Rule's Seduction (The House of Rule 4)

Dropping his gold pen, he stood to his feet in what was obviously a show of respect. “Good morning. You slept well, I hope?”

She had slept—it must have been a combination of stress and jet lag that had knocked her out so thoroughly.

“Yes, thank you,” she said in a controlled voice—trying like hell not to lose her temper the moment she saw him—conniving asshole had her passport.

Inclining his head, he stepped from behind his desk and strolled to the front, where he casually leaned against it, folding his arms over his chest as if prepared to indulge her. “You’ve found everything you need so far?”

“Yes, thank you.” Would he indulge her? How far exactly? Could she manipulate him to do her bidding? As she watched him watching her with a primitive hunger that he wasn’t trying to hide, she realized abruptly that she held a powerful weapon in her arsenal. Women had been manipulating men with sex since the dawn of time—could she do the same? She’d never in her life anticipated having such a base thought, but could she be blamed for having the idea now? And should she be worried at the shiver of excitement the idea generated?

She had no other tool to use against him—and they were at battle—could she win the entire war if she tried? And if she did win, what would she win exactly? Max? A marriage as he described, where she would have his attention, his affection, everything she secretly desired for her future, sans her brothers upset? Turning the tables on him would be the ultimate revenge. Losing his heart to her would totally serve him right for using her as a pawn. And who knew? Maybe she’d choose to stay married, once he was irrevocably in love with her.

He continued to study her intently, making her nerves jump. One side of his mouth twisted in a half smile as he continued to appraise her. “You’re being very polite.”

She felt a flurry of butterflies that she ruthlessly suppressed. She couldn’t let him get to her—he’d taken her passport. “That’s a good thing, right?” Did that sound like flirtation in her voice? She hoped so—where else was she supposed to start in her quest to win?

His eyes glinted with a show of approval . . . and something else. “Very good, darling.”

Erin took a deep breath and in a non-combative tone asked, “My passport seems to be missing. Do you have it?”

His lips firmed as a dangerous light touched his eyes. “I do.”

Keep it together, Erin—keep it together. “Why?”

He paused a moment too long before answering, “I’m merely keeping it safe for you, love.”

She narrowed her eyes; she couldn’t help it. Then she pasted on a fake smile and said through gritted teeth, “That’s so sweet, but I’d like it back.”

“I thought you were staying here,” he volleyed immediately.

She nodded stiltedly. “I am, but it’s my passport and I can keep it safe all by myself—truly, it likes to live in my purse.”

His legs shifted—just that much apart—his body language reflecting a hint of irritation. “Your purse isn’t the place for a passport. Don’t worry about it—I’ve got it when you need it.”

“Max—”

“Yeah?” he interrupted.

“I’m trying not to lose it here. There’s no reason you should have taken it—”

“I’m your husband,” he retaliated quickly, harshly.

She inclined her head as if agreeing with his statement. “True. But my passport is—”

He interrupted her with biting words, his eyes sharp and his stance firming. “Do you understand what marriage means in Latin America?”

She could see it in the set of his facial features—he was about to announce that he was the supreme ruler in their relationship. “Argentina is a democracy,” she argued, “Surely you’re not saying that women don’t have equal rights?”

His voice turned harsher than anything she’d heard from him as he enunciated each word. “I’m saying that there are two people in our relationship. As your husband, it’s my job to decide what’s right for you—as my wife, it’s your job to obey me in all things.”

Erin was temporarily struck mute as an added quiver of unease formed in the pit of her stomach. She felt anger, she felt panic, she felt very real fear. She’d never expected he would lay it out like that—even if she had suspected he felt that way. And this from the man who’d confiscated her passport, virtually holding her hostage in this marriage. Her heart began a torrential beat as she watched him watching her. “There are laws in this country—”

“My law,” he cut in forcefully. “The Provinces are almost entirely autonomous—we’re left alone to do as we wish. Look around you, Erin. I own everything as far as the eye can see and then some. The people you see here work for me. I pay them a more than respectable wage and they’re loyal to me because of that reason. The men who wear guns do so at my bidding to protect what we’ve built here—most are so loyal that they’d die for me—so who do you think makes the laws here?”