Bound | H.S.

Chapter 10

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Sunlight hit my face.

I tried to stretch, but an arm was thrown over my waist and a firm chest pressed against my back. It took me a moment to remember where I was and what had happened yesterday, and then I stiffened.

"Good, you're awake." Harry said in a voice that was gruff with sleep.

Realization hit me.

Harry. My husband. I was a married woman, but Harry had kept his promise. He hadn't consummated the marriage.

I opened my eyes.

Harry's hand gripped my hip and he turned me on my back. He was propped up on one elbow as his eyes took in my face. I wished I knew what he was thinking.

It was strange to be in bed with a man. I could feel Harry's heat, even though our bodies weren't touching.

In the sunlight, the scars on his skin were somehow less prominent than last night, but his muscles were just as impressive. I wondered how they'd feel to the touch.

He reached up and took a strand of my hair between two fingers. I held my breath, but he released it after a moment, his face becoming calculating. "It won't be long until my step-mother, my aunts, and the other married women of my family knock at our door to gather up the sheets and carry them into the dining room where undoubtedly everyone else is already waiting for the fucking spectacle to begin."

A blush spread over my cheeks and something in Harry's eyes changed, some of the coldness replaced by another emotion. My eyes found the small cut on Harry's arm. It hadn't been deep and was already scabbing.

Harry nodded. "My blood will give them what they want. It'll be the foundation of our story, but we'll be expected to fill in the details. I know I'm a convincing liar. But will you be able to lie in everyone's face, even your mother's, when you tell them about our wedding night? Nobody can know what happened. It would make me look weak."

His lips tightened with regret. Regret of having spared me and gotten himself in the position of depending on my lying skills.

"Weak because you didn't want to rape your wife?" I whispered.

Harry's fingers on my hip tightened. I hadn't even realized they were still there.

Make him want to be good to you. Bibiana's words flitted through my mind.

Harry was a monster, there was no doubt about it. He couldn't be anything else in order to survive as a leader in our world, but maybe I could make him keep the monster in chains when he was with me. It was more than I'd hoped for when he'd led me toward the bedroom last night.

Harry smiled coldly. "Weak for not taking what was mine for the taking. The tradition of bloody sheets in the Sicilian mafia is as much a proof of the bride's purity as of the husband's relentlessness. So what do you think will it say about me that I had you lying half naked in my bed, vulnerable and mine, and yet here you are untouched as you were before our wedding?"

"Nobody will know. I won't tell anyone."

"Why should I trust you? I don't make a habit of trusting people, especially people who hate me."

I rested my palm against the cut on his arm, feeling his muscles flex beneath my touch.

Make him want to be good to you, make him love you.

"I don't hate you." He narrowed his eyes, but it was mostly the truth.

I would have hated him if he had forced himself on me. I certainly hated what the marriage to him meant for me, but I didn't know him well enough for real hate. Maybe it would come with time.