“No…” She pleaded with him.
He merely raised a brow at her.
“Mr. Denning,” she added hastily. “Please.”
Fuck, she was killing him. But this lesson had to take precedence. He might not respect her choice to come here for money, but he refused to let her believe he saw her as a whore.
Shaking his head, he tried not to soften in the face of her entreating stare. “You’re my submissive and my wife.”
“Yes, but—”
“No,” he corrected. “I have not touched another woman since our wedding night. And to set the record straight, if I intended to use you simply for my pleasure, nothing would have stopped me from fucking you right now, especially not the resentment you’d feel afterward. I want you to think about that, Mrs. Denning. I’ll be back.”
Chapter Four
The door shut behind Jason, enclosing Gia in his bedroom by herself. His words hung in the silent room and reverberated through her body. His sudden absence made her feel ridiculously alone, but having him gone didn’t stop her body from throbbing for what only he could give her. With her breasts bare and her pussy exposed, she couldn’t not be aware of her naked vulnerability. Nor could she seem to pry her heart from her throat.
What the hell was going on?
As a police officer, the idea of being restrained in a man’s bedroom somewhat against her will should bother her. But Jason had relegated her to a desk because he didn’t want her hurt or killed hunting down Tony’s killer. Her husband would never physically harm her. On the other hand, he would very likely make her heart bleed—as if she hadn’t already been suffering since their separation.
If he hadn’t aroused her just now with the purpose of wringing every bit of his money’s worth from her body, then why had he touched her? To prove he could rev up her libido? Or something entirely different? Everything about his behavior in the last twenty-four hours confused her. She’d assumed that he wanted a divorce and that he sought to make her pay with her body before he paid in cash. Now…she wasn’t sure. If he’d brought her here merely to use her before he began legally shedding her, why would he insist he’d been faithful? Or speak her married name so emphatically, like he meant to underscore the fact that, at least on paper, she was still his wife.
Once, she’d believed that he loved her. He’d never said the words, but what he lacked in verbal affection he’d more than made up for in a hundred other ways, like his romantic, over-the-top proposal. Like remembering that she loved stargazer lilies and having huge bouquets stuffed with them at their last-minute wedding.
Like having chocolate mousse for her tonight?
Gia closed her eyes. Why couldn’t everything be different? The night she and Jason had married, she’d been on top of the world. He’d been the most dashing groom. Somehow, in less than twenty-four hours, he’d seen to every detail of their elegant ceremony. He’d even had a selection of insanely beautiful wedding dresses delivered to her door so she could pick one and have it hemmed or tucked as needed.
That night, she’d been Cinderella at the ball, swept into his glittering world for an enchanted evening, fooling herself into imagining that she belonged beside him. Her phone ringing with the news of Tony’s murder had been her clock striking midnight. Reality had ripped her from fantasy. Suddenly, she’d realized that her brother was gone forever, her parents didn’t know she had a husband, and she had a mountain of responsibilities that weren’t going to go away simply because she’d been foolish enough to marry a man she couldn’t keep.
When she’d forced herself to let go of Jason mentally, Gia had been sure he would forget her within a month or two. Six at most. But nearly a year later, he seemed resistant to the idea of releasing her for good.
Was it possible he still cared?
Gia glanced at the clock. He’d only been gone ten minutes. Somehow, it felt like a week. But that wasn’t new. For unending months after their marriage, being away from Jason hadn’t been a mere ache, but a plague—a ceaseless yearning that had hounded her days and haunted her nights. After just a little taste of him tonight, the need thrumming inside her, demanding to be close to him was twenty times worse.
What was she going to do about their marriage? As much as she still had feelings for him, she didn’t see how she could toss aside her common sense again. But even if the two of them living happily ever after was a fantasy, the thought of letting him go again made her heart constrict.
The door opened, abruptly ending her thoughts. Automatically, she curled her legs up to her chest to hide as much of her nudity as possible.
Jason quirked a brow. “Lower them.”
He stood stock-still until she complied, flattening them on the bed once more and revealing her breasts.
“Spread them,” he demanded.
She dug deep to tamp down anger—and the even more insidious arousal. No way could she let him know. Already, she’d begged him. Stupid move. Jason had so much command over her. Tipping her hand and revealing how much she wanted her husband would only give him more.
Still, she couldn’t stop her trembling as she parted her thighs. His stare immediately dropped to her sex, and his eyes gleamed with satisfaction. She stung with both desire and shame.
“Excellent. More mousse?” he asked, sauntering to the nightstand and taking the crystal dish in hand.
The chocolate was scrumptious. Since Jason could usually take or leave anything sugary, she suspected he’d had someone whip up the dessert for her. The surprising gesture was sweet—a word few associated with him. But Gia had seen that side of him before and knew it existed. Yes, he’d been an ass tonight, but she had expected as much. He was angry and hurt, and she bore most of the guilt for their faltering marriage. Throwing his thoughtfulness in his face now would only be juvenile.
“Yes, please.”
He relaxed, as if pleasantly surprised that she hadn’t rebuffed him. Then again, after months of rejection, why should he have expected anything else from her? Guilt gnawed at Gia again.
“Open up.” Jason sat on the edge of the bed and spooned up some of the mousse, then brought the heaping chocolate toward her mouth.
Willingly, she opened for him, cradling all the goodness on her tongue while he fed her. The independent woman in her probably shouldn’t like this, but why lie? Sometimes, he could be so attentive, even tender, that she simply melted.
In silence, he lifted one bite after the other onto her tongue until she’d swallowed the last of it. Gia couldn’t contain the happy little sigh that escaped her throat. “Thank you. That was incredible.”
