Rule's Seduction (The House of Rule 4)

“Certainly, love. That’s a fair request. You can have a room of your own—just not a bedroom.” He held out his hand and waited while she stared at him suspiciously. He remained silent, only lifting a single brow while he waited for her to join him. Tentatively, she placed her palm in his. As soon as her hand was in his, his fingers tightened alarmingly. “But first there’s the matter of the obscene gesture you made.”

Erin ignored the apprehension that made her skin prickle, and rebelliously, lifted her free hand and raised her middle finger in the air again. “Oh, you mean this?”

In a lightning-fast move, he closed her hand into a fist, and holding both hands captive, he began walking her backward until her butt touched the edge of the bed. Her breathing quickened, she felt a shameful heat flush over her face as she lifted her chin and stared unblinkingly into his eyes, waiting for his next move.

His hips came forcefully against hers as he thrust a knee between her thighs. Captive, her thoughts scattered as she felt the evidence of his desire pressed against her.

His lips flattened as his eyes impaled hers. “There’s something you need to understand. Coming from you, I can take the gesture one of two ways—as either an insult or an invitation. Would you like to clarify how you meant it, darling?”

Erin’s mind began racing. An invitation? No way. An insult? Her breathing snagged; she didn’t want to know what the ramifications of insulting him would be—especially not this close to finding herself flat on her back. If he was being honest, that he wouldn’t hurt her . . . her heart began beating triple time when she realized abruptly how this situation would manifest itself. She didn’t think she was ready for that yet. She needed to get out of the situation she’d created, so she dropped her eyes and asked softly, demurely. “Can I get a pass, please? Just this once?”

He waited the count of five beats before answering. “Certainly, love. You weren’t aware of the rules before—but now you are. So just to be clear,” his hand slid down and encompassed her breast, squeezing possessively, threateningly. “I want you to feel free to shoot me the finger in the future—as long as you realize that you’re either insulting me or inviting me, yes? And that my reactions will be reflective of your meaning.”

She took a deep breath, attempting to ignore the stroke of heat his touch was inducing. “Yeah, okay.”

His eyes narrowed, his hands releasing her as if making a decision. “Come.”

She trailed behind him as he led her back down the stairs and showed her into a room with a flourish of his hand, motioning her inside a small sitting room adjacent to the library and then standing back quietly as if awaiting her inspection.

At his silence, she asked, “Are you giving this room to me?”

“Yes, of course, if it suits you.”

It was a room that was beautifully and tastefully appointed, but it had no door, only a large open threshold separating it from the hallway. Erin walked more fully inside and continued to look around. Even though it didn’t have a door and wasn’t what she was hoping for, she wasn’t going to turn his offer down . . . maybe there was something here that she could work with.

“What are my other choices?” For some reason, she knew it was best not to complain of the lack of a door—she knew exactly what his reaction would be if he knew she wanted to lock him out.

“The atrium.”

Erin dismissed that idea abruptly. The room was too large and held too many windows. She wouldn’t find the privacy she sought there. “This will do.” She glanced around at the two loveseats that formed an L. “May I consider this mine, then? May I move the furniture around and such?”

“You may consider it yours. However, I don’t want you moving anything heavy—get the servants to help you.”

“But everything looks lightweight in here—I can move it myself.”

An arrow of impatience shining in his eyes, he began pacing over to where she stood. Facing her, he sank his hand into her hair and stared down into her eyes, holding her captive. “We’ve been through this already this morning, Erin. I make the rules—you obey them. You won’t move the furniture by yourself—you’ll hurt yourself. You’re not strong enough.”

“Well, I may be smaller than you, but I’m certainly not weak,” she refuted. “You don’t even know me,” she muttered.

His hand tightened in her scalp, pulling her forward until her hips met the steel of his thighs. “I know you’re my wife—that’s all I need to know. And if I tell you not to move the furniture, you won’t move the furniture.”

How could she live under his rule when she’d been living independently since the day she’d left for college? How could she live under his every dictate? Even her chest-beating, cavemen-like brothers didn’t dare say crap that would knowingly piss her off. Feeling the need to protest, her lips opened with what, in retrospect, was obviously the wrong challenge. “I can make my own decisions. I can decide what I’m capable of.”