Je Suis a Toi (Monsters in the Dark Book 4) (13 page)

BOOK: Je Suis a Toi (Monsters in the Dark Book 4)
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I SMELLED HIM before I heard him.

Even obliterated Q moved like a freaking ghost.

I’d fallen asleep in the library beside the fire. Courage and his family were curled up in the ambient warmth of the flames on the chesterfield rug, snoring lightly, while I reminded myself over and over that Q and I were fine.

For hours, I’d been ensconced with old books and the memories of the past—remembering when I’d returned to Q and taken a blood pledge to always fight him, always stand up to him, and never, ever let him break me.

For some reason, I’d let him pull away these past few days. I’d broken that vow by not fighting. I’d destroyed my side of the bargain because I’d let him win.

But not anymore.

I’d done a lot of thinking about the charity I’d seen on his desk and the reasons for his unhappiness. Seeds of ideas had sprouted into mildly terrifying but scarily exciting conclusions.

I think I know…

Q padded past the library, taking with him the fumes of whiskey. I waited as he patrolled the house, looking for me. Everyone had gone to bed even though it was only eleven p.m.

I was glad for the pretense of an empty home. We had no recovering women living under our roof tonight; the three rehabilitating girls in our current care slept in the house across the lawn with their families.

Which was good.

Because Q and I had a lot to talk about and I wasn’t entirely sure how it would end.

When he finally stalked through the premises and didn’t find me, he retraced his steps. My skin prickled as his footfalls sounded louder just before his shadow appeared in the doorway. The dog’s ears pricked; their black eyes zeroing in on the master of the household.

“There you are,
esclave
.”

His voice was heavy and potent, slipping through my blood like the alcohol he’d consumed. I doubted he’d eaten; I hadn’t seen him this pissed since the night the police arrived.

My body tingled, remembering what we’d done afterward. How connected we’d been. How in love I’d fallen from one night of unbridled monstrosity.

I wanted that to happen again.

I wanted him angry and rough. I wanted to be completely consumed. And I knew how to make that happen.

Placing the first edition copy of some French classic onto the side table by the wingback, I stood on firm legs. I’d slipped into a pastel pink negligee. My hair was freshly washed with air-dried curls, and my body hid behind the clinging satin, hinting at my curves. My hands curled for war, but my nipples betrayed me, pinpricking like diamonds against the lingerie, very visible and aching for his teeth.

I’d dressed accordingly for the sexual fight we would no doubt commit.

His eyes drifted to my chest, his throat working as he swallowed.

Q had only grown more attractive as he aged.

His sharp widow peak and soft green eyes were severe and pristine. His black suit and aubergine tie crisp and full of dominant authority. From his clipped fingernails to his polished, sharp teeth, Q was a predator through and through.

But I wasn’t his prey.

I was his equal. Hunting by his side, massacring our enemies, not afraid to enter a fight with him snarling beside me. But like any good partner, I submitted to him and only him. I sheathed my claws when he came for me. I bit but only gently. I let my mate mount me and fuck me because our power lay in the dynamics of being equals and accepting our place in life.

Our place together.

Q had forgotten his place.

I would help remind him of it.

Ignoring the dogs, I strode to meet him in the middle of the carpet. I tilted my head. His glassy eyes met mine, struggling to focus after drinking copious amounts of whiskey. “Hello,
maître.

“Bonsoir.”
Good evening.

His French never failed to lash around me with the softest threads and harshest demands. I shuddered with anticipation and desire. I wanted to give in to him so desperately, but I also wanted to fight.

We
needed
to fight. To air whatever it was that he hurt with.

I wouldn’t drag this out. We both knew we’d been stalemate. We hadn’t moved past the conversation we were about to have when Frederick had interrupted us.

As if no time had passed, I said, “I saw those papers on your desk. I know the ones you mean.”

Q stood ramrod straight. “We’re doing this now?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

A cloak of despondency settled over him. “Fine.” His fingers moved stealthy, undoing his tailored jacket and slipping it down his arms. Standing with only the slightest wobble, he undid his cufflinks, threw them to the floor, and rolled up his shirt cuffs. His tie was undone and tossed over the arm of the wingback while the first few buttons of his black shirt were undone to reveal a tease of the tattoo on his chest.

I didn’t know if he was preparing to talk or attack me.

My breathing turned feathery. Did he have to do that? In just a few motions, he’d made this layered with sex.

“Where do you want to start, Q?”

He chuckled with black undertones, “Oh, I can think of a few places.” He stalked me.

I parried back. If I let him touch me, it would be all over. The air crackled with pent-up lust. My voice wobbled. “Why did you get so upset? Why won’t you talk to me?”

“First, tell me what you saw.”

“I already told you.”

“No, you didn’t.” He shook his head, his eyes flashing. “Along with the animal charities, what else have I donated heavily to?”

My heart chased my lungs around. This was it. I didn’t look away. “Orphanages.”

His posture stiffened. “And—”

“And supporting unwanted babies with medical issues.”