Jason brushed a piece of hair away from her face. “You’re welcome. How are your hands and wrists?”
Though she was still cuffed, everything was surprisingly comfortable. “I’m all right, except I don’t know why you left the room with me restrained. I wasn’t going anywhere.”
“You weren’t,” he confirmed. “But that orgasm you pleaded for earlier is mine. I’ve waited nearly a year for it. I wasn’t going to let you take it from me by your own hand.”
“I wouldn’t have.”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t taking chances. Are you still hungry?”
“Tonight’s dinner was more than I usually eat in three days. I’m stuffed.”
His lips tightened. “You’ve lost weight.”
“I can’t eat when I’m stressed.”
Jason didn’t comment directly, he just reached over to uncuff her wrist on the far side of the bed. His chest hovered near hers, their faces inches apart. Gia couldn’t deny how much she craved his kiss again.
Instead, he stared, silent and inscrutable, as if trying to see down to her soul. His sharp blue eyes enthralled her. Stubble covered his strong jaw. His broad shoulders eclipsed so much of the room beyond. God knew he was good in bed. Maybe she could resist if she didn’t love him.
Finally, he popped a latch, and her left cuff sprang free. Jason eased back and released the other, then began massaging her shoulders. “Do they ache?”
Gia wasn’t dumb enough to lie. Besides, she deeply suspected that her wrists would be in those same cuffs again in the very near future.
“A bit.”
“Come with me.” He peeled off her shoes and helped her to her feet.
Swallowing down her questions, she trailed him to the massive bathroom as he began running the tub. As the water turned warm, he eased the stopper down and added a bit of some exotic bath oil with a hint of coconut and musk before turning to her.
At the gravity of his stare, she swallowed. With fingertips skimming her shoulders, he slid the baby-doll nightie down her arms and off her body. When she stood bare before him, raw lust seared his face. That expression said he wanted to lower her to the floor and fuck her right that second. Gia wanted to let him.
He held out his hand, looking her up and down. “Get in.”
It didn’t once occur to Gia not to comply. She closed her eyes in delight as the warm water enveloped her feet and lapped at her ankles.
Since she’d moved in with Mila and the kids, the little house’s only bathtub was on the other side of the place, and Gia hated to intrude in the children’s space. She’d missed the luxury of being immersed in warm, fragrant water.
“Sit back.” Jason helped ease her down into the water.
Though she usually liked to wait until the tub filled to avoid the cold surface against her skin, she didn’t argue. But when she lay back, Gia was shocked to realize the entire surface of the tub was comfortably warm.
“The back is heated?”
He smiled faintly. “Yes. It’s also an air tub with colored LED lighting. The towels are heating now. So is the floor.”
Wow. She never even stopped to consider such luxuries. Money had always been tight in her family. Now it was a downright issue. She’d better enjoy all this pampering while she could, but it was far more special because Jason shared the luxury with her. In her stupid heart, he did it because, despite his anger, he still wanted to take care of her.
“Thank you.” She settled back again and closed her eyes.
“You’re welcome,” he murmured.
He ran his fingers through her hair. Another touch she’d always loved. And he remembered. Gia moaned as he gently rubbed at her scalp, brushed his hands over her temples, applied the perfect pressure to the back of her stiff neck. He touched her as if they didn’t have a care between them. It would be so sinfully easy to slip again into the fantasy of being Jason’s fairy-tale soul mate.
Once upon a time, she’d fallen hard for him. It had nothing to do with his money and everything to do with the very personal way he cared for her. Insistent, yes. Hands on, definitely. But she’d never felt more adored in her life than she did with Jason.
“Relax,” he whispered.
Her eyes slid shut. “You’re making it impossible to do anything else.”
“Excellent.” He gathered her hair in his hands and clipped it atop her head.
Then she smelled something new, a blend of lavender, rosemary, chamomile, and a few other scents she couldn’t identify. Suddenly, his big hands covered her shoulders and began kneading, working the oil down her arms, then back up to her neck. She gave a low groan and melted against him.
“Jason,” she whispered.
He bent and brushed his lips against her ear. “You like that.”
“Hmm…” she breathed. “Yes.”
When Gia had first arrived, she’d been sure that he would immediately force her into bed. Not physically. After all, she’d agreed to give him her body at any time in any way he wanted until their anniversary. But instead of ordering her surrender, he seemed intent on coaxing it from her. And he was doing a damn fine job.
“Still sore?” He massaged the tense muscles and tendons of her shoulders and arms, dissolving her accumulated stress with every gentle dig of his fingers.
“No.”
“Good.”
Jason dipped his hands in her bath water, rinsing them. Then he caressed his way up her hips, her waist. Gia’s breath caught and held as his fingertips traced a path over her damp skin until he cradled her breasts in his hands.
“These are perfect,” he murmured, thumbing his way toward her nipples.
They beaded in anticipation of his touch, tightening, lengthening. He captured them in his grip. She eased her head back against the rim of the tub and drew in a shaking breath before exhaling in an aroused rush. Why did he always turn her inside out?
He slid his cheek against hers, the stubble prickly soft. The slight abrasion of his skin added another layer of texture to his possession. His woodsy-musky scent surrounded her and reminded her of the hundreds of times he’d driven her to ecstasy with seeming ease. Now she was on his turf, playing by his terms…and heading for his bed again. For a blissful moment, she didn’t regret it.
The last eleven and a half months had been so devastating, so stressful and terrible. Temporarily dropping all the crushing responsibilities for finding Tony’s killer while juggling her small niece and nephew was such a wonderful, guilty relief. Giving Jason anything but her body wasn’t smart, but Gia didn’t think she could hide the fact that she still cared.