Volatile Love (The Gilded Sovereign 2)

“You need to go home, forget about me, and all this will be okay.” I watch her press the bottle to her lips. The action of her pouty lips makes all sorts of filthy images pop into my mind, and I have to turn away before she notices my slowly hardening shaft.

“I can’t leave. I’m a sworn Crown.”

“My father is not going to stop his plan,” she mutters, pushing off the couch and turning to the window. I watch her for a moment, taking in the soft curves that are hidden by her dark jeans and the black hoodie that I know hides a perfect set of tits. I’ve only ever seen her in tight tank tops before which is enough to give me a good idea of what she’s hiding.

“I don’t give up that easily, Rukaiya.” My tone is filled with a warning. One that I hope she doesn’t ignore because I don’t want to walk away from this and see her get hurt. As much as she fights me, I crave to see her finally submit. To admit her feelings for me, the ones I see dancing in her eyes, but she’s too damn stubborn to admit.

“I’m not weak. I’m not some little sheep waiting to be slaughtered,” she bites out, turning her green eyes on me. They’re filled with fire and determination, and every second that she locks those orbs on me turns me inside-fucking-out.

“So, you’re the wolf?” Arching a brow at her, I grin, picturing her as a shifter of sorts. She’d be beautiful as a majestic creature—green luminous eyes, soft golden fur, and a bite that could take any man out.

“If you want to call me that I wouldn’t be averse to it.”

Nodding, I stalk toward her, we’re inches from each other, and I could easily kiss her. But I have a feeling if I do, she’d knee me in my junk, leaving me to crawl after her.

“I have to go, he’ll be watching me, and if I don’t get back, I’ll lose the progress I made.” Her voice wavers as her stare lingers on mine, then slowly tracks its way down to where my towel hides my growing erection. Being this close to her isn’t doing me any favors.

“How are you so young, yet so fucking perceptive?”

“It took me a long time to learn. Growing up with a father like Fergus Harrison was challenging. Even as a kid, I had to make sure I was one step ahead of him.”

“Did it work?”

She’s silent, as if contemplating telling me more, confessing the pain she’s already been through. I want to pull her into my arms and tell her it’s going to be okay, but I don’t want to make a promise I’m not sure I can keep.

Rukaiya shakes her head, deciding against saying anything more. She turns and walks to the door. I don’t follow. I prefer watching her when she walks away.

Her hand on the doorknob stills, casting a glance over her shoulder, she tells me, “Stop trying to save me, Etienne. I’m not a damsel, I don’t need a knight in shining armor.” And with that, she’s gone.

Fuck.

I should go after her, stop her from going back to that asshole, but she’s determined to do this on her own. Perhaps I can allow her to think she’s alone, but still be her fucking shadow and when she least expects it, I’ll make myself known.

Making my way into the bedroom, I pick up the phone and dial Dad’s number. It rings twice before a woman answers in a soft voice, “Isaac’s phone, how can I help you?”

“Put my father on the phone,” my voice is filled with annoyance that he has his new plaything answering his calls. She doesn’t sound like she’s much older than I am, which only makes me even more irate that he left me for a life with some young piece of ass.

“Hello?”

I don’t bother with a greeting; instead, I question, “Who’s that?”

“Etienne,” he says my name as if it’s a surprise I’m calling him, which is such bullshit. Frustration ebbs through me, burning every nerve in my body. I want to punch something. At times, I can understand why Ares loves the ring so much. When you need to hit something, it comes in handy.

“I’m not a child anymore; you don’t have to shelter me from your life, Dad.” I know he can hear the anger that’s laced on every word I mutter, but knowing him, he won’t bite.

“She’s my assistant, Etienne. I’m at the office, where I work,” he speaks to me as if I’m still an annoying little ten-year-old begging him for my allowance. Or a new X-Box, or something else that will distract me from him and mom’s fighting.

“I need more information on the Harrison girl,” I tell him, not bothering to answer him about his assistant. “Her father is up to something, and I don’t trust the prick.” My voice is filled with ice when I think about Fergus.