Because You Are Mine (Because You Are Mine 1)

She woke up to brilliant golden sunlight filtering around the lush drapery. She blinked sleepily, noticing she was alone in the luxurious mussed bed where she’d spent so many erotic, intimate hours with Ian last night.

“Ian?” she called, her voice still rough from sleep.

He came walking out of the bathroom, looking amazing in a pair of dark blue trousers, a stark white button-down shirt, a black silk tie with pale blue stripes, and that belt buckle that always distracted her so much riding low on his lean hips. Had she really seen him completely naked last night, truly seen his awesome reflection in those mirrors, all of those lean, bulging muscles flexed tight as he fucked her?

Had it been a dream, having him hold and make love to her all night?

“Good morning,” he said, walking toward the bed and fastening a cuff link with deft fingers.

“Good morning,” she said groggily, smiling up at him, feeling content in the warm sunshine, sublime at the sight of him.

“I’m afraid I have to leave town for a while. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

Her giddy grin faded. His words echoed around her skull like a ricocheting gunshot.

“I’ve spoken to Jacob, and he’s going to give you a lesson on motorcycles. I’d like you to get that license at the same time he takes you to get your vehicle license. Lin is sending you the “Rules of the Road” for motorcycles. I’m leaving you my tablet to use for studying,” he said, pointing to the table in the sitting area of his bedroom suite. His brisk no-nonsense manner only furthered her stunned disbelief.

“Excuse me, Ian? I’m still sort of stuck on ‘I’m leaving town, and I’m not sure when I’ll be back,’” she said, sitting up partially in bed, propping her upper body on her elbow.

“I received a call this morning.” Was he avoiding her eyes? “I have an emergency to attend to.”

“Ian, don’t.”

He paused at her sharp tone, his hand still at his shirt cuff. His eyes flashed.

“Don’t what?” he asked.

“Don’t leave,” burst out of her throat.

For an anxious, awful moment, silence reigned.

“I know you probably feel vulnerable about last night, but don’t run away,” she pleaded, a little shocked at herself. Had she secretly feared this very thing all night as they talked and made love and truly shared of themselves? Had she been worried all along he would abandon her in the aftermath of intimacy?

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” he said, dropping his arms. “I have no choice but to leave, Francesca. Surely you understand I have business that takes me away at times.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, emotion bubbling in her breast. “Your flying away right now has nothing to do with what happened last night.”

“No. It doesn’t,” he said sharply. “Where is all this coming from?”

She stared down at the bedsheet, not wanting him to see the tears that stung her eyes. She wanted to spit in anger . . . in hurt. “Yes. Where’s it coming from?” she mused bitterly. “Stupid, naive Francesca. Why didn’t I remember this was just a sexual thing, a matter of convenience for you? Oh, and your cock, of course. Let’s not forget that crucial player in the game.”

“You’re acting foolishly. I got a phone call. I must leave. That’s all there is to it.”

“Why?” she demanded. “What’s the emergency? Tell me.”

He blinked, obviously taken aback by her blunt demand. She noticed the corners of his mouth had gone pale in anger. “Because I need to. There are certain things that are unavoidable, and this is one of them. I’m not leaving for any other cause than that. It should be reason enough for you. Besides, your sullen behavior hardly makes me want to confide in you,” he added under his breath, striding away. Fury rose in her. It was too much, having him dismiss her in this way yet again, especially after she’d laid herself open to him last night . . . after she’d thought he’d done the same to her.

“If you leave right now, I won’t be waiting for you. It’ll be finished.”

He spun around, his nostrils flared in anger. “Are you daring me, Francesca? Are you throwing down the gauntlet? Are you truly so vindictive?”

“How can you ask me that when you’re the one who is running away because of what’s happening between us?” she exclaimed, sitting up in bed, holding the sheet over her breasts.

“The only thing that’s happening between us is that you’re acting like a selfish brat. I have an emergency to attend to.”

“Then tell me what it is. At least give me that courtesy, Ian. Or do you think that given the rules of this godforsaken relationship, because of my supposed submissive nature, that I don’t even have the right to ask that?” she seethed.

He reached for the jacket he’d placed on the back of an armchair. Belatedly, she noticed his packed leather suitcase next to his briefcase. He really was leaving. She felt blindsided all over again. He shrugged on his suit jacket and regarded her with a glacial stare.

“As I said, I have no desire to explain myself to you when you’re behaving this way.” He picked up his luggage. “I’ll call you this evening. Maybe you’ll feel better about things by then.”

“Don’t bother. I won’t feel better. I can guarantee that,” she said with as much dignity . . . as much coldness as she could muster.

The color seemed to rush out of his face. She had a wild urge to take back what she’d said, but her stubbornness—her pride—wouldn’t let her. He nodded once, his mouth set in a hard line, and stalked out of his bedroom, shutting the door behind him with a brisk click that sounded horribly final in her ringing ears.