Dark Notes

I enter the closet and set her on her feet. Stepping back, I lounge against the door jamb and block her exit. When she realizes just how fucking crazy I am, there’s no telling how fast she’ll run.

She circles the island in the center, rubbing the back of her neck. “Your closet is bigger than my house.”

I slide my hands in the pockets of my flannel pants and wait.

Her gaze snags on the far wall, and her hesitant strides carry her toward it. She trails a hand over the long shelf of high-heels, flats, sandals, and tennis shoes. Tilting her head, she stares up at the racks of dresses, shirts, and trousers. The entire wall is hers.

Her shoulder blades tighten, her hands falling to her sides as she speaks with her back to me. “Do you have an alternative lifestyle I don’t know about? A fetish with women’s clothing?”

“Something like that.”

She snatches a beige Louboutin pump from the shelf and checks the size. “How did you—” She sighs, returning it carefully to its place. “The first day, when you slid my shoes back on.”

My blood pumps thick and hot in my veins. Separated by the island and the length of the room, I watch her peruse the clothes, anticipating her next words.

“I ca—” She whirls toward me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I know. No I can’ts. No sniveling. No questioning your methods.” She hooks an arm around her waist and presses a fist to her mouth, staring at me from beneath her lashes. “It’s a lot to take in, but I’m trying.” She stands straighter, glancing at the clothes behind her. “It’s just…this is all too much, too fast, and—”

“Come here.” I remove my hands from my pockets, my posture open, welcoming.

She crosses the room in a vision of dark skin, thin cotton, and allure.

When she reaches me, I lift her and carry her to the bed. “What’s mine is yours, Ivory. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be.”

Shifting under the blankets, she stares up at me. “If I don’t accept it?”

I slip in beside her, pull her to my chest, and entwine our legs together. “Then you get to endure more of my… What did you call it?” I lean in and kiss her bottom lip. “Abrasive and surly temper.”

“There’s medication for that.”

“You’re the only drug I need.” Reaching back, I switch off the light and rest my head on her pillow, our faces inches apart.

The illumination of gas lamps and moonlight filters in through the nearby window, blanketing us in pale silence. Her eyes glisten with wonder, worry, and unspoken words, reflecting all the emotions I openly express in mine.

I brush her hair behind her ear. “I don’t share. That means no more high school or neighborhood boys. You’re in my bed and no one else’s.”

She opens her mouth.

I tap it with a finger then trace the soft curve of her lips. “I’ll protect you from those who don’t respond to no.”

“What about you?” Her leg twitches in the bend of mine, her tone low and suspicious. “Are there other women?”

“You’re the only one.”

I’ve turned down every goddamn woman since I met her. First time in my adult life I’ve gone this long without sex.

Vertical lines form between her brows. “What about your love-hate thing with Joanne?”

“She’s complicated. But I haven’t seen her in six months.”

I haven’t told Ivory everything, but I need to make a decision about that mess before I expose her to it. And there’s a second secret I’ve kept from her, a more urgent one that I need to address now. “I have something to tell you about Prescott Rivard.”

Her gaze shatters into rippling pools of brown. “Will he get you fired? Or press charges?”

“I scared him enough to keep him silent for a while, but that fear will eventually sour and grow resentful. Then…I don’t know.”

“I’ll go to the cops and explain what happened.”

“No, you will not.” I hook an arm around her back, preparing for her to jerk away. “I promised his mother a spot for him at Leopold.”

A frozen moment passes before she tenses against my hold. “How? Why?”

“She gave me a career at Le Moyne in exchange for my connections. To get Prescott into Leopold.”

“Connections? Leopold admits their students on talent alone.”

“My mother holds a seat on the Board of Trustees. She’ll slide him through without a formal audition.”

She studies my expression, curling her hand against her chest between us. “This affects my chances, doesn’t it?”

“If I refer you, their recruiters will come. They’ll attend a school-wide performance and…”

Her breath hiccups in her throat. “They’ll see Prescott play and potentially reject his application.”

“And accept yours instead.” I comb a hand through her hair and rest my lips against her forehead. “You have more talent than anyone at Le Moyne, but if I ask my mother to sneak two applications through—”

“No way.” She yanks her head back. “When I’m accepted into Leopold, it will be on merit and talent alone.”

I cuddle her against me as pain pounds behind my breastbone. I can’t bear the thought of fucking her over. “I’ll make this right.”

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