Jamal’s eyes roamed over my bare face, studying and examining every inch. I shifted in my seat at his scrutiny, my right hand moving to rest on my thigh. His eyes narrowed on me and my fingers found a stray thread peeking at the side seam of my pants.
I twirled it around my finger and watched my index finger blanch to avoid his searing glare. Then I released it and repeated the action.
Finally, he cleared his throat then said, “I have some rules you’ll have to abide by while you’re here.”
I abandoned the thread I’d been playing with and my eyes snapped back to him. “Rules?”
“Yes, rules.”
I let out a disgruntled huff. “Listen, if you’re about to order me around, I’ll leave now.” I jumped to my feet, but before I could storm out of the room, he’d gotten out of his seat and rounded his desk, sitting at the edge.
I stood still.
His annoyance bubbled in the air. “Sit down, Sienna. I wasn’t finished,” he ordered, his voice hard.
The way he said my name, his voice dipping on the last syllable, made my stomach clench and my eyes moved instinctively to his mouth.
No! No, no, no, Sienna.
I needed to leave the room. Immediately. I turned around, but his hand wrapped around my wrist. I faced him and tried to yank my wrist out of his grip, but he only held it tighter.
He tilted his head to the side and pinned me with a glare. “I said. Sit. Down,” he repeated with the same tone.
A small chill traveled down my spine at the sound combined with the feel of his touch. He hadn’t touched me since, well, earlier, and I thought it was an anomaly then, but his touch still made my skin prickle in goose bumps.
I smothered a hard swallow, my eyes never leaving his. “Wasn’t marrying you enough?”
“The rest of our lives will be pretty entertaining if my wife is this easy to rile up,” he said more to himself than to me. He let go of my arm and I pulled it closer to my chest, my other hand rubbing where his hand previously was, trying to get rid of the residual sensation his touch left behind.
He propped himself against his desk, crossing his arms above his chest. “But to answer your question, you were mine, so it doesn’t count.” He motioned for me to sit down with a flick of his hand.
I broke our eye contact and sat down. My gaze landed on the envelope opener on the corner of his desk, imagining what it would be like to stab him with it to try and distract myself from what him calling me ‘his’ made me feel like.
I took my eyes off the envelope opener to look at him again, only to find him looking me up and down, appraising me.
“Then talk,” I said, unable to bear his scrutiny any longer.
“My rules are simple. Number one. Since we’re married, we’ll need the outside world to believe we’re actually happily married. Which means you’ll be required to accompany me to any social event I need to attend.”
Required? Who does he think he is?
“I’m a resident. I can’t just fit my schedule to your needs.”
“We can work around it.”
Well, that was easy.
“Fine, anything else,sir?” I say, stubbornly crossing my arms over my chest.
“You’re free to come and go as you wish, but I need to know where you’ll be at all times. And before you argue, it’s for your safety.”
“But—”
He chuckled, and the sound was entirely patronizing. As if me wanting agency over my own life was amusing. His gaze turned dark as he placed his hands over the arms of the chair I was sitting on.
“No buts, love. Displease me, and I’ll punish you. Defy me, and I’ll punish you. Do you understand?”
I shifted in my seat, his proximity rousing something inside me that I would have rather not defined right now. But his scent of musk and a hint of vanilla warped my senses, and I fought the urge to grab his tie and bring him closer, to discover what type of punishment he was threatening me with.