Rule's Addiction (The House of Rule 3)

“He said it was a rental . . . his is in the shop.” Garrett popped the trunk and retrieved their bags.

“Did you really catch him with his pants down?”

Garrett choked off a laugh as they walked inside the house. “No, but it was damn close. He had the girl’s shirt unbuttoned.”

“That’s not quite so bad then,” she said, even though she was wincing for the other woman; it could have been much worse.

“Yeah? Tell him that. You would have thought I’d seen his virgin bride stark naked, spread-eagled on his bed instead of getting a miniscule glimpse of some random woman’s bra.”

“Maybe that’s why he got so mad. Not because you said he’d been caught with his pants down, but because she’s not a random woman,” Maria said, glancing around at her gorgeous surroundings.

“Trust me, they’re all random women when it comes to my brother. He’s not going to settle down with one, at least, not anytime soon. You can take that to the bank.”

“He seemed pretty upset.”

Garrett dropped their bags in the living room. “Yeah? Son-of-a-bitch shouldn’t have been here to begin with. He’s got a condo in the city as well as a house in the suburbs. Why he felt the need to bring her here is beyond me. I’m going to change the goddamn locks.”

Just as the words left his lips, they halted in front of a huge window and Maria’s heart almost stopped beating at the picturesque view she was seeing. “Maybe he was trying to impress her with this,” she said, tilting her head toward the lake. “It’s beautiful, Garrett.”

“Yeah? I think so.” He came to stand behind her and Maria felt his arms snake around her middle as he pulled her back into his front. “I love it here. It’s peaceful. Home, you know?”

Just as he said the word ‘home’, a vision of the hotel popped into her head. That’s how she felt about the hotel, crazy, but it was true. The building didn’t belong to her, it didn’t have a view like this one, but she felt a sense of peace and belonging when she was there. “Yeah, I know,” she whispered, looking out at the shimmering water with the lights of the evening dancing along the currents.

His head fell to the crook between her shoulder and neck and with a tiny thrill of sensation, she felt his teeth bite into her flesh. “You want to tell me why you put on that particular dress this morning?” His voice was a dark rumble as his teeth slid across her skin, his words producing a level of distress.

“No,” she whispered, closing her eyes, confusion mingling with sexual excitement, holding her senses hostage. Was he going to start on that again? Was he, even now, planning on punishing for her wearing the damn dress, as if forcing her halfway across the Continental US against her will wasn’t enough?

“Ahhh. . . I’m going to take that as an admittance of guilt,” he said the words so neutrally that, for the life of her, she couldn’t tell if he was angry. “You did do it on purpose,” he finished knowingly.

“I don’t—” she gasped on the denial, interrupted as his hand snaked down and slid over her mound.

He held her back to his front with an arm clamped across her midsection as he palmed her heat with the other. “Did it work?” he asked at her ear while he caressed her, making ripples of longing slide down her spine. “Did you get the reaction out of me that you were expecting?”

Those words definitely weren’t angry; Maria heard pure seduction in his tone and responded to it with a wave of heat, making it difficult to stay with the conversation. “I wasn’t expecting to be in St. Louis by this evening,” she panted.

“What were you expecting?” he asked again, as if trying to get her to yield something to him.

“I don’t know,” she compromised.

“Is that an admission?” His hand between her thighs stopped moving; it clamped around her and held her possessively. “You wore the dress on purpose?”

Maria licked her lips and took a deep breath, feeling like she was about to jump off a ledge. “Yes.” She felt a shudder run through him at her answer, almost as if she’d pleased him.

“Why?” he asked urgently, wanting her to admit the complete truth.

She swallowed, not ready to give him that much. “I don’t know.”

In the space of a heartbeat, he spun her around, tipping her chin up with his fingers. “Why’d you do it?” he bit out, determined.

“I don’t know,” she said again.

“You do know,” he challenged.

Her pulse raced as he stared down at her. “Yes . . . kind of . . . not really,” she confessed in utter confusion.

“You were trying to make me jealous,” he said, as if the idea pleased him.