Ruthless Knight: Chapter 12

The dogs bark at me, and the sound snaps Knight’s cold, hard stare.

He switches his gaze from me to them and proceeds to give a command in French that has them backing down and retracting their fangs.

When he advances closer, they look at him, giving their undivided attention to their master, but he’s focusing on me again, those eyes of his burning holes into mine.

Dressed in black slacks and a long-sleeved T-shirt the same color, he blends in with the night, looking like he’s part of the shadows. His beard is fuller than the other day, drawing attention to his sharp jawline, and the cold breeze rippling against his shirt makes him appear bigger.

“A bit late for a walk, don’t you think?” Knight looks me up and down, then glances at the door behind me. The one I clearly just came out of.

He knows. Knows where I just came from. Knows I was snooping.

“I was having trouble sleeping.” I try to sound like I’m not shaken to my core by his foreboding presence, but the bottom of my belly is contracting like a fist is clamped around it. “What about you? Is this the time you walk your dogs?”

“They prefer this time of day, or rather morning.” His gaze drifts back to the door. When he looks at me again, he hits me with an I-know-you-were-looking-at-my-stuff stare. “Find anything that interested you?”

As there’s little point denying my guilt, I decide to play it safe.

“Maybe.” The word feels like an understatement for the masterpieces I just witnessed, but there’s no way I’m adding to his egomaniac personality. I wouldn’t want it to metastasize into something neither of us can control.

“Maybe?” His tone is lighter.

“Yes.” I give him a little shrug to compliment my indifference.

For an instant, something that looks like amusement flickers in his eyes, but it’s gone just as quickly.

The biggest dog approaches me and uses its snout to stroke my leg.

“Are you afraid of dogs?”

“Only if they look like they’re going to kill me.” I keep my eyes on the dog. It seems more puppy-like now, but as it seemed hell bent on ripping me apart mere moments ago, I’m still wary.

“You’re no good to me dead.” Knight’s cool, detached tone has me snapping my gaze back to him, and I level him a poison-tipped glare.

“Well, that’s comforting.” What an absolute asshole.

With a sexy half-smile, he says something in French to the dogs, but he’s still looking at me. It makes me wonder if he’s talking about me. God knows what he could be saying.

When he’s finished talking, the other two dogs bounce over to me. One sits back and holds its paw out as if to shake my hand. The other runs around my legs in circles, wagging its fluffy tail.

Wow, this tamed version of them is actually cute.

“You can pet them if you want to,” Knight says. “They won’t bite. Or kill you.”

I only trust his words because, like he said, I’m no good to him dead.

I lower my hand to the dog with its paw out. When I tap it, it bends its head for me to stroke. I do, and the other two join in, so I can touch them.

Their fur is so soft, that I keep going, running my fingers through the silky fibers, enjoying the interaction.

“What are their names?” I glance back at Knight, who is watching me keenly with a tickle of fascination on his face.

“Poseidon, Aries, and Artemis.”

All Greek names. No surprise there. “How fitting. Although, I half expected at least one of them to be called Cerberus.”

Knight clenches his jaw, clearly unimpressed. “So, you think I’m Hades?”

I straighten. “Aren’t you? When last I checked, you stole me away from my fiancé and forced me to sign a contract to marry you.”

“Nathan Gilmar wasn’t your fiancé.” His voice is firm, but there’s a hint of something I can’t quite describe. It sounds like it could be possession.

“That changes nothing. You still acted like a hell god.”

His lips twitch. “Perhaps. Except, Hades was in love with Persephone. Just because I know what you taste like, doesn’t mean I’m your Hades.”

The molten heat in his eyes and words sparks the memory of the night he tasted me. A sudden flush of desire shoots to my core. It feels like lava inside my skin.

I school my mind and stare back at him with all the disgust in the world. But truthfully, I’m madder at myself. I’d love nothing more than to forget that night, but my body won’t let me, and the wicked smile on his face suggests he’s not going to allow me to either.

