Volatile Love (The Gilded Sovereign 2)

“He hasn’t told me what the hell I’m doing here. He also hasn’t told me when I can leave, which is what I’d like to do. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d much rather head back home and leave you to do whatever it is you wish.”

“No wonder my son is so enamored by you,” Mrs. Durand laughs, the sound is low and husky, as if she’s been smoking all her life. But her voice is nothing like that. Instead, it’s a smooth, low tone that reminds me of my own mother’s when she was trying to calm me down.

“What?”

“Etienne is rather taken with you, darling,” she tells me something I already knew. “Isaac, my ex-husband, told me our son has been doing stupid things to ensure your safety. He was always more of a lover than a fighter.” Her gaze lands on Yasmine, a pointed look that tells me something happened between the two women. Perhaps something had been going on between Etienne and his best friend’s mother.

A shudder trickles through me when I think of him with someone else, let alone a woman who is old enough to be his mother. I don’t at all judge those who have certain needs, but to me, there’s something icky about it. Mainly because I know Etienne isn’t that much older than me. And Tarian’s mother has been thought dead for a long while, which means it would’ve happened years ago.

“When can I go home?” I ask again, tired of the back and forth game that’s so clearly going on in this house. Nobody wants to offer any truths, and it’s frustrating me.

“You are home, dear,” Yasmine smiles, and I take in her expression, how her curious gaze dances over me. “I think you’re misled in wanting to leave here before Thane has had his meetings. You’re part of the agreement,” she tells me.

“What agreement?”

“That’s enough,” the deep timber of the older man echoes through the living room as he enters wearing a dark suit that hugs every curve of his broad shoulders, tapered hips, and his thick, muscled thighs. His dark hair is tousled with gel, and his eyes glow when they land on me. “Go to my office,” he barks the order before anyone can argue.

My feet move quickly as I leave the room and make my way down the hall.

I’m settling in one of the chairs opposite the desk when Thane finally joins me. He’s taken off his jacket, and now I notice how his shirt is practically molded to his frame. Once he’s seated, he looks over at me, taking in every inch of me.

He steeples his fingers under his chin before he speaks. “You know, you’re quite feisty for someone who is—”

“Being held prisoner?” I ask, not caring anymore who I insult because this is getting ridiculous. “I just want to go home.”

“What if I told you that you are home?” he challenges, and I’m tempted to laugh it off, but his serious expression has me thinking otherwise.

“I’ll never be home in this place,” I admit, hoping it stings him when I’m rude, but he seems unaffected by my sass. “It’s illegal to keep me here.”

“Is it?” This time his challenge is filled with amusement as if I’m being an errant child not listening to her parents. The thought stills me, and my mind is filled with something that I’d pushed down long ago—the idea that I’m not really Fergus’s daughter.

“I mean… none of this makes sense. Why would my father leave me with you? Someone I don’t know. How can he trust I’ll be safe here?”

“I’ve known your father for a long time, Rukaiya. Since before we were even at college. He grew up near Tynewood, and when he left, I asked for his help.” Thane sighs as if remembering the time as he reminisces. “When I was seventeen, I was young, rich, and born to a family that offered me everything in my wildest dreams.”

His blue eyes land on me. Emotion flickers in them, more so than I’ve seen in the past few hours since we met. Last night, he was cold, almost closed off to any affection, but right now, there’s someone new looking at me. No longer a stranger, but someone I want to know and learn more about.

“I met a girl when I was finishing up high school. As much as Fergus told me to steer clear, I didn’t listen. I was used to getting what I wanted. And she was everything to me, but…” His words taper off into nothing, filtering into the vast space between us, and I hang on every murmur because I need to know the truth.

He moves the paperwork on the desk, shuffling the pages in a white folder around, until he finds what he’s looking for. He rises from his seat and rounds the desk as he gazes down at whatever is on the white sheet.