God, I was hopeless. Clinging to the scraps given by a man who’d imprisoned me. Making me feel a sense of romance about him. Making me want more.
I’d said it before, I’d say it again—he was good.
The layout of the clothes, besides being a thoughtful and practical touch, also seemed to be an order of sorts. Put these on, come find me. The unspoken command was clear in the appearance of flip-flops instead of slippers. The shoes were meant for walking. For that matter, if he’d wanted me to stay put, he’d probably have taken everything and left me naked.
Or maybe I was reading too much into it.
But this was Edward—was there anything he did or said that wasn’t calculated and precise?
A stubborn bit of me wanted to rebel. Maybe walk to the main house naked, or not return at all until he came looking for me, but I forced myself to behave. I was adjusting to the man who kept me, learning to acquiesce to his demands. Bowing down to someone else’s authority, though, had always been tough for me, and the tendency to force against it came naturally. In some ways, that made the giving into it all the more freeing.
I let that feeling of unconstraint envelop me as I wrapped the robe around my body, momentarily letting go of my worries and fears. I was confused and didn’t know what today would bring, but I’d had a wonderful, memorable night, and Edward had thought of me, and wasn’t that worth holding onto for a little longer? As unreal as all of it had been to him, it sat real in me, and for now, that felt good. So fantastically good, that by the time I arrived at the main house, I had a smile and a hum on my lips.
“Someone had a good night’s sleep.”
I stopped, stunned out of my daze by Edward’s uncharacteristically charming timbre. My heart beat a little faster at the sight of him, fully dressed and sitting at the small dining area, two settings placed, as though he’d been waiting for me.
“I did, actually. Slept very well. And you?” I felt my breath still as I waited for his response. Whatever he said next would set the tone of whatever followed, and I was eager to know what that tone would be.
He considered quickly, his expression telling me his answer surprised him before his words did. “Despite being unused to sharing my bed space, yes, I did sleep quite well.”
So he had spent the night!
My smile grew as I pulled my robe tighter, suddenly bashful. “Good to hear, Edward.”
His eyes glinted at my use of his name, and when I started over to the chair opposite him, he shook his head. “Come here.” He scooted out from the table, making space for me to sit on his lap.
Years ago, there was a moment, when Hudson’s lips met mine, when it seemed like this man I’d been wanting and wishing for so long had finally opened the door for us to be more than what we were. That moment had felt like blossoming. Like being a flower left in the dark for so long that it had stopped believing in the sun, and then, when the rays fell from the sky and nature awoke, that flower opened up and became the beautiful thing it had always meant to be.
I’d felt like that, blissful and fervent and exuberant in my skin until Hudson revealed I’d just been his test subject, and I never let myself blossom like that for anyone again.
Until now.
Now was like that moment, and as I sat on Edward’s lap and he wrapped his arms around me, I lifted my petals toward the man I’d married and woke up. The world became vibrant. The colors of the greenery out the window, the blue of the ocean meeting the horizon in the distance, the aroma of roasted coffee, and the warm wall of man at my back—my senses were flooded with an effervescence that had gone unnoticed. Was this what normal people experienced all the time? Was this what it felt like to be alive?
He nuzzled into my shoulder, sending a zing of pleasure through my limbs. “You’ve been such a good little bird, sharing everything I’ve asked from you.”
The praise brought on a sort of orgasm, my entire being lighting up with euphoria.
His mouth moved up to suck on my neck. “We have a trust between us now, don’t we? You’ve learned the reward of confessing your secrets, haven’t you?”
“Mm hm.”
His lips continued up to nibble on my earlobe. I could feel the pleasure sting of his teeth rumble between my legs, and I was suddenly very aware of how naked I was below my robe. “Now,” he said, his breath hot on my skin. “Tell me about The Game.”
Darkness fell like a veil over my vision, a darkness thick enough to permeate all my senses. I clawed my fingernails through the cotton material until I felt them dig into my thighs, bracing myself. Holding myself together.
Then I took a breath, and the haze began to clear.
I was overreacting, like I always did when I heard the term. He hadn’t actually made the capital T and the capital G. I was sensitive to the phrase and tended to hear what I feared most.
“What game?” I asked when I had my voice, certain he meant my latest chess match with Eliana or some other benign activity.
But he brought his hand up to grip my chin, hard, holding it in place. “Don’t do that,” he fumed at my ear. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood up, straightening my spine. Embracing the lie was the best way to pass it off, a lesson I’d learned quite well, though for half a second, the tiniest fraction of time, I considered laying everything out and giving this to Edward too.
Then the second passed. “That would be easier if I actually did know what you were talking about. And I don’t.”
“You don’t.” It sounded less like a question and more like an incredulous clarification of my last words.
Still, I answered it. “No, I most definitely do not.” Then I held still, my breaths shallow as I waited out his skepticism.
He dropped his hand from my face. “Your determination is almost admirable. I’d be impressed if you weren’t such a bold-faced liar. And there’s nothing I hate more than a liar.”
My stomach plummeted. A minute ago, I’d been glowing in his praise, and now I wanted to crawl under the dining table where I could hide under the long tablecloth.
At the same time, my feathers were ruffled. Being called out irked me, even when it was deserved, because he couldn’t know. It was impossible. He would have confronted me with it long before, and while he’d acted somewhat guarded around me on this visit to the island, what could have happened while he was gone that would fill him in on the truth?
Nothing. There was nothing.
He couldn’t know. He didn’t know, and I wouldn’t stand to be accused. I started to get up so I could face him with my indignation, but his arm around my waist tightened, holding me to him.
“Shall we go about this a different way then?” his voice was controlled and confident. “Who’s A?”
And then my stomach dropped again, hitting the floor this time. Dropping lower still. That simple question proved he did know, as well as told me exactly how he knew.
“You read my journals.” It was the only place I’d referred to Hudson as A, afraid someone would find them accidentally and discover who they were about. There was nothing to protect me, though, when they’d been found in my own possession.
Fuck, if he’d read those...he knew everything. Every terrible thing.