Page 16 of Relentless Sinner
I start eating and my God does it taste good. Last night I had tuna sandwiches with what I knew was homemade bread. The toast must be from the same loaf of bread because it has a wholesome taste. The bacon is crispy with an apple-smoked flavor and the eggs are divine with a rich, fluffy texture that melts in my mouth.
The maids at my father’s home always do a brilliant job with the food but this is Michelin-star quality.
I scuff down the food, almost forgetting Jaxon is next to me. And that he’s watching me.
When I remember I slow down. I was about to get more eggs but stopped myself. He, however, grabs the platter and scoops another helping onto my plate.
“Eat,” he says again in a more demanding tone. “They couldn’t have given you anything decent in that hellhole.”
“No. They didn’t.” My tone is quiet and filled with more emotion than I want to show in front of him. He’s being nice but I don’t know what his angle is.
“Did they hurt you?”
I look across at him and take in the hardness of his expression but the softness in his eyes. “I’m okay.”
It’s better to tell him I’m fine than to go into details of what those men did to me. I’m just thankful my situation wasn’t as bad as it could have been. If Jaxon hadn’t come to my aid when he did that scarred-up man would have destroyed me.
“Anyone who hurt you is long dead.” Jaxon’s voice takes on an Arctic edge that drifts into my core, giving me another taste of his danger. “I left none alive in that compound.”
I stare back at him, wanting to feel shock or some sort of sorrow for their deaths. But I feel nothing. Those men were all of the worst kind and they hurt me.
“Thank you,” I mutter, knowing it’s a strange thing to thank him for. It doesn’t matter because Iamthankful.
“You’re welcome. Eat up, then we’ll talk.”
“Okay.”
I polish off the eggs and feel stronger for eating them. I have some more of the other dishes then grab some water to wash it down.
Jaxon watches me throughout and leans forward when I set my glass down, like he’s signaling it’s time to talk.
“Just out of interest, how far do you think you would have gotten if you’d managed to escape last night?” The humor returns to his face.
“Do you really want an answer or do you just want to make fun of me?”
“Maybe a bit of both.”
“I’m glad you find the demise of my life so funny.”
He tilts his head. “What makes you think marrying me will be thedemiseof your life?”
“The part about getting married to a man people call the Beast.”
“Areyouscared of me?” He smirks, looking like he’s loving this conversation.
“You locked me in your room and chained me to your bed. What do you think?”
He sits back and leans slightly into the chair. The movement emphasizes the outline of hard muscle under his white button-down shirt.
“I never do anything fornoreason at all,Krasota.”
There’s that word again—krasota.
This is the second time he’s called me that and I don’t know how to react. It would be easier if the endearment were coming from someone else. Not a man who’s forcing me to marry him.
“You tried to escape from metwice,” he reminds me. “I think I was within my rights to take precautions. The fifty armed men I have stationed around my property would have been within their rights, too, had they restrained you.”
Fifty armed men? God, I would never have made it through the door, let alone as far as the woods to hide. “Do you plan to keep me locked up in here with your fifty armed men?”