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I guess he tried. He’d bottled up his cruel side for my sake.
And therein lies my answer to why I could never hate him. Why my love for him is embedded in my DNA. Why despite everything, my body responds to Marcus’s suggestions, his voice, his demands.
One weekend can’t eviscerate the depths of my feelings for him. I doubt anything ever will.
But this, keeping me locked up, is bad. I’ll resent him. I’ll bite back when I should hug him.
Yes, I enjoy his aggressive side. Except it can get too much. What if the other Marcus never comes back?
It’s up to me to fix it. To help balance him.
I throw the blanket off me and get off the couch, determined to find a way out of here. Some secret passageway he plans on sneaking through while I sleep.
Goosebumps prickle my skin like wildfire at the thought.
Focus, Leigh.
The first place I head to is the heavy leather chair behind his desk. I need clothes, and Marcus snatched the T-shirt I wore earlier when he stormed out of the room. But there it is, Marcus’s navy-blue suit jacket hanging at the back of his chair.
He’d left it here for me on purpose.
I’ve learned plenty about Marcus Kingston over the past twenty-two years and even more so over the past weekend.
Leaving anything to chance isn’t his thing.
Building this house behind Rylan’s back—and he has, otherwise my bestie would’ve been here saving me already—must’ve required a shit-ton of planning. Hiring contractors, moving that much money around without Rylan noticing. The sex toys he’s stocked on.
He’s calculating, and that’s an understatement.
He’s also out there, right this fucking minute. Outside the house. I feel his eyes on me. Watching me. Waiting for me to wear another one of his garments.
Playing into his hands is sick. My other option is staying naked, which isn’t much of an option. I refuse to be that vulnerable.
I shrug on his coat, inhaling his virile scent inconspicuously. Covered up, I twist to seek him out in the shadows.
No one’s there.
The chill rushing up my spine, however, tells a different story.
Whatever. Let him watch me trying to get out. I owe this to myself and him. I’ll run, then we’ll go back to Santa Barbara and start all over again.
Now, where is that hole in the wall I’m looking for?
The expensive fabric of his coat caresses my skin as I head to the heavy wood shelves installed into the brick wall by the door. My still-sensitive flesh reacts to the teasing of the material. My nipples harden with every step I take.
I don’t enjoy this. My arousal pisses me off, and I lift my hand behind me, flipping off the glass walls.
Fuck him for having a hold of me even when he’s not touching me. It’s been like this for far too many years. It’s the reason why I turned down one boy after the other. Why I betrayed my best friend by peeping on her dad.
What’s changed now is that I’m actually entitled to this childish response.
I’m answered by nothing but silence. I lower my hand, getting over myself. I have other matters to take care of.
My fingers trace the book spines one after the other, searching for one that seems out of place. My eyes are closed as I tune in to feel the books. One of those has to be the one that’ll set me free.
Then I’ll outrun Marcus, hide in the shadows. Give him the space to consider how wrong this is. For his sake and mine. Hell, we might even be able to date once he realizes we don’t have to act this crazy to love each other.
You love his crazy, though.
