Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72959 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Her brows arch. “Am I? When did I agree to that?”
“When you signed the contract that says I’m responsible for your well-being.” I let my tone drop lower in warning.
She straightens her shoulders. “There’s a difference between my well-being and buying me expensive things that I don’t need.”
“This isn’t about what you need,” I counter. “It’s about what I want. And I want to see you wearing the dress I bought for you.”
Her posture goes rigid. “How can you make a gift sound so unbearably selfish? No, thank you.”
“When did I ever give you the impression that I’m not selfish?” I drawl. “I’ve shown you exactly who I am. You chose me. You gave yourself to me. Would you prefer I pretended to be a soft, kind gentleman? No,” I continue before she can open her mouth to respond. “You like me the way I am, and that means you’ll do as I say.”
Her eyes flash. “I don’t think so.”
Fuck.
I’ve let myself get too comfortable around her. My mask has been off for too long, and now, she’s seeing a side of me that makes her angry when I’d intended to make her melt.
“Surrendering control when it comes to sex is one thing,” she seethes. “I won’t allow you to use your money to control me, Dane. I thought I made that clear on our very first date. Maybe you’re the one who hasn’t been paying attention to who I am.”
My anger rises to match hers, but it’s directed at her past abuser, not her. Whoever hurt her is responsible for this argument, not me.
I try for a placating tone that doesn’t come naturally at all. Instead, my voice comes out gravelly. “Are you going to tell me who did this to you?” I challenge. “Why are you so scared of accepting my money?”
Her eyes cut away from mine, but her back remains ramrod straight. “Don’t change the subject. You’re being controlling, Dane. I don’t like it.”
I pause and consider my next words carefully. I am controlling, but I can’t let the darkest parts of me scare her away. She’s mine, but I want her. Not a mindless, spineless little plaything.
“I’m sorry.” The words feel strange on my tongue, the shape unfamiliar. “I’m not explaining myself well because I’m angry at whoever hurt you.” That much is true. “I don’t want you to reject gifts from me because of some bastard’s cruelty. I want to take care of you, and that includes providing for you. It’s not about stripping you of your pride or forcing you to do something you don’t want to do. Yes, I’m selfish, and I want you to wear the pretty things I buy for you. But never because you feel coerced or guilted into it.”
I’m not above manipulation to get what I want, but I can hear the truth in my own words. I want Abigail to accept me and that includes accepting my gifts. I want her to trust that they won’t come with strings attached. I want her to trust in me. In us.
Her eyes search mine, and after a terrible, tense moment, she relaxes on a sigh.
“It wasn’t a man who hurt me,” she admits. “It’s my family. They wield money like a weapon. It took me years to understand it, and it’s been incredibly hard to walk away from their financial control. When I dropped out of college, they threatened to cut me off if I didn’t go back to my classes. So, I cut myself off before they could follow through. I got my barista job and started selling my paintings at the market. I’ve learned to survive on my own, and I’ve built a good life for myself. I’m not a famous artist with my own gallery, but I’m happy with my life the way it is.”
I touch two fingers beneath her chin, and she doesn’t flinch away. “Are you happy?” I challenge quietly. “Would it be so terrible to accept gifts from me? I will never ask for anything in return. I swear. Trust me.”
Her teeth sink into her lower lip, and she hesitates.
“I left my family’s wealth and expectations behind too,” I remind her. “I’ve worked hard so that I can live comfortably without their support. Let me support you now. I can’t think of a better way to spend what I’ve earned.”
“I can’t rely on you for everything,” she counters, but I can sense that she’s softening.
Our shared disdain for our families is a bond we share, and even though I’m exposing my own vulnerability, I will leverage this to my advantage.
“I know you can take care of yourself,” I say. “It’s one of the reasons I admire you so much. You’re tenacious and determined.”
She offers me a shaky laugh. “That’s a nice way of saying I’m stubborn.”