Page 67 of Stolen Vows
“But I never did anything important.”
“You brought in clients, built brand trust, and managed his reputation without even realizing it.Those are legally yours already even if you don’t accept them.”
The smugness in his tone makes me think stripping my father of all his assets was already part of his revenge but giving them to me fills him with savage glee.
His enjoyment is contagious.I smile and wonder how I found such fortune as his lips tilt into a smirk.
He takes the heavy stack of papers off my lap and gestures to the original documents.I take a pen from the side table and add my initials and signature in the designated spots.
Emotions buoy my stamina for a few minutes, but breakfast sits heavy in my stomach and my entire body feels weak and sore.When he offers me his elbow, I use him as leverage and rise.He ushers me back into bed, but when he turns to leave, I grab his wrist.
“I know you probably have things to do but—”
My heart leaps into my throat when he slips his wrist out of my grip, but he walks around the foot of the bed and settles on top of the covers.Lying on his back in jeans and a black t-shirt—I swear this guy never wears the same clothes twice—he laces his fingers together behind his head and closes his eyes.
“I’m right here,paperotta.Get some sleep,” he says.
I forgive his abrupt mannerisms and roll on my side to face him.I grasp the knife under my pillow and twirl my fingers into my hair out of habit, but he’s the only protection I need.
Sleep snatches me away from the world between one breath and the next.
I wake with my neck at an odd angle and a brick for a pillow.Fabric presses against my face but hot, smooth flesh greets my hands.I hum and snuggle closer to the gigantic furnace.It smells so nice, too.Like soap and man.
I stiffen in horror as reality settles over me.
Fuck.I rolled onto Mario in my sleep.With my head on his chest, my hands under his shirt groping his abs, my breasts flattened against his ribs, and my leg thrown over his hips and trapping his erection, I may as well be humping him like a bitch in heat.
By his stillness, he’s been awake for some time, enjoying my mindless groping.
I lift my head and glare at him.
His chuckle bounces me around on top of him.
At least I didn’t drool on him this time.Embarrassed and eager to roll away, I shift.
He snarls and bands his arm around my back.
“No.Stay,” he demands.
My heart squeezes and my anger flips into gratefulness.
He stayed.I’ll stay, too.
Even if my body betrays me.My nipples harden and a blush works up my chest and face.
Although my mind is much clearer than when my pain was at its worst, I still equate the achiness in my joints and tenderness in my abdomen to my father’s unwanted touch, and the last thing I want is to associate my trustworthy husband with my snake of a sire, so I pull my hands out from underneath his shirt.
He snarls and pulls me tighter against him.
“You started this,paperotta.Don’t stop now.Touch me.”
I want to touch him.I also want to replace the helpless feeling with a sense of power.
A flash of insanity blips through me.Instead of pushing away the crazy, I lean into it and tilt my head.
“Only if you keep your hands off me,” I challenge.
To my surprise, he grins and lowers his arms to his sides.
