase pounded on the door. “Open the damn door!”

“I’m just going to take a shower,” I said in a detached voice. “Like you said.”

“Mil…” He growled then pounded against the door again. “I need to talk to you.”

“So talk.” I shivered as I started the water in the shower and waited for his apology.

It didn’t come.

The water was already starting to get hot. Steam began to fill the room, causing the mirror to turn a whitish gray.

“Chase?” I called out.

Sighing impatiently, I cracked open the door. Which is apparently all the bastard needed to stick his boot in the small space and push it the rest of the way open.

“You always were too curious for your own good.” He smirked, letting himself in the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

I backed away from him until the backs of my calves touched the cool tub. I was trapped. Heck, I could be in Russia, and I’d still feel trapped by his magnetism.

“Mil.” Chase’s eyes zeroed in on my face, quite impressive, considering I was, at that point, still clad in only my bra and underwear.

“Chase, did you need something? I’m kind of busy.” I shrugged him off, trying to appear unaffected as his tattered shirt clung to his muscled chest.

“Yeah.” He smirked. “I did. I do.”

“Well?” I wish I could say that my voice didn’t sound breathless — expectant, turned on. Crap.

“You don’t run out on me.”

My eyes widened. “You’re upset because I—”

“Threw a damn temper tantrum,” Chase finished. “I don’t have time for it. I don’t have time to placate your delicate feminine sensibilities. I think we should establish some rules in this relationship.”

I was about five seconds from attacking him with my bare hands.

“Rules?” I licked my lips. “What kind of rules? Play fair? Don’t lie? Don’t cheat? Don’t go to bed angry? Those types of things?”

“Nah.” Chase shortened the distance between us. I could smell his cologne as it mixed with the heavy steam in the bathroom. My knees weakened.

His hands braced my arms as he held me in front of him. “Rules, Mil.”

“Rules,” I repeated, trying to sound totally unaffected — which should seriously earn me points. Chase Winter was a god. Sweat began to trickle down his temple, and I swear all I wanted to do was smack the crap out of his gorgeous face and then catch the sweat with my tongue. I shivered.

“Cold?” His eyes mocked as they crinkled at the edges in smug humor.

“Nah, just irritated,” I fired back.

“Well, that makes two of us.” He didn’t remove his hands. I shivered again. Damn, treacherous body.

“You’re not allowed to feel,” Chase whispered. “Neither of us can afford that luxury for now. We have people most likely coming after not only you, but me. You can’t throw a shit fit every minute you’re upset or every time something doesn’t go your way—”

“I did not—”

“You did,” Chase confirmed. “No running away.”

“I would never run.”

“You want to run so damn bad you can’t even think straight,” he whispered. “And I can’t be worried about you running when I’m supposed to be protecting you.”

I laughed bitterly.

“That funny?” He breathed so close to my lips I could taste him.

“You, being worried? Yeah, hilarious as hell.”

His eyes narrowed into slits. “One more rule…”

“Oh yeah?”

“You’re mine.”

“P-pardon?” My brain wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t able to form words. My body, however, arched toward him, having ideas of its own.

“Mine. You’re… mine.” He said it simply, slowly, as if I had English comprehension issues. “What’s mine is mine. Nobody lays a hand on you. Until this whole fiasco is over — it’s you and me. I’ll kill anyone who touches you, and if I see you look at a another man in a way I deem less than respectful toward me, your husband, I will not only end his life where he stands, but hold you personally responsible for doing so.”

I just lost my ability to breathe.

“That’s it.” He stepped back while I collapsed onto the side of the tub, nearly falling into the shower spray. Pretty sure those two words, that’s it, held new meaning. He made it sound so easy.

“Fine,” I whispered. “I think I can handle that.”

He gave a jerky nod and walked back to the door. His hand hovered over the handle. Dear Lord, please just leave!

“One more thing.” He turned. “How many?”

“Uh, three?” I shrugged. “Fourteen? What the hell are you asking? I don’t read minds.”

“Guys.” A muscle flexed across Chase’s jaw as his green eyes bore into me. “How many since you and I were together?”

“Two.”

He swore and let himself out of the bathroom. I charged toward the door and locked it as fast as I could. With a jerky sigh, I slid down the door and collapsed onto the cool tile.

I’d lied.

It hadn’t been two.

It hadn’t even been one.

I hadn’t been with anyone since Chase — because nobody would ever compare to the boy who’d stole my innocence, my heart, and refused to give it back. I’d tucked that little secret deep into myself, because as Chase had said, I don’t get to feel. My father had made sure of that. He’d made sure that Phoenix and I hadn’t felt anything when it came to the ugliness of the world. And in the end, it had been my saving grace. My bastard of a father had saved my life — and all because he’d taught me how to close into myself.

I looked down at the scar on my arm, my battle wound, my trophy. Four years ago, I’d been afraid.

Now all I felt was numb.

Chase had my heart, but he would never get my soul; it had been taken from me the same day I’d earned my scar, never to be returned.

He’d been right about one thing. I’d refused to feel because I’d refused to go down without a fight. I was going to finish what the De Langes started, and they were all going to die.