Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 44666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 223(@200wpm)___ 179(@250wpm)___ 149(@300wpm)
I’d hoped to sleep off the residue of finding Oliver in my doorway last night, but it still clings to me at the breakfast table.
“That color suits you.”
His remark comes out of nowhere, and I nearly choke on my yogurt.
“What?”
“Your dress.” He tips his coffee mug toward me before taking a careful sip. “It fits you well.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Not at all. You’re a designer, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but…” I glance down at the long knit piece that matches my brown eyes. “I didn’t design this.”
“Regardless, it hugs you in all the right places.” He nods at my fitted bodice and the hint of cleavage there. “You obviously have an eye for style. You should wear your own work.”
“I’ve worn some of my designs at formal events.”
“What about branching out?” He sets the mug down, his gaze steady as he weighs more than just the question. “Have you considered a lingerie line?”
“I haven’t.”
“You should. Something provocative and bold. I can get you buyers.”
The last of my eggs sit forgotten, cooling on the plate. My mind isn’t on food or clothing or new customers. It’s on what happened in my suite last night. Oliver, meanwhile, carries on like nothing happened, idly chatting as if he has nothing to hide—as if he didn’t stand in the shadows and watch me unravel beneath my own hand.
I chew the inside of my cheek, debating whether to confront him, but he’s already speaking again.
“Aren’t you interested in expanding your brand?” His smirk holds too much heat to be harmless. “I can help with inspiration, if you need it.”
“I’m more interested in why you were standing in my doorway last night.” If my accusation unsettles him, he doesn’t show it.
“Was I?”
“You know you were.” I give him a pointed look. “Unless there’s a ghost in this tower who looks exactly like you.”
“You should ask yourself why you didn’t look away sooner.”
Glaring at him, I cross my arms. “I did look away.”
“Not soon enough.”
“Excuse me?” His words hit a nerve, sending a jolt down my spine.
“You heard me.”
“All I heard was absolute nonsense.”
He shakes his head. “You’re a natural submissive, Novalee. It’s written in your body language. Even your resistance is a performance, because what you really crave is surrender.”
“You don’t know what I crave.”
“Are you sure about that? You’ve been broadcasting it since you stepped into this house.”
I grip the edge of the table, my nails biting into the wood. He’s channeling Dr. Price with that know-it-all tone.
“You should embrace it,” he adds, his gaze drilling into me.
There’s an unnamed agenda buried in his stare, settling low in my belly, uncomfortable but not entirely…unpleasant.
Suddenly, that locked door flashes through my mind.
“Embrace what, exactly?”
Without answering, he smooths his expression into polished stone, his mouth hardening into a stubborn line.
He’s said too much.
As the realization sinks in, Oliver lifts his napkin and dabs the corner of my mouth, wiping away a smear of yogurt. His fingers graze my skin a fraction too long, and a jolt sparks through my system.
Our eyes meet and hold.
Something charged passes between us.
Then he drops the napkin onto the table and utters six words that tilt my world off its axis.
“We’ve been summoned to the dungeon.”
“When?” I manage, my voice a thin squeak as my heart bottoms out.
“As soon as we’re finished here.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask who issued the summons, but I already know. Mr. Stone made it clear at dinner the other night.
“Will Liam be there?”
“I don’t know.”
Another lie. He knows.
Of course Liam will be there. All of them will, the men who decide my fate behind closed doors, dangling their power like a noose around my neck. Some will watch in silence, while others will wait for the right moment to tighten the rope.
And Oliver?
I have no idea where he stands.
Acid rises in my throat, threatening to purge what I ate, and I gulp it down, even as I lift my chin.
“What do they want?” Forced bravado colors my tone. I hope he doesn’t notice how my knees are trembling under the table.
“I think you already know what they want, Novalee.”
“This isn’t fair.”
“Fair or not, we have to go.” He stands, chair legs scraping across the hardwood, dragging dread in his wake.
I fold my arms. “You could have given me more warning.”
“I was just informed this morning.” He hesitates a beat. “I wanted you to finish breakfast first. Liam said you haven’t been eating.”
“Well now it’s about to come back up.”
“If you need to puke, you should do it now.” He pulls me upright. “Making them wait would be a mistake.”
The warning is clear.
Resisting is futile, but I do it anyway, rebellious feet rooted to the spot.
His grip tightens. “Are we heading to the dungeon?” He angles his head, one brow lifting. “Or do you need the toilet?”
I want to say neither, but I shake my head and grit out, “I’m fine,” before letting him lead me out of the House of Capricorn.