“She’ll have all the money—”

“Not with money.” He pinned me. “She’s disappearing, Grayson.”

We both looked at her, asleep in the corner, neck at an odd angle.

“You and I both know you can’t take someone like her as a wife.”

I ground my jaw. “Maybe I can.”

“Your father tried that.”

A yawn drew our attention, and we both turned to see Story stretching awake.

“You’re awake.” Story smiled at Woodsy, but the smile dropped when she saw me. She straightened in the chair and said, “I’ll go get you breakfast.”

I followed her out of the room. “This is where you slept last night?”

“Yeah,” she said without turning around.

Distance. Growing like a weed. I wanted to pull it out at the roots.

I grabbed her elbow, stopping her. “You sleep in my bed.”

She stared forward.

Only my grip on her biceps keeping her from walking away.

“Anything else, Mr. Grayson?”

I wanted to teach her a lesson for that obvious disobedience. Put her on her knees. Fuck her. Bite her.

Really, I wanted to pull her into a hug and comfort her.

Fuck, she’d be the death of me.

“Be in my room by five,” I said, voice strangled.

“Of course, Mr. Grayson.”

My grip tightened, and then I let her go.

STORY

Grayson paused when he came to his room, finding me on my knees and my eyes down.

“There’s a dress hanging up for you in my closet.”

I stood. “Sure, Mr. Grayson.”

“Call me that again, see what happens,” he growled at my back.

I swallowed but ignored the goose bumps on my skin.

Grayson hadn’t chosen me—over and over again he hadn’t chosen me.

I nearly lost my breath when I saw what was hanging in his closet.

Once again it was like Gray knew me down to my marrow. The dress was me. It went all the way up to my neck and down to my wrists, but the sleeves and neck were a sheer material embroidered with hundreds of little blue dots. I was covered, and uncovered, at the same time. It was a gorgeous cornflower blue that looked great with my dark skin, and the skirt flounced along with the neckline. I felt like I belonged in a fairy tale, as a nutcracker princess.

When Gray saw me, he swallowed a noise in his throat, and my belly twisted into knots. He stood off the couch and came to me, dressed to kill in a perfectly tailored black suit that somehow looked both disheveled and intentional.

“I’m regretting this dress,” he said, twisting my lip between his fingers. Though he dragged my lip between his thumb and forefinger, his eyes hadn’t strayed from my body. Soaking me up. Swallowing me whole.

“Why?” I croaked.

Slowly his eyes found mine, burning. “I was getting used to keeping you all to myself.”