“I guess not.” It’s time to go. I’ve overstayed my tolerance, and I shouldn’t even be standing out here talking to him anyway, petting his dogs as if we’re friends. We’re enemies. End of story. There are no exceptions. “I should get going.”

“Why don’t you come with me instead?” The suggestion, although sounding like a challenge, surprises me.

“I don’t think so.” My voice is stiffer than a dry board. The last time I went anywhere with him, he robbed me of my dignity and turned me into a fool. “I’m not doing that again.”

“But I have something to give you. And I’m sure you have questions about our little arrangement.”

I do have questions. A ton about our situation. And after what I just saw in his workshop, of course, I have lots of questions about his art and the multitude of pictures of that girl—Giselle. But those are private questions I’d never ask. As for the other kind, I’d love answers for them sooner rather than later.

Maybe I could tolerate him for just a little longer. I’d also like to find out what he has to give me.

“Okay, where are we going?”

“My office.”

Knight gives the dogs a command in French, and the three of them rush away in the opposite direction, then he starts walking toward the path leading back to the house, and I follow.

We pass through the living room with the sliding doors and continue past the library. His office is on the right.

When we walk inside, I see the exquisite décor, which doesn’t look that much different from the study.

A large mahogany desk sits in the center, and ornate bookshelves cover the entire wall to our left in classical literature and books about art. Renaissance art in particular. And sculpting.

Near the wall to our right is a sofa area with a glass drinks cabinet behind. In front is a coffee table with a wooden chess board sitting in the center with all the chess pieces waiting to be played.

Every room in this house looks like it belongs in a hotel suite. It’s hard to believe this is all just for him.

I stop near the sofa, but Knight continues to the drinks cabinet and takes out a few bottles of liquor. One looks like wine, but I could be wrong. The others have French writing on the labels, so I’m not entirely sure what they are, or what Knight Grayson is up to.

Drinking isn’t something I should entertain, let alone drinking with him. I’ve already had way too much alcohol over the last few hours with Madison.

“What are you doing?” I ask, giving him a questioning stare.

“Making a tame cocktail.” He sets the bottles down on the counter and glances back at me.

“Tame cocktail? How can a cocktail be tame?”

“Just try it.” He gives me a clipped nod and grabs two glasses.

Knight adds a little of each of the drinks to our glasses until they’re both half full, and the mixture turns a muddy gray color with streams of brown in it.

I wrinkle my nose at the sight.

“That looks like rat poison.” I have a distinct memory of Mom making rat poison for the infestation we had in Florida.

Knight gives me an incredulous glare. “Rat poison? Of all the things you can think of, that comes to mind?”

“Yes.”

“Well, it’s not rat poison, or any other.”

When he holds my glass out for me to take, I stare at it with the hesitation of a deer crossing the freeway.

“Take it,” he insists.

Against my better judgment, I do and give it a sniff to check it’s okay for human consumption. Surprisingly, it has the sweet smell of cotton candy.

I brave tasting it and am pleasantly surprised by the delicious orange and strawberry flavor. It reminds me of days spent at the carnival when I was little.

“Wow, it actually tastes good. What is it?”

Knight flashes me a wolfish grin, cunning and calculative. “Some secrets shouldn’t be shared.”

“Fair enough.” I smirk. “At least it tastes good. And as far as I know, it’s not poisonous.”

“Nope.” He finishes his drink in one gulp, sets the empty glass on the counter, then makes his way to the desk to lean against it. There he watches me while I finish off my drink. “What are your questions for me?”

I allow my gaze to roam his face and try to look past his hard exterior.

Everything about him seems thought out and guarded. I imagine being that way must help him stay one step ahead at all times. But what’s his story? Something about him doesn’t match up with who he presents to the world. Like those sculptures and sketches in the workshop.

As curious as I am about them, they don’t matter. What matters is his next steps for me and the one asset of value to my name.

