Rule's Seduction (The House of Rule 4)

Erin’s eyes closed involuntarily as another shiver of response rippled through her. Damn. Who knew she was such an evil woman? She’d undoubtedly go to hell for the thoughts and feelings she had for her brothers’ enemy—even if those feelings were against her will.

She knew one thing—she couldn’t keep a lid on her exploding emotions for much longer. She needed to get away from him for a while to regroup—and pronto. “I think I need to rest now, Max.”

He came to his feet at once, pressing a bell, and stood over her where she sat. “Yes, of course. Whatever pleases you.” His fingers caressed her shoulder as he stared into her eyes. “That’s the way it will be, Erin. You have only to ask for something and if it’s within my power, you’ll have it.”

Erin rose to her feet, her heart beating in triple time. She began to move away, but Max reached out and encapsulated her wrist until she was facing him again. While a summoned maid waited by the doorway, he towered over her as he looked down into her eyes. “Don’t think too hard about this, Erin. Take our relationship at face value, which is the only truth you need to be concerned with. We’re married—I want you as my wife—and I’ll give you every fucking thing your heart desires.” His fingers tightened in a controlling, yet caressing move. “In and out of the bedroom.”

Her heart stampeding like an out-of-control freight train, Erin gave him a last lingering look before she dipped her head and followed the maid up the stairway.

****

When Erin left the room, Max sank back down on the sofa. Had she believed him at all? The choice must be hers? Had those words actually left his mouth? It was true that he’d initially planned on giving her a choice—as little as that choice was meant to be. But now? After he knew how it felt when her internal muscles contracted around him as she came? After he had the honey-like taste of her skin memorized? After he’d had a full twenty-four hours to get used to the idea that she was legally his? Hell no, fuck no, he wasn’t giving up that shit. She didn’t have a choice at all; there wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d let her go.

Of course, it was imperative she believe she had a choice, tiny as it was. He needed things to run smoothly, and that would only happen if she thought she had a choice, and therefore, the things he had said had been necessary. But did she really have a choice? He knew himself—and the answer to that question was—not a snowball’s chance in hell. No choice. Zero choice. She was staying here, with him. He wasn’t about to let her go—not today, not tomorrow, and as far as he could foresee, not any time in the near future.

****

When Erin woke up, all traces of lingering headache and jet lag were gone. When she glanced at the clock, she knew the reason why. She’d slept twelve hours. As she sat up in bed, she noticed the indent in the pillow next to hers. A thrill, followed by a cold chill, ran down her spine. Had he slept beside her?

Refusing to dwell on it, she got out of bed to inspect the bedroom suite. She needed to stay busy for a while, before she forced herself to think about the choice. What choice did she really have? And hadn’t she already made it? For the moment, she let herself forget about the angst of her situation to look around and get her bearings.

The suite was as beautiful as the rest of the house. The bed itself was huge, an American king, and it was done in colors that were soothing to her eye—thank goodness. The suite held a sitting room with French doors that opened to a balcony of white stone. A circular wall surrounded the balcony and it contained a small outdoor dining set and twin lounge chairs.

An explosion of pleasure hit her system as she turned completely around and took in the entire outdoor area. The loungers and dining set had matching cushions of a deep red color with a Greek key pattern—which happened to be one of her favorites. The stone wall contained a built-in fireplace, which she had to admit, was one of the things she’d always been enamored of in an outdoor setting.

The patio, at first glance, was indescribably romantic. If one were in the mood to be seduced by romance.

The bedroom suite contained two dressing rooms that flanked a single bathroom, and a quick peek behind the first door gave Erin the answer she was looking for. The bedroom suite definitely belonged to Max—it couldn’t be otherwise with a blazing row of overhead lights showing off designer suits and crisp, pressed shirts, which took up the walls of the dressing room. She could even detect his lingering scent. Her stomach flipped and she quickly shut the door. So. She wouldn’t have her own bedroom—not unless she asked and even then it would be a long shot.