Page 20 of His Dark Purpose

Before he’d met the woman, before he’d so much as even spoken to her, he’d noticed her expressive blue eyes and the fine-looking body she was hiding beneath her drab clothes in the photographs on Graham’s walls. Shewasbeautiful, and even then, in her agitated state, he couldn’t deny her allure.

That was why he’d invited her there with the job offer, why he’d wanted her to stay, even when it was clear she wasn’t qualified to run his estate, and why, ultimately, he’d fallen for her. It was also why, even though he couldn’t trust her, he wouldn’t let her leave.

She washisbeauty—his to worship and look after—and whatever their disagreements, nothing would change that.

“There.” He lifted her final limb from his cuff, leaving the metal attached to his bedstead as he’d done before. “No more cuffs.”

That wasn’t strictly true since he could yank her limbs back into position and slip the metal around them with little exertion, but the point was no longer arguable. She was freed from the handcuffs for the time being.

Sitting up on the bed, she rubbed at her wrists.

“Thank you.” She feigned a smile as though he was stupid enough to allow her pretty face to lull him into any sort of false sense of security.

But he wasn’t.

Not anymore.

He loved her, but hewouldhave his way. If Amy didn’t know that by then, she was about to get a stark reminder.

“I won’t be long, sir.” She wiggled along the bed. “I’ll just pop into the en suite.”

“I don’t think so.” Excitement simmered in his chest as his revelation neared.

“What?” She turned her head to look at him. “I don’t understand. I need to pee, and—”

“And I have made provision for you.” He signaled to the large bucket he’d left at the far side of the bed. The benefit of her emotional meltdown and the subsequent way she’d passed out had been his ability to get everything organized without her even noticing. “My ‘insurance’ ropes at your ankles won’t let you get as far as the toilet, so you’ll have to perch there.”

“What?” she repeated, her gaze traveling between him and the bucket.

“It’s clean.” Suppressing his smile, he gestured toward the vessel again. “You’ll be fine, little girl.”

“But it’s a bucket!” Her voice was caught somewhere between repulsion and outrage. “You can’t expect me to pee in that!”

“It’s that or the floor, little girl.” He arched a brow at her. “And if you mess up my expensive carpet, you’ll have hell to pay.”

“But…” Her brow crumpled, as though she couldn’t understand his words, but he knew better. Amy was a smart woman. Maybe too smart—it was her endless intrigue that had led them both down the dark corridor they found themselves in. “Why can’t I use the bathroom?”

“Because I don’t trust you.” Hadn’t he made it clear already? “So, for now, you stay where I can see you.”

“But what about…” She hesitated, apparently too embarrassed to continue.

“What aboutwhat?” he prompted, though he suspected he knew what she was about to say.

Drawing in a breath, her gaze fell to her lap. “What if I need more than to pee?”

“If you’re good, then perhaps I’ll allow you a few minutes of privacy in that event.” He had to fight to stop himself from sniggering. “And maybe I’ll even clean the bucket afterward.”

“For God’s sake, William!” She flung her arms out in desperation, making him rue the kindness that had seen him unbind her.

“Rephrase that, little girl.” He glowered at her. “Or go back in the cuffs.”

“Sir!”She looked close to tears again, the sight furrowing his brow.

Why was it that she was always in tears?

For weeks they’d thrived in each other’s company, reveling in the sexy dynamic and growing intimacy, yet in the last day, everything had turned to shit. In the new regime, enforced by his cuffs and scowls, there only seemed to be space for crying and shouting, not loving and trusting.

“Go now.” Motioning to the bucket, he retreated to the middle of the suite. “Before you do yourself damage. There’s a roll of toilet paper there for you.”

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