Page 126 of Ruthless Prince
That didn’t mean I was out of the woods, though. He’d replaced punishment with sex. That was why my body ached so much, tired and used from all thefucking.
I used to find that term so crude and nasty—fucking—but now it rolled off my tongue easily. It wasn’t like we were making love, after all. No, it was primal, angry fucking. There was no other way to describe what we were doing to eachother.
Over the course of the last week, Logan had given me a crash course in it, and we’d probably screwed on every surface of my suite. Whenever I was with him, I turned to putty in his hot, devastatingly-wicked hands. It was like a switch had flicked on in my body the other day when I begged him for it. Now I was insatiable, craving sex all thetime.
But only fromhim.
I told myself it wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t actively betraying my brother or anyone else. It was just a survival mechanism. My brain knew that sex was a hell of a lot better than getting whipped or clamped in the torture dungeon, so it made me crave it constantly from the man keeping me prisoner. That was it. I didn’t actually want Logan beyond that, and I still hated hisguts.
He’d accompanied me and my family to the TV studio today so he could keep an eye on me, so I wasn’t entirely free for the evening, but it was better than nothing. Especially as I’d never be free again. This was as close as I couldget.
Right now, he was chatting to a studio exec he knew through his father. Every few minutes, he looked over at me with narrowed eyes, as if he were making sure I hadn’t suddenly spilled my guts to the makeup artist and begged her to help me get away from him. I pointedly ignored him every time, wishing I could slap the possessive expression right off hisface.
“All done, doll. You can head to the green room now,” the makeup artist said. “You lookperfect.”
I smiled. “Thanks,Karen.”
Logan escorted me down the hall. Mal and Adam trailed behind us, keeping up the pretense that they were my loyal security detail.Assholes.
When we arrived in the green room, my mother was standing next to a sofa with her hands on her hips, lecturing Jared on the upcoming appearance. “Remember, honey, it’s live. Do you know what thatmeans?”
“Yes, Mom,” he replied, reaching forward to grab a shrimp puff from a platter on the coffee table in front ofhim.
“There’s no room for mistakes or awkwardness. That means there are certain things we shouldn’t bring up,okay?”
Jared chewed his shrimp and shrugged. “Likewhat?”
“Well, I assume the hosts will probably ask us how we feel about Willow’s engagement to Logan. It won’t look good if you tell them about my reaction when I first heard about it, because I’ve been telling everyone how happy I am. So you can’t mention it. Do youunderstand?”
Jared frowned. “Isn’t thatlying?”
Mom smiled thinly. “It’s not lying if you don’t mention it atall.”
“Yes, it is. It’s lying by omission,” he said. “I learned that inschool.”
Her jaw dropped, and my lips curved with amusement at my little brother’s wit. “Looks like those education reforms you pushed for are finally kicking in,Mom.”
I heard Logan cough behind me to disguise a snort of laughter. Mom turned and glared at me. “Be quiet, Willow. You’ve caused enough trouble.” She snapped her gaze back to Jared. “Just don’t talk about it,okay?”
He shrugged again. “Okay.”
“Good.” She straightened her shoulders and smoothed her designer jacket and skirt before stepping over to a mirror on the back wall to check herteeth.
My father was seated on a black leather swivel chair on the other side of the green room. He kept trying to get my attention, but I ignored him. I had no desire to speak to him unless it was absolutelynecessary.
A studio assistant appeared in the doorway ten minutes later. “Hi, everyone. You’re needed on the set now. Please followme.”
We marched down the hall and stepped onto the talk show set. There were two cream-colored chairs for the hosts on one side of the carpeted floor and an enormous semi-circular sofa for guests on the other side. Mom, Dad, Jared, and I planted ourselves on the sofa, plastering big fake smiles on our faces as the hosts—Dan Timmons and Jules Reid—greeted uswarmly.
Butterflies swarmed my stomach as the overhanging lights went brighter and the show’s intro music began to play. On cue, the studio audience applauded and cheered. Dan and Jules waved and flashed their too-white smiles atthem.
“Hi, everyone. Welcome to tonight’s show!” Jules said. “Can you believe it? We actually managed to get the president to come and visitus!”
There was another resounding cheer from the audience. When it died down, Dan spoke up. “For those of you who live under a rock and somehow have no idea who we’re interviewing today, let us give you a brief rundown.” He gestured to my mother. “Firstly, we have President Quinn Rhoades, a woman who inspires absolutely everyone. Born into a broke working class family in a tiny town in the Midwest, she had nothing compared to most people who enter the world of politics. And yet, with her brains and ambition, she managed to rise all the way to the highest office in our wonderful country. She truly epitomizes the American Dream, and we’re so grateful she’s taken the time to do this interviewtoday.”
Mom affected a humble smile and dipped her chin in a nod of acknowledgement. I had to restrain myself from rolling my eyes. She’d worked her way up from a poor background, sure, but she wasn’t humble aboutit.
“Next, we have Stephen Rhoades,” Dan went on, motioning toward my father. “What a wonderful husband! He’s tirelessly supported his wife in all her endeavors, and from what we’ve heard, he’s a great fathertoo.”
