“I asked her the night I had dinner at your place.”
“As easy as that,” I say bitterly, getting to my feet. “It’s getting late. Since you’ve finished feeding me, I’ll be on my way.”
He stands, walks around the table, and stops next to my chair. “I didn’t bring you here just to feed you.”
Swallowing, I stare up at his handsome face. “Why did you bring me here?”
Cupping my cheek, he says in a husky voice, “To teach you manners.”
CHAPTER 23
Leon
Violet’s pretty eyes flare as she looks at me. She’s so goddamn beautiful I want to pull her against my chest and kiss away the defiance that sparks in the lavender depth of her angry gaze. If she stopped being angry, defiant, and obstinate, she’ll see how good we can be together. I’ve never loved a woman, but I know how to please them and make them happy. If she lets me, I can easily fall for her in a way I’ve never fallen for anyone. When I do, it will be hard.
I brush a thumb over the silky skin of her cheek. “I want to own you, Violet Starley. I want every part of you. I know what I’m asking scares you, but you don’t have to be afraid. I’ll make it so good you won’t remember why you were wary to begin with.”
She steps back, leaving me with my arm raised in the air and my hand empty.
“We don’t want the same things,” she says.
I don’t allow the space she puts between us. I go after her, putting our bodies flush together. The softness of her curves and the warmth of her skin only make me want to touch her more. My intention turns my voice hoarse. “I think we do.”
Indecision plays over her face. Her lips part, but the words don’t pour out. She’s not contradicting the statement, because she knows as well as I do it will be a lie. The night I spanked her is proof of that. She needed it. She loved it.
“We’re attracted to each other,” I say. “I’m up for a promotion. I’ll have a good position in the company, although I don’t need the salary to take care of you. I can give you everything you want. Ask, and it’s yours.”
“Except freedom,” she says in a small voice.
“How much freedom do you have now?”
She looks away.
“I saw how much freedom you have in Gus’s house, Violet.”
She faces me again with a scowl. “So you’re offering me one prison in exchange for another. That’s a lousy deal and an even lousier marriage proposal.”
“Like I told you, I’m not asking.”
“Then why try at all to sell me the idea?” she asks with thin lips and accusing eyes.
“I’m trying to make you see reason. Fighting it won’t help. You’re only making this harder on yourself.”
Turning her back on me, she says, “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Good.” With a swift movement, I fold an arm under her knees and lift her into my arms. “Because I’m done talking.”
“What are you doing?” she exclaims, squirming and pushing on my chest.
“You said you wouldn’t see the inside of my bedroom.” I tighten my hold. “I warned you about challenging me.”
“Put me down, Leon. I mean it.”
Her wiggling doesn’t slow me down. I climb the stairs to the first floor and carry her inside my bedroom, kicking the door shut behind me before depositing her on her feet. She’s not my prisoner, but I turn the key in the lock to make sure the message comes across clearly. She backtracks to the bed when I pull the key out and drop it in my pocket.
Advancing to her, I say, “Defying me only compels me to chase you harder. I told you, darling, I always win.”
She lifts her chin. “Meaning I’ll always lose?”
“This doesn’t have to be a battle.”
“But only you get your way?” she asks, staring up at my face with angry sparks popping in her eyes as I stop in front of her.
“You’ll get your way plenty. You only have to ask.”
“I’m not one of your whores,” she spits out, her feisty temper always fast to ignite. “It’s not as simple as shoving money down the front of my shirt and making me come.”
“I prefer sex worker. Whore has a derogative connotation, and those ladies deserve respect for being honest about their intentions. They don’t lie to get what they want or pretend to be someone they’re not. Some people marry for money, yet you won’t call them whores.”
“Like my mom?” she asks, her nostrils flaring.
It seems I’ve pushed a sensitive button. “Your mother didn’t cross my mind, but yes, I suppose she falls into that category.”
Drawing back her arm, she slaps me hard across the face. “Don’t you dare insult my mother.”
I touch my cheek where the sting of her fingers lingers, tamping down my own anger as I reply in a measured tone, “You shouldn’t have done that.”