Tangled In Strings

Chapter Two

I bite down on my lip. "I've met your sister."

"You've met Valentina? Where? At the trial?"

"No. Connor Maynard's home."

His brows curve suspiciously suddenly. "Was this a week ago, by any chance?"

My expression must give it away. His smile widens, a soft rolling chuckle leaving his lips. "That explains a lot."

"Why?"

"She called me the night of the trial, probing me on the subject of you and I. Told me she thought I should call you, try to fix things. When I asked her what spurred the questions, she told me Maynard's daughter had finagled information about us from him. The next day, she asked me to drive her to his house, but I had a meeting with my lawyer, so I couldn't do it."

"She was very sweet. Said you'd strangle her for approaching me."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing you haven't already told me." His eyes narrow, pressing me to continue. "She said you were miserable, that you rarely saw them anymore. She said you wanted to get back together."

"She's very perceptive. I'll tell her to keep her nose out of things."

"Don't. Really. I'm in her good graces; I don't want that to change. I want at least one person in your family to like me."

"My mother would like you if she knew you." He lifts my chin with his finger. "Which I should inform you now I intend to put to play... soon."

"Meet your mother?" I blanch at the words I utter.

"Yes. You have to at some point, Scar."

He examines my features closely, so closely, a light finger tracing the edge of my jawline. I turn my face away, simply to move.

I press my back into the window, turned to him.

"You want to tell me why you're up?"

I shrug. "I couldn't sleep."

He crosses his arms over his chest, and his pectorals bulge, the curves dusted in trimmed hair. "Nightmare?"

With a frown, I contemplate how uneasy and yet completely satisfying it is to know that he is aware of the dark parts of my life without asking.

"You can tell me."

I don't want to burden him with something he has no power to change. He has enough on his plate without having to worry about what inner demons I'm fighting within.

I fight the urge to lose my emotions in front of him, eying the massive room.

"You remember the last time we were here?"

He regards me with telling appetence, which answers my question definitively. As the air bristles between us, my desire to forget anything and everything else around me becomes paramount.

I expect him to take over as he normally does, always able to catch when my mood gradually drifts into hunger. But he doesn't. He just stares at me.

The next words send me on a trip of nostalgia. Many months ago, I asked him the same question. "Remember when you told me you could dominate and submit?"

His chest expands. He still doesn't say a word.

I grab the hem of my nightgown and drag the material over my head. I gulp a breath of bravery. "I need the former right now."

My heart thumps as I drop the pale blue cotton fabric onto the shiny floor. Just like that, I'm naked, laid out bare in more ways than one. His gaze darkens with longing, even though his eyes don't leave my own.