Page 47 of His Dark Purpose

“None of that was your fault, sir…” Her voice trailed to silence. “Apart from the eviction, maybe, but I know we couldn’t afford the rent, and it was reasonable for you to ask us to leave.”

“You’re being generous.” God knew he didn’t deserve it. “But it’s not true; I could have done more.”

“Oh, sir.” Tugging her delicate hand from his, she encased her palm over his fingers. “You’re a good man, but you’re not a hero. How could you have helped a woman you didn’t even know?”

“But that’s just it, little girl.” The pain in his core tightened until it was almost impossible to ignore. “I did know you, or, at least, I knewofyou…”

“Because you asked Graham to share me, you mean?” She screwed her face up at the thought, obviously still appalled by his suggestion.

“Yes.” It hadn’t been his finest hour, “but also because I neverreallylet you go, Amy.”

“I… I don’t know what you mean.”

“I was bewitched by you, little girl.” He ensured their gazes locked, her gaze cementing him as the bedroom spun. “Even then. After Graham turned me down and I started eviction proceedings, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

She pulled in what seemed like a steadying breath, her tone lower when she finally spoke again.

“Whatdid you do, sir?”

“I kept an eye on you.” There was no pride in his voice as he told the truth, no sense that he’d been right, only the certainty that he hadn’t acted to help her when he could have—when heshouldhave. “Watched where you moved to and checked on your credit rating.”

“My credit rating?” Her voice was clipped, though she didn’t break his stare.

“Yes.” She might as well know the whole litany of his offense. “I watched from a distance when I could have been there for you.”

“Why?” She tried to pull her hand away, but he caught her wrist, compelling her warm flesh back to his lap. “Why would you w-watch me and not act?”

“Sir,” he prompted, conscious his control over her was starting to slip. “Why would I watch you,sir?”

Control was the one thing he’d chased his entire life—authority over the people and situations around him—but gazing into her hurt expression, he realized for the first time how futile that power was. In the end, he couldn’tmakeher do anything. Hell, she was right; he couldn’t keep her chained there forever.

One day soon, he’d have to release her, and on that day, she’d be able to choose whether she stayed with him. Brock Hall wasn’t her prison. It was never supposed to be. He’d brought her there for sanctuary and solace, not isolated incarceration.

His throat dried as the weight of acceptance settled over him like cold water. Love wasn’t something to be chained up and controlled, and until he learned to let go, he could never truly call what they sharedloving.

Glancing at her cuffed wrist, it was all suddenly clear to him. He had to set her free to know if she was truly his. She had to remain with him because it was whatshewanted, not because he demanded it like an edict.

“You want me to call you sir when you’re telling me all of this?”

He didn’t appreciate the sharp edge to her tone, though he understood why she employed it.

“I want you to call me sir because you know I’m the man who’s mastered you, little girl.” He fought hard to push down the desire to tug her over his lap and punish her delectable ass for the mistake. He was communicating hard truths, most of which she wouldn’t like, and there was bound to be some pushback. For the time being, he’d just have to accept her wrath. “I want you to call me sir because you love me.”

A tense hush stretched out around them as she, presumably, grappled for what to say.

“Okay.” Her gaze narrowed, and he could see how difficult it was for her to reconcile what he had said. She probably detested what she was hearing but knew hehadmastered her. No doubt she was struggling to marry the two equally valid concepts. “Will you tell mewhy, sir?”

“Because I wanted you.” His voice cracked with desperation as he revealed his motivation, his head falling from the weight of his shame. For the first time in his privileged life, indignity simmered within him, a sense that he should have done better. He’d never been short of money, influence, or opportunities, yet he’d always chosen the easy path rather than the ‘right’ one.

“I wanted you in my life, Amy, but it had to be at the right time. I knew you’d lost Graham, and I didn’t want to force myself on you in your grief, but…”

His words dried up, faltering as his wall of truth collided with his blurring lies. If he had been worried about her grief, he’d never given it any thought before. All he’d done was sit on his hands, watching from the sidelines and waiting for the walls of her world to come tumbling down so he could pounce with impunity.

“But?”

“But I couldn’t let you go, little girl.” An odd veil of clarity washed over him as he looked into her big eyes. “I know you didn’t know me then, but I longed for you. You have no idea how you stimulate my life.” He smiled wistfully. “I can’t sleep without you, Amy, can’t think without you.” His free hand rose to rub his temple, his fingertips still clutching at the key. “I can’t function without you.”

She stared at him, not speaking for the longest time, but he noticed how she’d stopped trying to yank her hand away. He hoped it was a good sign.

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