He continued to corral me around the room. “Any idea why I would suddenly have the urge to help in that way after a lifetime of no interest?”

I shrugged, but I couldn’t hide the knowledge from blaring on my face.

He kept chasing me, backing me into the same desk that he’d swiped everything off and made me vow to love him no matter what. The polished wood stopped my retreat. He had me trapped. “Q…”

Deleting the space between us, he bared his teeth. “Yes, Tess?”

“I don’t know…”

“Yes, you do.”

“I need you to say it—”

He chuckled angrily. “No, you don’t. According to Frederick, you know more than you’ve let on.”

I do. Or at least, I think I do. But why won’t he admit it?

Feigning ignorance, I tried again. “Tell me...”

“Why should I?”

“Because I want the truth.”

He snarled. “The truth?”

My spine tensed. “Yes.”

Q jerked hands through his hair. “Okay…the truth.” Taking a shaking breath, he growled, “I want something I didn’t think I’d ever want.”

“You want to adopt?”

His glare pinned me into a panting statue. “Try again,
esclave
.”

Oh, my God.

I was right.

I’d wondered if this would ever happen. If Q would change his mind about having a family. He said he didn’t want one. How could he switch so quickly?

“You want a child?”

He didn’t reply, but his eyes glowed a deeper, truer green full of confession and guilt.

Why did he feel guilty? There was nothing to be guilty about. People changed their minds all the time.

My hastily formed conclusions from earlier turned from seedlings into thick roots threading through my heart.

A family…

“Is that true?”

His eyes dove into mine. “As much as I wish it wasn’t, yes, it’s true.”

“You’re helping with charities because your mind has turned to babies.”

A black cloud descended over him. “And what does that tell you, Tess?”

“You want a baby?”

His face hardened. “With?”

“With me?” My fingers fluttered over my chest. I wobbled at the thought of getting everything I’d ever dreamed of. I’d accepted his condition about not having children because I loved him enough to be complete without it. But hearing him admit to a change of heart…

I couldn’t explain the fizzing giddy sensation making its way through my blood.

I wanted to touch him, hug him…finally tell him my opinions about such a revelation.
Imagine sharing our wonderful life with a child of our own…wow
. Even though I’d known Q’s stance on starting a family, it didn’t mean I hadn’t tested his conviction over a year ago.

Dinner one night, I’d brought it up—very suave with no pressure—and Q hadn’t been interested in the slightest. I’d remained on my contraception injections and didn’t mention it again.

He’d been through a lot with his family, and I hadn’t had the best experience, either. If he didn’t want children, then I wouldn’t pressure him. I hadn’t brought it up again, which made this all the more precious because he’d come to this realisation on his own with no prompting or hinting from me.

He hadn’t replied.

I repeated my breathless question. “You’re saying you want a baby with me?”

Trembling, Q placed his hands on either side of me, hemming me against the desk. His eyes shot black, dropping to my lips as the heart-stopping words spilled from his lips. “More than fucking anything.”

“But…I don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand? I’ve had a change of heart. I never wanted kids, and now…now, I want it more than fucking anything because I love you. I want to multiply you. I want you pregnant with my,
our
child.”

Tears glossed my eyes. “But when we talked about it before you said—”

“I didn’t want this then.”

“So…what’s changed?”

His gaze devoured me.  “Me, you. Us. Everything. Can’t I change my mind about such things?”

I wanted to look away but couldn’t. My skin tingled with intensity. “But I’m on birth control. The injection doesn’t fade for another few months.”

Q reared back, yet another secret inscribed on his face. “Tess—”

For a moment, anger heated me. What had he done? But then fear filled me instead. Pushing off from the desk, I followed him. “What is it? What do you know that I don’t?”

Was he infertile? Did he have a vasectomy before we met?

What?

Dropping his gaze, he muttered, “You’ve been off contraception for two months.”

I stopped breathing.
“What?”

“The last appointment you had…” He stomped away, his voice full of emotion. “I know I shouldn’t have done it. But I wanted to see. I
needed
to see. If I got you pregnant, I would’ve been free to love you the way I have. I would’ve been fucking ecstatic.”

I wrapped my arms around myself suddenly icy cold. “You had the doctor give me a placebo? Q…why would you do such a thing? What if I’d changed my mind and no longer wanted children? What if I was on contraception because I agreed with you about keeping our family just the two of us?”

Q froze. “You have every fucking right to be angry at me.”

“Angry? I’m livid!” My hands balled. “You did that behind my back! For months, you’ve been feeling this way and only now you tell me? What would you have done if I
had
fallen pregnant, huh? Would you have told me that you deliberately knocked me up or lie about it being an accident? Would you have made me feel terrible for trapping you into something you didn’t want believing the injection failed?”

I couldn’t look at him.

Tearing past, I charged for the door. I needed some space, to get my head on so I didn’t say something I regretted.

But he didn’t let me.

His hand lashed out, fingers locking around my wrist. “You’re not going anywhere,
esclave.
You’re the one who wanted to talk.”

“Talk, yes. But not discover you’ve been lying to me for weeks!”

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