“What do you want with Sunset Cove?” I keep my gaze fixed on him, letting him see this question is most important to me. “I’m sure it’s not just one of your collection of assets.”

“No, it’s not.”

“So, what do you want with it?”

“I’m still trying to figure out that part. However, I’m sure you can imagine how lucrative owning such an establishment is, given its location, popularity, and especially its rich history.”

“I can.” The history part was why Mom loved it and what sparked her ideas for the 1940s theme.

The forties were when Sunset Cove all began and every celeb in Hollywood stayed there. Old pictures hang in the hallways of Frank Sinatra and other members of the Rat Pack, Bing Crosby, Cole Porter, and then later in the fifties, stars like Marilyn Monroe and Vivien Leigh.

“With the right help, a resort like that can turn an easy seven-figure sum with little effort.” He rests his palms on the edge of the desk. “With the lease set to expire in a matter of days, I wanted in. As far as I’m aware, you weren’t looking to renew the lease with the current subcontractors or anyone else.”

“We weren’t going to renew anything. I wasn’t.”

I steel my spine and stare at him head on. His explanation makes sense, but why do I feel he’s leaving something out?

Because he is.

If it’s one thing I’ve learned about this man, it’s that he’s crafty as fuck and he’ll only let you in on his plans when you’ve been dragged in headfirst and you’re already fighting for your life.

“Sunset Cove was never supposed to go back on the market.” My gaze travels over the smooth tan skin of his neck.

“Well, I found a way.”

His simple tone infuriates me, reminding me he’s nothing but a well-dressed shark. He stole me and my legacy, and it means nothing more to him than a lucrative investment. One my father could have used and didn’t. Dad didn’t even seem to contemplate it.

“You certainly did.” As it stands now, once this is over, I walk away with nothing but my ten percent ownership and the knowledge that I saved my father. Other than saving Dad, I’ll have so much less than what I started out with. Before this disaster, at least I knew if things went south with my career, I’d have Sunset Cove. “What next?”

“Tomorrow, we’ll sign a prenup.”

Of course, we will. “What about the wedding?”

“I’ve scheduled it for the second Saturday in June.”

“Oh.” My tone is flat and colder than a fish.

“From tomorrow onward you’ll liaise with one of my assistants, who will organize everything. Your dress, the invitations, and all other documents we need to sign. My grandparents’ anniversary dinner is on Friday at the Astoria. There, we’ll officially announce our engagement. The press will be there asking questions, so I need you to play the part. Our story is that we’ve been dating on and off for months and now we’re engaged.”

“What about all the people who were at my engagement party? They’ll know that’s not true.”

“You don’t have to worry about them.” The malicious smile he gives me makes him look more evil. “I took care of that situation. Did you also notice you and your father were kept out of the press when the scandal broke about Conrad?”

“Yes.” My voice is quiet, my lungs squeezing with the recognition of his power.

All the time I spent following the coverage of the scandal, I never once thought about Dad and me. I was so shocked by what Conrad did, and worried about Dad that nothing else crossed my mind.

“All you have to do on Friday is whatever I tell you. And behave.”

I sneer at him. “Behave?” Who the hell does he think he’s talking to?

“Yes, behave. Given your propensity, you need fair warning.”

“What the hell do you mean by my propensity?” And who talks like that anyway?

“I seem to remember you sneaking out of my private quarters not fifteen minutes ago. I also remember you bitch-slapping me in public, so yes, you have a propensity to misbehave.”

I bite down hard on my back teeth, fighting the urge to argue and tell him to go fuck himself.

He’s right about the sneaking-around part, but I still maintain that he more than deserved the slap. I’ll hold my tongue, though, and decide to choose my battles wisely. I don’t just have myself to worry about, and this is just day one.

Only day one. And I already want to rip my hair out. And his, too.

“What else is there? You said you had something to give me.” I do my best to keep the indignation out of my voice, but I still sound as if I want to claw the skin off his face.

Sin prowls in Knight’s eyes like a predatory cat waiting to strike. “Come here.”

