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“You own me.”
“And who am I?”
For a moment, she didn’t understand what he was asking, and then it hit her. Her eyes unfocused as his lips slid over her cold cheek.
“Who am I, princess?”
“My husband.” Her voice was hoarse with strain. She wasn’t sure why that label was so significant, but it was, and they both knew it. She wore his ring and bore his name once more, but she hadn’t claimed him. And he’d noticed. She called him anything but the label he once had. It helped keep their arrangement in perspective, but he was trampling through her boundary lines, muddying and confusing everything, as usual.
“Look at me.”
Her jaw set. He didn’t allow her any space. Physical, emotional, mental. He was constantly pressuring her, so she couldn’t think straight. Aggravated brown eyes met those of a pitiless warrior.
“Again.”
Her body tensed to rebel against the submission he was demanding, but her mind knew she wouldn’t win. It made the decision for her.
“You’re my husband.”
He massaged her nape, rewarding her. “And you’re the only woman I’ve ever envisioned as my wife.”
Before she could process that, he kissed her.
He started slow, teasing. His ability to switch from domineering, possessive psycho to indulgent lover left Jasmine mentally reeling. When she tried to turn away, the hand on the back of her neck tightened, holding her still as the kiss deepened. He leaned into her, pressing his hard body against her soft curves. His fingers tunneled into her hair and tugged hard enough to make her protest, allowing his tongue to invade and duel with hers. His hunger swamped her, heating her blood, emptying her mind. When he gripped her thigh, they began to spread in offering, which snapped her out of the sexual fog. She wrenched her mouth from his and buried her face in his chest.
She could hear his heart thudding and felt the coiled tension in him. She knew he wanted to expel it in the only way they knew how to resolve things. When he tried to ease back, she wrapped her arms around him and whispered, “Please.”
She sensed him battling his flesh and ran her hands over his muscled back, hoping to pacify and distract. He stiffened with rejection, but a minute later, he relaxed into her. She rested her cheek against his still damp shirt as his hands moved up her sides.
“You found your new clothes.”
The mundane topic eased her raw nerves. “You hired a personal shopper?”
“I already had one through Grayson. I threatened to fire him when he kept filling my closet with crap I’d never wear. He’s toned it down since then. I told him to contact Daiyu for your measurements. I’m sure he was happier shopping for you than he is for me.”
So, it wasn’t a live-in lover who’d tried to spruce up Roth’s wardrobe. Jasmine didn’t like the spurt of relief that loosened the knots in her chest.
“He went overboard,” she said.
“In what way?”
“I’m never going to wear those gowns.”
“You will. I’m cutting back on travel, but we’ll return for events I can’t miss.”
She tensed. “What events?”
“Nothing you can’t handle. You pointed out how many mutual acquaintances we have. I’m sure you’ll know most of the guests at any function we attend.”
The reference to last night’s argument made her straighten. “You never answered my question.” When Roth raised a brow, she prodded his rock-hard pecs. “Why are you doing business with so many of my father’s friends?”
“They’re not friends. They’re colleagues. There’s a difference.”
“William Davies is family to me. I had sleepovers at his house with Penelope and?—”
“They may be an exception, but it’s dangerous to consider these people friends. Maximus strived to keep everything professional. He didn’t allow Colette and Ariana to develop close emotional ties in case they needed to be severed.” He considered her thoughtfully. “Strange that his strict standards didn’t extend to you. He allowed you to develop relationships with his colleague’s children, which has served you well. Those bonds are still intact despite the intervening years. Your sisters haven’t maintained many relationships beyond the boardroom.”
Jasmine refrained from pointing out that Roth didn’t have any relationships in or outside of work, but he was speaking freely, and she needed answers. “Out of the thousands you could do business with, why them?” she asked doggedly.
