After washing her hands, she stared at herself in the mirror. She looked pretty good for having gone through a forced wedding, a botched kidnapping and an impromptu flight to a deserted island. Her makeup was still intact and though there were some escaping wisps, her updo still looked fantastic.

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and re-entered the house to face Volkan. This time, she would make him listen to her. She wasn’t going to let him accuse her of running away when she’d done nothing of the sort. They were married now and married couples communicated. Or they should.

Stepping through the door, she glanced around for him. “Volkan?”

He stepped out of the shadows and strode toward her, his huge body lit up from the moonlight spilling through the massive windows. Shadows fell across his face, obscuring his expression, but she could feel the menace emanating from him.

“Volkan, we need to talk,” she said firmly. “You don’t know what really happen – ” Before she could finish, he pulled her into his body, his lips crashing down on hers.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“Volkan, not like this!” She twisted her head to the side and tried to reason with him. “We have to talk first.”

“No,” he snarled, picking her struggling body off the floor and tossing her over his shoulder. “We’ve spent weeks talking and I’m not getting through. If you refuse to love me the way I love you, then you’ll stay here until you do.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” she shouted, beating her fists against his back.

He walked through the foyer to the staircase leading up to the second floor and began climbing. Yasmin bounced against his shoulder, her stomach striking him painfully. Her veil caught on the post at the bottom of the stairs and flew off her head, floating to the white marble floor. Nausea threatened to have her spilling her supper down Volkan’s back, but before it could happen, they made it up the stairs and he kicked open the door to a bedroom, striding inside and tossing her on the bed.

“Volkan!”

He came down on top of her, his lips crushing hers, his tongue thrusting against hers. He stole her breath and her will in that one harsh kiss, reminding her of the sensations he could build inside her when he put his mind to it.

He gripped the neckline of her dress.

“No, Volkan, don’t,” she begged, her hand landing on his, trying to pull him away from the delicate fabric. “Your mother will be devastated.”

“What do you care about my family?” he asked coldly, tearing the fabric from neck to hem and then viciously yanking it from her body.

Tears pricked her eyes, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He smashed his mouth against hers while touching her exposed body, running his hands over her, touching her with purpose but little passion.