I hate the way the deep timbre of his voice soaks into me, but I ignore it and walk up to him, stopping an arm’s length away.

Knight straightens, reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out a small black velvet pouch. He loosens the silky drawstrings, and everything inside me stills when he pulls out a blue sapphire engagement ring with a cluster of diamonds delicately placed around it.

The sight of the sapphire alone steals my senses. I’m sure there’s not a woman alive who wouldn’t be just as dazed and breathless. I can’t begin to imagine how much it must have cost.

And it’s mine.

I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. Then again, I had no expectations of him.

That sensation of being out of my depth hits me again, and my lungs squeeze.

I drag my gaze from the ring to meet his eyes and steady my nerves in slow, measured breaths.

“Give me your hand.” Knight keeps his cold, observing eyes on me, watching my every move.

I hold out my hand, shoving my emotions to the back of my mind because this…

This is my life. Receiving a breathtakingly gorgeous engagement ring from a ruthless billionaire who stole me away for his own selfish purposes.

This is the closest I’ll ever get to the real thing.

When Knight slides the ring on my finger, there’s nothing remotely romantic about the gesture. I could have put it on myself. His ring on my finger makes me feel no different from one of his dogs with a collar around its neck.

I’m about to pull my hand away, but he secures a tighter grip.

“There are a few other things I need to go over.” A sense of danger that I don’t like emanates from him.

“Like what?” I lift my chin higher.

“You are to wear this ring at all times. From now on, you are to act the part of my fiancée, and when we’re married, you are my wife.” Those words—fiancée and wife—sound strange coming from his lips. Reading them on the contract was bad enough, but hearing them spoken really hits. “That means we look like a couple in public. And there will be no fucking around.”

“I don’t fuck around.”

He gives me another malicious smile that’s equally as sinful as the first. “Given the fact I had my hands in your pussy when you were days away from your engagement party, I’m not so sure I believe that.”

My skin blazes hot, as if I’ve been shoved inside a furnace, and there’s not a goddamn thing I can say to refute his accusation without sounding like a slut.

Because he’s right.

“That was a mistake.” My lame answer is the best I can do to save my image. It does nothing, but I had to try.

Knight releases my hand but inches closer into my personal space. When I step back, he follows. I take another few steps backward, and he pursues me until my back leans flush against the wall.

He plants one hand above my head and the other by my waist, trapping me the same way he has with our upcoming marriage.

“Let’s hope you won’t be making any more mistakes like that, especially now that your ex-beloved has been cleared and set free.”

“Nathan was cleared?” I’m surprised to hear that. I felt for sure the FBI would find something on him.

“He was.” When Knight searches my eyes again, I realize what he’s looking for. It’s emotion. He seems to be checking to see how I feel about Nathan, and I understand why. It’s because I’ve said next to nothing about him, and I haven’t acted like the distraught girlfriend who’s lost the chance to wed the man of her dreams. “Nathan’s release isn’t going to be a problem for us, is it?”

“No.” Surely, he must know the whole thing between Nathan and me is the same kind of arrangement we are. But the wild possession in his eyes suggests he might not.

“It better not be, mon cherie.” I’m not ready for how impossibly close he gets, or for how fast my heart starts beating. “I don’t share. Ever. What’s mine is mine, even if it belongs to me for seven and a half months.”

My God…he’s talking about me.

The thought barely registers before Knight lifts a lock of my hair and touches it to his nose, inhaling the scent the way an addict would with their favorite drug. “I don’t want him near you. Do you understand me?”

He traces a finger up to the hollow of my neck and lingers there, brushing over the start of my cleavage. My breath comes short, and a maddening cacophony of arousal and confusion has my body doing everything I don’t want it to.

“Answer me, mon cherie.” His tone has the urgency of a drill sergeant.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you understand me?”

“Yes. I understand you.” My voice is firmer but regrettably breathy with desire.

“Perfect, because if you cross me, let’s just say you won’t like it.”

