Ruthless King

It was just the idea of him moving in the middle of the night and setting up a spider nest in her hair . . .

Oh God.

She was going to be ill.

The door suddenly banged open and she jumped, looking at the container in Regent’s hands.

“Is that Clive? Did you get him? Is he all right?”

“Jilly,” he said in a low, dark voice.

Uh-oh.

“Um, yes?” She glanced up at him, swallowing heavily. He didn’t look happy. And had that red mark on his forehead been there before?

“The spider is fine. It’s a spider. But we’re never going to talk about this again, understand?”

“Yes, sir.” She mimed zipping her lips and throwing away the key.

After setting the container down, he moved toward her, crowding her up against the bed. But she didn’t feel alarmed this time.

Nope. She felt a lot of feelings . . . but none of them were fear.

Most of them were centered around thinking about how fucking hot he looked when he was mad. She wondered what it would be like if he just threw her on the bed right now and made angry love to her.

Pretty fucking hot, she was guessing. He might even rip her clothes off and spank her ass.

Bad Jilly.

Concentrate.

“Jilly. Are you paying attention to me?”

Oh shit.

Had he been speaking to her?

Oops.

“Where did you go just now?” he asked.

“Um.”

He eyed her for a long moment, then shook his head. She braced herself for his disappointment. Jilly had received a lot of disappointment from people over the years.

No one understood why she lived so much in her head.

Then again, no one had lived the life she had. Grown up with her father.

If they had, they might take refuge in books and daydreams.

Sometimes escapism was the only thing that kept her sane.

“I’m sorry, I was thinking.”

“About?”

Well, she could hardly tell him that she was wondering how hot angry-sex would be with him.