Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
“Oh.” He parks near the elevator bank. “I’m not much help there, I’m afraid. That’s something you two need to work out. But can I offer a little piece of advice?”
“Maybe.” I narrow my eyes.
“She married you for a reason. She’s not a stupid woman. I can tell that from the few times we’ve met and talked here and there. I don’t think there’s any way on God’s green earth that she doesn’t have some inkling—maybe in the back of her mind, I don’t know—that you aren’t some mild-mannered businessman.”
“And?” I reach for the door handle.
“And if she chose you anyway, then maybe she likes that dark, rough part of you. You get me?”
I hesitate, then shake my head. “No. She wouldn’t be with me if she knew the truth. There’s no way she suspects all that.” I hop out and jog to the elevator as Ben pulls away behind me.
But I can’t help but keep thinking about what he said. Does she have some idea I’m a bad man? I’ve tried to be gentle with her, so gentle. Yeah, I slipped up that one time a week ago in my office, but I’ve been so careful ever since then.
There’s no way she has any idea. I’ve gone to great lengths to keep it that way. I lean against the reflective wall of the elevator and stare at myself as I rise. The more I look, the more I try to square the man I see with the man who loves his wife more than life itself. It’s like I’m two people. But I have to be if I want to keep Quinn.
At least she doesn’t know anything’s going on. That’s the only thing I can hold on to right now. I step out of the elevator and into the penthouse.
When I hear a loud bang, I pull my pistol and drop my duffel bag. My hackles rise as the sound comes again, and panic tries to overtake me. I don’t let it. I have to get to Quinn. Something’s wrong. Badly wrong.
I ease down the hallway, checking each room for her. But I don’t see her. The bang comes again, and this time it’s followed by a frustrated yell. One I recognize.
Sliding my gun into its holster, I button my suit coat as I creep into our bedroom.
“Why won’t you open? This is bullshit!” Bang.
I peek into the master bedroom closet and find Quinn leaning against the dressing table, a small sledgehammer at her feet. My clothes have been pushed aside, and she’s smashed the control panel to my control room and armory.
“I know it’s a red room. I just know it. I saw those movies.” She reaches for the sledgehammer again.
“Quinn?” I step inside the closet.
She freezes, then turns to me. A sheen of sweat coats her forehead, and some bits of control screen plastic is stuck in her hair. “I, um … I …”
I lean against the doorframe as I survey her and the damage and wait for her explanation. This should be good.
9
Quinn
“I’m expanding the closet?” The lie pops right out of my mouth.
I immediately feel guilty. I start to try to come up with ideas for a redesign so I’m not lying to my husband. I’d never lie to him. Besides, you never know, once I find out what lies behind this wall that has a super secret James Bond type scanny thing on it, I could decide to expand the closet. So I’m not going to cop to lying just yet.
So many thoughts are running through my mind. I should just tell him what I’m doing so he can admit what he’s been hiding. He might actually take me into his red room of pain and use it with me. Scratch that. I want no part of anything painful. But he’s never hurt me. The small marks Logan left on my skin were far from painful. I loved and adored them as much as I love him.
“Sugar.”
“Don’t call me that.” I drop the sledgehammer, the guilt starting to eat me up. “I’m not sweet. I think I lied to you. I’d never meant to. I swear it.” I fold like a cheap chair. Tears start to pour down my cheeks. “Forgive me.”
“Quinn.” Logan rushes over to me, lifting me off my feet. He carries me out of the closet and back into the bedroom.
“We could expand the closet. Then I wouldn’t be a liar.” I hiccup.
“We can do anything you want, sugar, but please stop crying. I can’t take you being sad.”
“Okay.” I sniffle, trying to get them under control. “They won’t stop.” I burst into more tears. “I, um … I …”
“Shh.” Logan places kisses on my cheeks as he rocks me in his lap. “You’re not a liar. I caught you off guard.”