My nerves scatter, and a callous chill crawls down my spine. “You’d hurt me?”

He releases my hair. “That depends on your definition of hurt. Sometimes, pain is pleasure and pleasure is pain.” His lips curl into a mirthless smile that does all sorts of sinful things to my body. “You like to slap. I like to spank, so cross me, and I’ll spank your tight little pussy so hard, you won’t be able to walk for days.”

I’m so stunned, I’m not sure how my eyes haven’t popped out of my head yet.

No man has ever spoken to me like that. And my God, that accent. It’s stronger, and I don’t know which hits me more—that or his crass, lustful words.

I’m shocked, but shit, I’m wet, and my nipples are so tight and sharp they could cut through glass. How the hell can I be turned on by this man after everything that’s happened and all he’s done? Something must be very wrong with me if I can even admit to getting all worked up over him.

“I think it’s time I head back to my room.” Despite my inner turmoil, I keep my tone level. This guy is an asshole. I don’t want to give him the benefit of seeing how much he affects me, or confirm he freaks me out.

“What? Scared you might like that kind of thing?” A flicker of something wicked brightens his eyes. “You’ve already felt what I can do with my hands. I know you liked it. Maybe you want more.”

His words take my mind straight back to the restaurant, and for the millionth time, I recall our wild encounter. How he touched me, how he tasted me, how his dirty words affected me.

Those words—how he’d already fucked me five different ways and in five different places in his mind—dance inside me. The memory has me wanting to clench my thighs.

I’m appalled at myself and my body for betraying me in such a traitorous way, but the impact of him intensifies when he leans into me so closely that I can feel the bulge of his cock pressing into my belly. It’s huge and hard, dominating and demanding, firm and fierce.

Against my will, my thoughts run wild, and just for one forbidden moment, I wonder what his cock would feel like inside me. The desire deepening in his eyes pushes me further down paths I shouldn’t venture. But before I can go deeper, I catch myself with the reminder that Knight Grayson is still the beautiful devil.

Take away that beauty, and all that’s left is the part I should stay far, far away from.

“No, Mr. Grayson. I don’t want anything like that from you.” The harshness in my voice pierces the vicious entity rippling between us, but it does very little to curb the growing ache between my thighs. “And just for the record, you will never have me like that again.”

He gives me a full smile. “Are you sure? Because you’re still looking at me like you want to fuck me.”

The air in my lungs freezes, making them burn as if hot coals have been shoved down my throat.

“I’m sure you must be seeing things.” My damn voice is breathy again, much to his amusement.

“I don’t think so.” Knight borrows my words from earlier, using the same I’m-not-wrong tone. “But, just for tonight, how about we agree to disagree.”

His sketchy words, a cross between a threat and a promise, seep into my mind.

At that moment, I suddenly realize with the deepest shock that the attraction between us at the restaurant was … real.

I feel it again now. It’s as real as his cock growing harder against my belly.

Knight can feel me, too. Feel the weight of my breasts growing heavier alongside the solid walls of his chest and feel my breath becoming short and ragged.

But real or not, I must never be that foolish again.

“Can I go now?” I’m happy I can talk and get the words out of my head.

“Of course.” He gives me a look that says he has me where he wants me, then inches away.

Even though I’m released from his entrapment, my mind continues spinning.

Without another word, I shuffle out of his path and walk away from him as fast as I can.

I feel his eyes searing into me like hot pokers with every step I take, but I will myself not to look back.

When I reach the stairs, a warning rings through my mind to be careful with this guy. No matter how alluring he is, I need to stay focused at all times. Given my track record with men, it would be wise.

Beautiful things are always wrapped in pretty packages. Sometimes, that’s done by design to hide the ugliness of what’s inside. My situation is already bad. There’s no point making everything worse than it already is.

All I need to do is control that raw, ravenous desire Knight unlocks in me.

I might not be his Persephone, but he is most definitely my Hades.

That’s why I mustn’t allow him to take any more from me than he already has.