Consent (The Loan Shark Duet 2)

Leaning over the table, he grips my chin, but there’s nothing tender in the gesture. It’s dominant and brusque. “It’ll be easier for both of us if you don’t let your disappointment show so easily.”

With a jerk of my head, I free myself. “Why must it be forever?”

“You’re mine, Valentina. I’ll never let you go.”

“Why?” I whisper again, needing to understand so badly it eats a hole in my soul.

“I don’t need a reason. When I first saw you back at Napoli’s, I wanted you, so I took you. Now, I’ve decided to keep you.”

The teacup is shaking so much in my hand I have to put it down. “What about what I want?”

“I said I’d do everything in my power to make you happy. Our time together doesn’t have to be miserable. It can be good. Just accept the way it is, and things will be easier for you.”

The part of me that needs to be loved rebels. “I’m still your property.”

“As my wife, you’ll be respected and protected.”

“As long as I stay.”

His expression darkens. “You ran from me once, but I won’t let you run twice. The next time it happens, the person who’ll suffer is Kris. I’ll ruin her, break everything she’s built in her life, and kill her. Do you understand?”

The food pushes back up in my throat. It feels like a knife is twisting in my stomach.

“I asked you a question, Valentina.”

Tears blur my vision. I don’t want to cry in front of him. I don’t want him to know he has an effect on me. Blinking away the moistness, I give him the answer he wants in a voice hoarse from suppressed tears. “Yes.”

“Good.” Pushing back his chair, he comes around to my side of the table and wraps his arms around me. “In time, you’ll get used to it.”

I don’t say anything. A deep-sated knowledge presses down on me. Gabriel is a man of his word. He did what he said he would. He found a new kitten, and this time, he’s not letting it go. All I can do is pull up a protective barrier around my heart. If I’m to survive this new arrangement, I need to be strong, but the first cracks are already showing. He’ll break me, after all.

After our wedding breakfast, Gabriel takes me for a walk in the garden. True to his word, he tries to make this good for me. He has his arm around my shoulders, ensuring I don’t slip on the stepping stones that are wet from dew, and points out bird species.

At the edge of a pond, we stop to admire the view.

“I was thinking,” he says, “that maybe you’d like to do charity work.”

I look at him quickly.

“Now that you’re not studying or working,” he continues, “you’ll have time on your hands. I know you had your heart set on being a vet,” he rubs a finger over the knuckle of my missing thumb, “but how about starting a dog rescue program? I’ll sponsor all the money you need.”

It’s too much, too fast. I haven’t made peace with my new future, yet. I need time for everything to sink in and to adjust to my new circumstances.

“Thank you. I’ll think about it.”

He touches my cheek. “You’re pale. Still nauseous?”

“A little.”

“Come on. Let’s get you to the room.”

I don’t ask for how long we’re staying or why, assuming this is our pretense of a honeymoon.

The room is spacious and comfy with decorations in neutral colors. We have no luggage, but the bathroom is stocked with everything I need, including a toothbrush, comb, fluffy robe, and slippers. The tub stands against a ceiling to floor glass window that reveals more stunning views of the valley.

“Do you mind if I have a bath?” I ask. “I’ve been washing in a basin for three months.”

A shadow crosses over his face when I mention the basin, but he doesn’t comment on it. “Sit over there.” He points at the wicker chair in the corner. “I’ll run you a bath.”

Emotionally, I feel depleted. I flop down in the chair, watching Gabriel prepare a bath with oil that smells of lavender. My life is no longer my own, but I’m too tired to fight it. Sometimes, swimming upstream becomes too exhausting. Will it be terrible if I, just for a while, go with the flow? Maybe, when I get my strength back I’ll fight again, but now isn’t that moment.

“Come here,” Gabriel says when the bath is filled with steaming water, holding out his hand.

Disobedience comes with a price. Pushing to my feet, I cross the floor and stop in front of him. A moment of silence follows as he looks at me, his thoughts impossible to read. When he finally acts, it’s with determined, strong movements. There’s nothing insecure or hesitant in the way he grips the hem of the T-shirt and drags it over my head. Burying his fingers under the elastic of my underwear, he pushes both the panties and sweatpants to the floor. As his fingertips skim over my legs up to my hips, my body heats, coming alive under the light caress. The power of his touch is familiar. I’m both devastated and ecstatic to discover his magic still works on me. I crave his body, but feel guilty about wanting the man who tied me to him with the invisible chains of marriage, and worse, Kris’ fate. As always, he leaves me no choice. I’m powerless to prevent his touch or my arousal. I’m powerless to do anything but feel.