Page 33 of His Dark Purpose

Just what I need.A chatty cabbie.

“My mum lives there.” Holding the guy’s stare, Seth waited for the driver’s gaze to flit back to the road before he slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“Are you staying with her?” The driver’s inquisition went on. “You don’t have much stuff.”

Seth glanced down at the small bag he’d left prison with. “Yeah, it’s kind of a spontaneous trip.”

Staring out of the window, his gaze fixed on the cityscape. The light was fading from the sky, and it wouldn’t be long before it was dark. He was glad to see the back of the urban jungle before night fell. Whoever William Kyle was, he could surely put Amy Kendal’s first son up for a night. After all, he seemed to have looked after her youngest son well enough.

“Nicer problems to have, eh?” the driver chuckled. “Staying at Brock Hall… I’ve heard that place is huge.”

“Yeah.” Jonah had said so, but it took more than a big house to impress Seth.A lotmore. “Remember what they say, though, mate… size isn’t everything.”

Chapter Eleven

Descent into Darkness

Kyle

Kyle stirred, waking with a start. Scanning the bedroom, he realized the space had filled with shadows since they’d fallen asleep.

It must be nighttime again.

How long had they been lost in his bedroom?

It seemed as though they’d been holed up in there for days, their time enmeshed with cuffs, ropes, and drama, yet still, she was there in his arms, her warm skin melding to his. She was safe, and he was happy.

Amy.

Kissing the back of her head lightly, he inched away from her. He didn’t want to wake her and hoped the additional rest would see her wake in a brighter, more hopeful mood, so slipping out of the sheets quietly and leaving her be seemed like the best idea.

He tugged the blankets up to cover her shoulders, scanning the disheveled bed. More than one fray had taken place there recently, from her fine form being spread-eagled in his cuffs to the way he’d dropped her back there after their impromptu but incredibly gratifying fuck. It had been one hell of a ride.

“I love you, little girl.” Whispering the words, he backed away, his thoughts returning to the tangle of their relationship.

After all the angst, they’d managed to find a sense of serenity in the onslaught. He was still angry that she’d found his files and didn’t doubt that she was still upset by what she’d found, but he hoped the pleasure they’d created in the wake of her spanking had reminded them both what their relationship was all about. They’d found something together that was special—something worth fighting for.

Finding his robe on the back of the bathroom door, he slipped it over his shoulders and flicked on a standing lamp at the far end of the suite. The light spread pale illumination over his half of the room but did nothing to disturb his lover. Hunger clawed at his stomach, reminding him it had been hours since either of them had eaten. Whatever the time was, he could head downstairs and rustle up something for them.

Tying the belt at his middle, the thought pleased him. He wasn’t much of a chef, but he was sure he could come up with an omelet. He’d leave her in bed until then and wake her with a hot meal. It didn’t matter that their body clocks were out of sync. They could talk and fuck some more, then rest again. So long as they were together, everything was okay. He was sure their routines would eventually fall back into line with the rest of the world.

Smiling at the certainty of the feelings swelling within him, he glanced back at the sleeping woman in his bed, but rather than the hope and joy he’d expected to resonate at the sight of her, it was that old sense of paranoia that tugged. He’d tried to talk to her about the way she’d behaved, about the ranting and swearing that had led to his needing to bind her, but despite his best efforts, he hadn’t really found much reassurance.

Predictably, she’d seemed more exasperated withhisbehavior and had refused to accept much responsibility for her plight. Her undiluted defiance made it difficult for him to truly trust her.

Doubt knotted in his gut as he edged closer to the end of the bed. He despised the urge to fetter her again, not because he loathed the binds—he loved them—but because of what they represented. The cuffs still hanging from his bed weren’t gestures of erotic surrender or his desire to pleasure her but signs of his distrust.

Leave her, then.The thought echoed in his mind, taunting him.Leave her and let her prove that she’s trustworthy.

All well and good…the opposing view snarled.But what happens when she wakes, discovers I’m gone, and goes sniffing around for a way out?

Anxiety furled in his throat, temporarily cutting off his oxygen supply. She’d still be angry, and she’d want to leave him.

I can’t let that happen!

Resolve settled over him.

“I have to bind her.” His voice was low as he crept around the side of the bed. “To keep her safe.”

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