Chapter 41
Fleur’s breath snagged in her throat at his words, but she forced her spine straight, her chin lifting in defiance. “Belong to you?” She let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “Last I checked, people aren’t property, Mr. Wayne p>
Christian’s eyes gleamed — not with anger, but with amusement, a lazy spark that only made her blood heat further.
“It’s Christian, sweetheart.” His voice rolled over her name like silk over steel. “And you know exactly what I mean.” He tilted his head, that wolfish smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “We’ve already crossed the line of professionalism, haven’t we p>
Fleur’s throat tightened. The memory of the car flooded back — the fogged windows, the slick heat of his skin, the way he’d growled her name as he came undone inside her.
Devil.
This man was a devil wrapped in a god’s body.
“That doesn’t give you the right to make assumptions about me.” She forced her voice steady, even as her heart hammered against her ribs. “I can wear whatever I want without it being about you p>
Christian’s smirk widened. “Only in front of me p>
“You think very highly of yourself, Mr. Wayne.” She pressed her palms against his bare chest, the heat of his skin searing her hands as she tried to push him away.
He lifted a single dark brow, unmoved. His arms didn’t budge.
His naked body was a distraction she couldn’t afford. Every inch of him was carved — hard planes, ridged muscle, the kind of physique that belonged in marble and myth. He could make Greek gods weep with envy, and Fleur found it deeply unfair that such an exquisite shell housed a man capable of such cruelty.
Her mood shifted, the memory of what he’d done to her — to Odette — rising like bile in her throat.
She twisted, writhing against his grip, desperate to create distance. Christian’s eyes narrowed, and his arms tightened, drawing her flush against him. A reminder that she was no match for his strength.
“Let go of me.” The words came through gritted teeth.
“Tease me one more time, baby,” he warned, his voice dropping to a husky growl, “and be ready to face the consequences p>
His eyes had shifted — the icy blue darkening to something almost gray, lit from within by a hunger that had nothing to do with anger. Fleur gasped as his hand cupped her backside, grinding her against the thick ridge of his arousal, barely concealed beneath the thin cotton of his boxers.
She couldn’t understand it. Why her? He could have any woman he wanted. Was this another game? Chase and catch, until he grew bored and moved on?
What unsettled her more was how different he seemed this time. Softer. More attentive. The Christian she remembered had taken his pleasure with ruthless efficiency, concerned with nothing beyond his own release. This man asked her preferences. This man looked at her like she was something precious.
Was this why he’d kept so many mistresses? Because no woman could resist him when he turned on the charm?
But the one woman he’d hated — the one he’d married and destroyed — was her. The thought lodged in her chest like a splinter. How could he be so possessive of a stranger while despising his own wife? And what would he do if he knew that Fleur and Odette were the same person?
The thought chilled her blood.
She remembered those torturous days. The cold silence. The way he’d looked through her like she was furniture. His ego would never forgive her for escaping alive. He’d drag her back to the same hell and make her pay twice as brutally.
No law could stop him. Christian Wayne was the law. He had enough wealth to buy this country twice over, enough power to make people disappear without a trace. The ruthlessness that made his rivals tremble would turn on her with full force.
Before she could push him again, Christian swept her off her feet — one arm under her knees, the other bracing her back as he carried her to the bed. He laid her on the mattress and covered her with the hard, heavy length of him.
“Let me show you how possessive I can be,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear.
She shoved him.
Both hands, full strength, catching him off guard. He rocked back, eyes widening as she scrambled beneath him.
“No — leave me alone p>
Her voice cracked. Her eyes were wide, her face drained of color, and Christian went still.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He was genuinely taken aback, his brow furrowing.
“I… I can’t do this.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. Couldn’t let him see the fear and hurt swimming in her own.
Christian stayed frozen above her, studying her face. Had their time in the car been that bad? Had six years without sex dulled his skills so thoroughly that she didn’t want him again? The thought was a blow to his pride, sharp and unexpected.
“If you want,” he said slowly, his voice serious, “we can try something else. If my dick can’t satisfy you the way you need, we can change positions. Find something that works for you p>
Fleur’s eyes snapped up to his, wide with disbelief.
Was he serious? Christian Wayne, the ruthless Alpha of Blood Moon, the man who’d never asked a woman what she wanted in his life — was offering her choices? He used to take. Plunder. He’d never once asked if she enjoyed it.
She almost laughed. She had no basis for comparison. He was the only man she’d ever been with.
“I can’t do it because I’m scared for your health.” The lie came easily, wrapped in truth. “Your shoulder will start bleeding again p>
Relief washed over Christian’s face — an emotion so raw and unguarded it made her chest ache. He stroked her cheek, his thumb sweeping across her cheekbone, before brushing the damp tendrils of hair from her forehead. His touch was impossibly gentle.
“Don’t worry about that, baby.” His voice dropped, husky and rough with need. “I promise I’m in perfect health. The wound doesn’t hurt.” He leaned in, his lips ghosting over hers. “You’re my medicine, Fleur. The only cure I need is you — letting me make love to you p>
She blinked up at him, utterly speechless once again.