His elbows rested on the table, and his hands came together in front of his lips. He stared me down, for seconds that felt like minutes. “Our wealth and reputation were stolen from us. I had to earn it back to reclaim my title.”

“Who’s us?”

“My family.” He continued to remain tense, the veins popping in his arms, like he was forcing himself to answer, forcing himself to share a piece of his life with me.

“Who took it away from you?”

Silence stretched. Stretched so far that the string broke. “You know me in the ways that matter. My past has nothing to do with us—”

“If it has nothing to do with us, then why won’t you tell me—”

“Because I don’t want to.” He raised his voice slightly, bringing me and the entire house into silence. “I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to talk about it. Conversation over.”

Once we were on the bed, his foul mood evaporated.

He was on top of me, taking me slowly, taking me over and over, his kisses on my neck and jawline, his mouth against my ear so I could listen to him breathe. When we were connected this way, he was the softest—his mind, body, and soul wrapped around mine. Without saying the words, he made me feel loved, made me feel secure in his commitment, safe in his devotion, made me feel things no other man ever had.

When we were finished, he lay beside me, his fingers slightly grazing over my skin. He would press a kiss to my shoulder for no reason. He would stare at me like he hadn’t stared at me all day. Whatever he had of me, it just wasn’t enough. Never enough.

I propped myself up on my elbow and turned to him, my palm planted against his stomach. I stared at the hardness of his physique, the strength of his abs, his two pecs that looked like concrete slabs.

His fingers slid through my hair, gently brushing it out of my face. His fingers moved underneath my chin and gently lifted my eyes, wanting my stare to meet his. His fingers released me and slipped back into my hair once he had me in the right position. I was the painting—and he savored me like art.

I saw a man who would do anything for me. Anything at all. “I want you to do something for me…” My heart raced because the moment had arrived. I didn’t plan it, but it suddenly felt like the best time to make my case, to plead with his heart that was literally in my hands.

His eyes shifted back and forth as he waited for the request.

“I want you to free her…for me.”