Rule's Seduction (The House of Rule 4)

Unease made her heart beat erratically. “Are you saying you have the means to topple it?”

His gaze became rapier sharp as his hand dropped from her face to land on the gold band on her finger again, as if to remind her of it. “I rarely bluff.”

She steeled her backbone, attempting to ignore the inappropriate tingling running down her spine, and forged ahead. “What do you hold against them?”

He let out a bark of laughter and shook his head. “Not going there, love. I don’t think I’ll show you my hand just yet.”

That answer didn’t surprise her; she hadn’t really expected him to tell her what aces he held, if any at all. But his explanation didn’t make any sense. “It sounds like you want to put my brothers out of business. But you also say that you’ll allow me to stop that from happening. So, you can understand my confusion. Do you want to topple the corporation or not? Or are you saying you don’t care one way or the other?”

He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly before replying. “I seek satisfaction for past actions against my family and seeing the Rule Corporation fall would definitely achieve that goal. However, although I want to see your brothers suffer, I don’t particularly care what leads to the suffering—as long as they know it’s at my hands. So it’s up to you whether or not their tower crumbles.”

At his pointed and too-calm explanation, the panic she’d been valiantly attempting to suppress manifested itself into near hysteria as an immediate, terrifying chill ran down her spine at the thought of his revenge being taken out on her . . . in a physical way? Holy effing shit. What the hell had her brothers done to his family? Was Garrett somehow to blame? They were all good men, they couldn’t have done anything—it must be some kind of a mix-up. But her faith in her brothers wouldn’t get her out of the fix she was in now.

Anxiety racing along her veins, she forced herself to breathe and tried to pretend that she wasn’t quietly going ballistic on the inside. “To clarify . . . these are my choices? Allow you to topple the corporation . . . or let my brothers suffer another way? How? Knowing that you’re holding me hostage and abusing me daily?” She swallowed and through stone-cold fear, forced herself to go on. “You intend to . . . hurt me?”

****

Chapter Five

An immediate crease formed between Max’s brows as his spine jerked away from the back of the seat. “Certainly not.” Although his answer was reassuring, his physical reaction was not. Stiffening as if she’d slapped him across the face, he gripped her upper arms like bands of iron as he hauled her to him, until his face was only inches from hers. “Why the hell would you jump to that conclusion?” His expression turned into lines of aggravation as his unyielding grip sank into her flesh while he pushed the words out one at a time, “You’re never going to feel even a hint of pain at my hands—I’m going to treat you like spun gold. You’ll live the life of a princesa, don’t doubt that for a single second.” His features hardened even more. “Understand me when I say that you are my wife, and you’ll experience all the care and respect the title holds—as long as you are respectful in return.”

Finding herself held in a death grip, her adrenaline spiked as her nerves made breathing difficult. His wife . . . a princess . . . spun gold? She was relieved at the sincerity of his words, but her anxiety level stayed in the stratosphere—how could it not? His hands were like steel cuffs, his words bitten out through clenched teeth. How in the hell could he scare her so badly yet still make her insides go soft and quivery?

He’d said he wouldn’t hurt her, but just a few hours before, he’d threatened to do her physical harm if she called him ‘Mr. Villarreal’ again. The threat certainly hadn’t sounded as if he’d been teasing—and in no way had it sounded like some kind of foreplay. He’d meant the threat—or so she’d thought at the time—just as he’d meant the threat about locking her up. Hating herself for the weakness she was feeling, her emotions in turmoil, she schooled her features to reveal nothing. “I still don’t understand. How will my brothers suffer if I’m being treated as a . . . a princess?”

It was as if all his impatience receded as his polite reserve came back once again, making her wonder about the inner machinations of this man’s mind. She’d never met a guy who could blow so hot and then so cold.