I close my eyes, pretending we’re somewhere else. On our first date. On our way to a show. Maybe the opera. Or a theater for some sort of musical. My stomach is tight with butterflies, my mind alight with ideas for later. I imagine him trying to seduce those sordid thoughts from my mouth with his tongue. But I don’t give in to him, never wanting this to end.
It’s a silly dream.
One I release with a sigh as I open my eyes to look outside at the palm trees passing us by.
I’ve never been to Master Kaiden’s estate, but I’m familiar with his beachfront property. Some of Warren’s staff mentioned the windows and airiness of the home, how it felt warmer and lighter than the audacious mansion Warren maintained.
My throat goes a little dry at the prospect of something new.
Then the palm on my thigh inches a little higher, drawing me back to his possessive touch. I glance over to find him watching me intently, his green eyes flaring with his usual intensity.
My heart skips a beat at the familiarity of his scent—the woodsy cologne that I swear haunts my suite.
I feel so connected to him, as though I belong to him. Which I suppose I do now. He said he inherited everything. So what will he do with me? Who am I to him? Does he feel this surreal pull between us, too?
His palm squeezes my thigh, not harshly but in a reassuring manner.
I’m not sure how to interpret that.
I’m not sure how to interpret him.
His gaze drops to my mouth, and I lick my lips on instinct. He follows the motion with a smoldering look, then abruptly turns his focus to the window.
I frown, wondering what I did wrong.
But his palm remains against my thigh, burning through the fabric of my dress and searing the skin below.
I’m entirely his in this moment. Or perhaps I’ve always belonged to him.
“What will you do with me?” I ask, unable to handle the agony of not knowing.
His jaw ticks. “Everything,” he replies, his attention still on the outside world and not me. “I’m going to do everything to you.”
My pulse races as I try to decipher the meaning of his words.
Everything is too broad.
Does he intend to share me with everyone? Make me please all his associates like Warren threatened to do to me?
As an Elite Bride, Warren kept me as a prize only for his closest friends. But as the months passed and my fertility continued to prove problematic, he started to threaten other uses for my body. Saying he had plenty of business acquaintances who would enjoy a taste of “elite pussy.”
My throat works as I swallow, my skin suddenly clammy and cool rather than warm and aroused.
Then Master Kaiden faces me once more, and the heated look he unleashes upon me causes adrenaline to surge through my system.
This male is a conundrum.
A walking riddle.
Silence personified.
And the most profound being in existence.
“What do you want from me?” I breathe, unable to hide my mounting emotions. Intrigue and fear. I can feel them battling inside me, warming and cooling my blood simultaneously, causing my heart to skip a beat before kick-starting into a chaotic rhythm. I don’t know whether to scream or to cry or to beg.
He’s killing me with his quiet fervency.
Say something, I want to whisper. Put me out of this misery.
“There are papers I need you to sign first,” he replies. “Then we’ll begin.”
Chapter Seven
Kaiden
Camilla reads every page.
I didn’t warn her before handing her the legal documents, nor did I elaborate on what they were, but I did say she could read at her leisure while we ate. And she does, her bright blue eyes devouring each word intently.
I wait for her questions as I sip my red wine, the filet mignon half-finished on my plate. She ate a few morsels of her own, her nerves likely too on edge to allow her to eat much more.
Which was why I slid over the paper that I needed her to sign.
There won’t be a wedding. Mostly because I don’t see the point. We married each other that day at the altar. My brother might have said the words, but they meant nothing. It was my heart she claimed that day. Just as I possessed her soul.
She was mine. End of discussion.
If she wants a honeymoon, I’ll indulge her. But no wedding. That would only bring more unnecessary eyes to our situation. If anyone asks, we’ll tell them we eloped.
I take another sip of my wine as she reaches the last page.
Once she’s ready, I’ll call in my lawyer and the deal will be sealed.
She has no other choice. Technically, I can return her or sell her off to the Elite Maiden network. I’d rather lock her up in my suite than allow either of those options to come to fruition.
If she needs convincing of this path, then I’ll provide it with my tongue between her legs. For hours, days, weeks, however long it takes. But she will sign those damn papers by the time I’m through.
She scans the final words, her expression giving nothing away as she sets the pages down on the table beside her plate. Her hand is steady as she reaches for her wine, her throat elegant and pristine with each swallow. Then she carefully sets the glass down and meets my gaze.
“You desire an heir,” she finally says.
“Several, yes,” I reply.
She leans forward with interest. “Does that mean my fertility results were positive?”
“Doctor Charleston didn’t test your fertility, Camilla.” Not today, anyway. And I was already very well acquainted with her ability to procreate.
Her lips curl down. “Then how do you know I’m capable of conceiving?”
I take another sip of my wine, debating my reply. I
