Page 34 of Indulge
He drops her plate of eggs in front of her with an apologetic smile.
“Thanks, rockstar,” she whispers.
I arch a brow at my brother. We will be discussing this nickname.
That gets him moving. He disappears down the hall, leaving me alone with her.
Bella sips her latte. Sweet. Innocent. Deadly.
“Enjoying yourself?” I ask.
“Immensely,” she purrs, voice thick with that British lilt.
My jaw tightens, but I keep my posture lazy, like she hasn’t already burrowed under my skin. “Good. Because it ends now.”
Her smile falters, just slightly.
“We’re not playing house, Bella,” I continue, voice low. “This isn’t a vacation or some game you can flirt your way through. You and I have business. A marriage. An alliance. And it’s past time we talked about what that means.”
She raises a brow, cocky as ever. “Oh? Finally ready to have a real conversation with your fiancée?”
I step closer, enough to smell the vanilla clinging to her skin, but not close enough to touch.
“It’s been eight hours, Bella. You’ve been asleep six of them. Are you really that needy, Princess?” I whisper.
Her mouth makes a perfect ‘o’.
“I don’t like being left alone. I will get into trouble, Reggie.”
“Clearly,” I mutter, unamused.
“Dinner tonight? At our house. Alone. We’ll go over the terms of this engagement properly.”
Her lips part, and I see the spark in her eyes—the thrill, the defiance.
“Our house,” I repeat, letting the words sink in.
Because she needs to understand. This isn’t Rowan’s game. It isn’t her game.
It’s mine.
“Fine,” she huffs.
“And what am I meant to do all day?” she asks, elbows resting on the table.
“What are your hobbies? Or I don’t know? Do you read?”
She blushes.
“You wanna take me book shopping, Irish?”
I shrug, and she stands, then she squeezes my bicep.
“I’d need a big, strong man like you to carry my smutty book haul round.” She winks and then she’s gone, like this place is hers.
Leaving me watching her ass sway as she struts down the hallway with her plate of eggs my brother cooked her.
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