SWNOVELS Chapter 62
Chapter 62
What could he do. What, really, was the other option. Could he, somehow, claim her for his own–convince Daniel to give her up,
to move on to someone else –
Kent scoffs at himself, then, putting his hand over his face, disgusted. What was he thinking – trying to find a way to take his son’s fiancé from him? It was unthinkable, despicable. Daniel would never forgive him, and Alden-
God damnit, Kent had never been in such a tight spot. Had
never wanted something so badly, and yet had it so completely forbidden to him- in terms of morality, of honor, of political alliance, of family. Absolutely forbidden.
Yet as every day passed, Kent felt his control over himself slipping,
bit by bit. If he loses control of himself, he knows that he will lose
everything. And yet….
It doesn’t help, sometimes, when she looks at him that way. When
she half–lids her eyes and pulls her lower lip into her mouth. Like
she’s holding back too.
Kent slams his fist against the table again, forcing his mind away from the thought.
What the fuck was he going to do.
Chapter 62
2/4
At that moment, the door to the dining room swings open and
Fiona breezes in. “Hey baby,” she says with a big smile, settling into her seat across from him. “What, you couldn’t wait for me?”
She looks up at him, then, and her smile falters. She can see,
clearly, that he’s in a foul mood and she has to tread very, very
carefully if she wants to get out of this in one piece.
“Wait for you?” Kent says, narrowing his eyes at her. “Why should
I wait for you, when you are late?”
Fiona glances at the grandfather clock on the far wall and notes. that, yes – shit – she was five minutes late. Still, she tries to keep
it light as the chef comes through the door again, putting her own
entrée and bread in front of her.
“I didn’t know we were on such formal terms in this house,”
she says casually, trying a small smile. “I’m sorry, I won’t be late again.”
His eyes narrow further, and Fiona realizes she miscalculated.
Shit. The right choice would have been all apology – no joke. She
screws her mouth shut, looking down at her plate and taking a
piece of bread out of its little basket, fiddling with it between her
long–nailed fingers..
“Do you think,” Kent asks slowly, dangerously, “that I should wait
for you? That as the man of this house, I should be at your beck
and call?”
Chapter 62
Slowly, Fiona shakes her head. “No,” she says. “You’re right, I
should have been on time.”
3/4
“Damn right you should have been,” Kent says. He knows, deep down, that he’s being unfair to her. He doesn’t care, really, if she’s been late. But he’s so worked up–feels so powerless – and Fiona
is there to take it out on.
“After all,” he continues, pushing his plate away from him. “You are not my wife,” he says, cruel. “You are here, eating my food, wearing the clothes I buy you, spending my money, in my house, just so you can give me pleasure. When I desire it.”
Fiona blinks at him then. Never, ever, has he stated their relationship in such stark terms. He never called her his girlfriend she knew it wasn’t really like that – but really? He had basically
just called her his whore.
Kent sneers at her, watching the realization of his insult break out
onto her face.
“Is that…” Fiona starts, unable to stop herself. “Is that really how you see me?” Slowly, she puts down her piece of bread.
“Yes,” he says, leaning back in his chair, enjoying the feeling of power that comes when he sees her balk. “And right now, I want you to go upstairs. To my chamber. I want you to wait for me
there.”
Chapter 62
“Kent –” she says, going pale.
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“You are not my wife,” Kent says, banging his hand on the table. “You are here at my leisure. And if you decide that you no longer wish to be, no longer wish to receive my generosity and my gifts,”
he says, “you are free to leave at any time.”
Her chin begins to shake a little, in fear and frustration. What had
she done wrong? Still, she knows her place in this relationship. In
reality, she always has. Kent lets her get away with a lot – treats
her, spoils her, rarely contradicts her.
But really, deep down? She’s here for one thing.
–
Slowly, she stands and giving him a proud look she can’t help
walks from the room, heading up the stairs. To the third floor,
the attic. The room that he keeps there. The room she absolutely
hates.
Kent calls to the chef for his next course. When it’s delivered, he quickly slices the steak into pieces, biting it down without tasting it. When he’s finished, he tosses his napkin onto the table and follows Fiona up the stairs.
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