Consent (The Loan Shark Duet 2)
It’s that and much more. The mountain resort is hidden in the lush hills, surrounded by a forest. The main building has stone walls and a thatch roof. Everything shouts luxury and extortionate rates. When we enter the lobby where several well-dressed guests are conversing, I feel self-conscious about my clothes, but Gabriel’s arm is around my body, sheltering me against his side. A concierge rushes forward and greets Gabriel by name.
“Your room is ready, sir. Would you like me to escort you?”
“We’ll have breakfast, first. My wife is pregnant, and she needs to eat.”
“Of course. What may I get you?”
“Everything,” Gabriel says, “and my men will order from the menu.”
“Yes, sir.”
Gabriel’s guards follow, but they keep enough of a distance to give us privacy. We’re escorted to an indoor garden where a table is set with silverware and paper-thin bone china. Evergreen creepers ornate the glass walls that give a view of the mountains and the valley.
“Not too cold?” Gabriel asks as he takes my coat.
There’s a bite in the autumn air, and the day is overcast. “It’s warm enough inside here, thank you.”
He seats me before taking the opposite chair. A waiter arrives with coffee and an assortment of herbal teas. I opt for a mint infusion, as coffee doesn’t agree with my stomach, of late. More waiters deposit silver-covered platters on the tables lining the sidewall. They lift the lids to reveal every kind of breakfast food imaginable. There are sausages, bacon, fried potatoes, eggs, porridge, pancakes, cereal, fruit, nuts, croissants, sweet pastries, cheese, and a variety of cold meat cuts. Gabriel’s men are not seated with us, but there’s enough food to feed ten times the small army.
“This is too much,” I protest.
“I didn’t know what you could stomach. Besides, I didn’t want to waste time pouring over a menu. It was easier to simply order everything.”
“The guards can eat with us. At least not all the food will be wasted.”
“The guards are fine.” He turns to the headwaiter. “Pack up whatever we don’t eat and deliver it to the homeless shelter.”
“Certainly, sir.”
Gabriel turns to me. “There. Happy?”
“Shall we serve, sir?”
“We’ll manage, thank you.”
The staff exits discreetly, leaving us alone.
“We need to get some food into your body,” he says. “What do you fancy?”
“Just some fruit.” I look at the spread. “I’m sorry, but the smell of everything else makes me queasy.”
“Don’t ever apologize for how you feel.” He gets up and places a selection of fruit on a plate, which he carries to the table. “Orange?” He spears a piece on a fork and brings it to my mouth. Piece by piece, he feeds me until half of the plate is gone and I assure him I can’t eat another morsel.
“You didn’t eat enough in Durban.” His expression turns somber. “Your stomach probably shrunk. We’ll have to fix that.”
“It’s just the pregnancy. Aren’t you hungry?”
The way his gaze trails over me detonates sparks on my skin. He still wants me, and my body hasn’t stopped wanting him. Not for one second. Not even after he bullied me into marriage. The conditioning of old kicks in. My panties turn damp as he takes my hand and rubs a thumb over my wrist.
As quickly as he took my hand, he lets it go. An uncomfortable silence follows as he serves himself a full English breakfast and eats while I sip my tea.
He only speaks again when he pushes his empty plate aside. “We need to talk. I know you don’t want this, Valentina, but there’s no turning back. You asked me why I gave up my bachelorhood to protect you. You’re going to be the mother of my child. You and our child are my responsibility, and I’ve never been scared of my responsibilities. You’re family, now. Your debt has been wiped clean. You never have to fear for your or Charlie’s life again. We’re going to be a family, and I know it won’t be easy. All I ask is that you try. I won’t deny you anything within my means to give. Ask and you’ll have whatever your heart desires.”
I swallow at the end of his speech. “Charlie and I, we owe you nothing?”
“You have no more debt.”
What he offers is noble, but I have to understand if we’re equals. “Are you saying I’m free?”
A stony expression replaces his earlier tenderness. “No.”
“Then nothing has changed in terms of what I owe you.”
He leans back in his chair, putting distance between us. “Oh, but it has. Everything has changed.” He holds my eyes. “Before, it was nine years. Now, it’s forever.”
The statement startles me. I bite my lip to stop it from trembling. How clever. He changed the game, the rules, and the implications. What did I think a ring on my finger meant? I’m still a toy. The only difference is this time it’s for life.