Page 173 of Breaking Rosalind

Hope warms my chest, and I hold back a smile. If she’s offended that I tried to kick her out on our first night, that’s promising. It means she wants my attention.

“You want the truth?” I ask.

She nods.

“You were an amazing fuck, but you kept getting under my skin with all those insults.” I trace my fingers along her jawline.

Her lips twitch, and she tilts her head, giving me better access to her neck.

“Think that’s funny?” I ask.

“I can’t believe you were so easy to rile up back then,” she says. “It’s like you’ve evolved.”

“You keep me on my toes,” I mutter, wanting to kiss her soft lips.

She closes her eyes again and turns, giving me a delectable view of her back. I scoot behind her and spoon her body. To my surprise, she doesn’t flinch. My palm slides over her belly and I rub slow circles over her supple flesh, wondering how it would feel if she ever got pregnant with my child.

I smile at the thought of having a smaller version of Rosalind. A dark-haired little girl with bright hazel eyes who would look to me for protection and guidance. With Rosalind as her mother and me as her doting father, she would never feel abandoned and isolated.

My cock swells at the thought of filling her with so much cum that she bears my child, and I tighten my arm around her waist. My lips find her neck and I gently nuzzle her skin, lost in the thought of owning Rosalind so completely.

She shivers under my touch, but doesn’t pull away. “Go the fuck to sleep.”

“Promise you’ll stay.”

“What are you talking about?” She turns her head but doesn’t make eye contact.

“You’re planning to kill me after I’ve transferred the funds to the academy.”

“No,” she says with a bite.

I close my teeth around her earlobe. “Don’t lie to me.”

She pauses for several moments before exhaling a long sigh. “I was thinking about doing it after we dealt with the Moirai.”

“Was?” I ask, my chest lifting with hope.

“You’re not worth the effort.” She closes her fingers around my arm and shoves it off her waist.

“Because you’re warming to me,” I say with a smirk.

She huffs. “You wish.”

“I really am sorry, Rosalind,” I say, meaning every word.

She rolls onto her back and turns to meet my gaze with eyes so pained I draw back to suck in a breath. What I did to her cut deeper than anything she had to endure as part of being an assassin. I think of how she was impregnated by her father and stiffen.

Could I be as bad as that incestuous rapist?

“You can’t erase days of torture with money and an apology,” she says.

“What can I do?”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head as though the question is far too complex for a simple answer. I study the contours of her face in the flickering light of the fire, marveling at the way her long lashes rest perfectly against her high cheekbones.

I wanted to see what was beneath her beautiful, strong exterior and I found someone I can’t let go.

My gut twists with regret. I should have treated her better, given her more respect. Even if she was part of a plot to destroy the family, I should have recognized she was a pawn in a much larger game.

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