A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)

Nonetheless, Kat was hit abruptly with a worrying thought. Would Carter start to take liberties with their sessions now that they’d been intimate? Would he really think she wouldn’t kick his ass all over Manhattan for being late just because he’d given her numerous orgasms?

 

Kat’s leg twitched as her anger increased. He’d be in for one hell of a surprise if that was the case. Punchy and agitated, Kat rose from her seat and began to wander around the reading room, heading for her favorite section: poetry.

 

With the tip of her index finger placed against the spines of the books, Kat meandered down the aisle between two huge mahogany bookshelves. The smell of the leather, ink, and wood was rich and comforting, and reminded her of her father’s library at the house they’d owned in Westchester. Her father would read Rossetti and Blake to her when she was very young, and always when she was upset or hurt. She stopped when she came to the romantic poets, specifically Wordsworth, immediately needing his imagery of an English countryside and swaying daffodils to ease her mind.

 

Suitably calmed and incredibly nostalgic after reading three of his poems, Kat replaced Wordsworth and pulled down a small black book with gold-leaf font filled with sonnets, poems, and declarations of love. Holding the book in one hand, she leafed through the yellowing pages with the other when suddenly every single hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

 

Someone was behind her.

 

Before she could think about who it was or what they were doing, a large hand clasped her shoulder and swung her around, backing her into the shelves of the bookcase. The book she’d been holding fell from her hands to the floor with a loud slap.

 

Dizzy from being spun at speed, it took Kat a moment to find her bearings and focus on the face before her, and when she did, she wished immediately that she hadn’t.

 

The tip of Carter’s nose was inches away, while his breath washed over her face in strong heated waves. His broad chest pressed firmly against her.

 

But that wasn’t what made Kat’s throat close in panic. It was the expression on his face. His eyes were so dark the blue was almost indistinct, and the edges of his perfect mouth curled up into a hateful snarl. He was ferocious. She opened her mouth to speak, but Carter’s hand was at once covering it, holding her words tightly in a palm that smelled of smoke and mint.

 

“Don’t,” he rasped. He closed his eyes and shook his head. His nostrils flared and his hold on her tightened. “Just don’t speak.”

 

Kat’s eyes widened, but she nodded in compliance, causing the metal of his rings to rub against her skin. She watched him, fascinated by his jaw as it clenched and twitched along with the small beads of sweat scattered along his hairline and buzzed sideburns. She knew what that sweat tasted like.

 

He blew air out from between his pursed lips before he finally began to speak. “I just came from a very … interesting meeting.” He spoke every word quietly to his large boots.

 

With his right hand still covering Kat’s lips and his left hand squeezing her hip, Carter gradually lifted his head and let his stare rest on hers. His eyes filled with every conceivable emotion. The overwhelming urge to hug him and take away the pain lacing his words struck Kat in the gut.

 

“Do you know who my meeting was with?”

 

Kat frowned, shaking her head. Carter’s smile was grim. He moved forward, stopping only when his lips were by her cheek.

 

“My cousin,” he whispered. He stood back so he could see her face. “Austin Ford.”

 

A shiver ran through Kat’s body when the fury in his eyes ignited with his words. She knew her face had paled with nausea. What the hell had Austin said? Carter’s response was immediate. His jaw loosened at the same time that his hand dropped from her mouth. His left hand remained holding her, his fingers pushing deeper into her hip.

 

“It’s true?” Carter murmured through lips that barely moved. A small V appeared between his eyebrows as his gaze flitted questioningly over her face.

 

Kat took a breath. As caught off guard as she was by his behavior, she had to remain calm for both of their sakes. “Is what true?”

 

The slam of Carter’s fist connecting with the mahogany shelving at the side of Kat’s head echoed around the room like a nuclear bomb.

 

“Don’t play with me, Kat!” Carter thundered. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

 

“I’m not,” she replied evenly, blinking back his angry words.

 

“Just a yes or no,” Carter continued darkly. “That’s all I want.”

 

Kat’s heart sank. Dread crept up her spine. “I don’t know, Carter. What are you asking me?”

 

“Austin. The fucking …” He released a long hiss of breath, steadying himself by leaning his body against her. “He said that—that you … Did you?”

 

“Did I what?” she whispered.

 

Carter’s eyes flashed rapidly between light and dark. “Did you fuck him?”

 

Kat’s mouth dropping open made an audible pop. “Sweetheart.”

 

“NO!” he barked. “Don’t do that. Not now. Just yes or no.” He kicked at the bottom shelf before dropping his forehead and muttering into Kat’s shoulder. “Did you fuck him?”

 

Kat stood, almost paralyzed, with Carter breathing into the skin of her neck.

 

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