Page 22 of Stolen Vows
Anna shifts nervously behind me on the glass balcony. “Ireallydon’t think Mr. De Tore will be happy about this…”
Irritation simmers in my chest, and I walk to the transparent railing, cradling the clothes that were dumped on the sofa while I was sleeping. Expensive designer brands in varying sizes, as if the things I brought weren’t good enough for my new husband.
Anna tries again. “I-if you don’t like the clothes, we can get you new ones. Copley Place is only a couple blocks away.”
I ignore her, too tangled up in my thoughts of the past twenty-four hours.
Never mind the fact that after my drunken mishap, I woke alone. There truly is nothing in the world that makes you feel more inferior than that, except maybe the silent suggestion that your wardrobe needs upgrading.
My hands shake with an unmitigated amount of angry energy, and I try balling them into fists and taking deep breaths, but the emotion accumulates anyway.
I didn’t ask for any of this. All I wanted was to get away from this life, not dig my grave deeper into it.
A strangled, frustrated noise tears out of me, and my body jerks almost reflexively, sending the stack of clothes over the balcony to the ground below. I lean over, ignoring the tears stinging my eyes as each item floats down to the sidewalk, occasionally getting caught on another level, until I can no longer see them at all.
It doesn’t change anything, but the defiance makes me feel better nonetheless.
The door behind me slides open, and I assume Anna’s going inside to tell Irene about my behavior. A part of me feels bad because I’m sure one of them—or both, perhaps—will be blamed for my actions, but at the moment, I can’t bring myself to care.
Anna would be more than happy to swap places with me, so I’m sure this doesn’t make any sense to her. Irene, on the other hand, seems to understand my plight on some level, and I wonder if that’s because she’s been in a similar situation before or if she’s just wiser than her colleague.
Either way, it doesn’t matter. Her understanding won’t grant me freedom.
“You know…” A smooth, dark voice comes from directly over my shoulder. “Littering is bad for the environment.”
I jump at the sound, immediately whirling to face the intruder. Before I can fully turn though, he rushes up and plasters himself to me, trapping me. He grips the rail with both gloved hands, holding tight.
His hips crush mine to the glass barrier, and a startled gasp expels from my lungs with the impact. “I’d have expected a future scientist like you to know that.”
The teasing makes me see red.
“Jesus Christ,” I swear, struggling against his hold. “Letgoof me.”
“This is not the warm welcome a husband anticipates after being away from his wife all day.” Leo chuckles, his mouthclose to my ear. “And I thought good little Catholic girls weren’t supposed to take their Lord’s name in vain.”
“I guess I’m not a good little Catholic girl then, am I?”
“Mmm. That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.” His moan caresses my cheek, and even as I continue jerking against him, trying to maneuver myself free, I can’t deny that the sound stokes a fire low—very low—in my stomach. “Although your recent charitable contribution to the streets of Boston cannot be denied. Do you have any idea how much those clothes were worth?”
I attempt a shrug, but it catches on his body. “So gofetchthem.”
One hand retreats from my view, and in the next second, he shoves his gloved fingers through my hair, forcing my head to angle downward. An endless stream of windows marks the entire side of the skyscraper—some lights on, some not. I wonder how far up you can see—if any residents in the building might witness the battle for my freedom.
“Is it that easy?” he whispers, lips pressing directly to my ear now. I bite the tip of my tongue to suppress a shiver. “You throw something, and I’m to retrieve it like some dog?”
Stop pouring kerosene on this fire. Don’t answer him.
I do anyway. “They say it’s never too late to learn new tricks.”
“I’ll need a good leash. Something metal that I won’t be able to chew through. Maybe a muzzle, too. I’ve been known to bite when a pussy gets close.” He shifts, and I feelallof him pressing against my bottom while his words echo between my legs. “Normally, I’d drag your wicked little ass inside for privacy’s sake; however, I relish the idea of Boston watching me lay claim to my wife for the first time.”
Fear courses through my veins, pumping wildly. At least, I think it’s fear. “Far be it from me to shatter the fantasy.”
Cool air strikes the backs of my thighs as he begins slowly dragging my skirt up. My elbows hang on top of the rail, and I can’t move otherwise with how he’s leaning, so I just hiss as more of me becomes exposed.
“What’s your fantasy,stellina? How do you want this to go down?”
“I don’t have one.”