After she practices shooting a few more times, we return the guns to the shed. Then I take her to the indoor training gym, to show her some basic fighting moves.

Lucas is there, sparring with three of the guards. Seeing us enter the room, he stops and respectfully nods at Nora, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on her face. He knows by now how I feel about her, and is smart enough not to display any interest in her slim, half-naked form. His sparring partners, however, are not that wise, and it takes a murderous glare from me for them to stop gaping at her.

“Hi Lucas,” Nora says, ignoring this little interplay. “It’s good to see you again.”

Lucas gives her a carefully neutral smile. “You too, Mrs. Esguerra.”

To my annoyance, Nora visibly flinches at the moniker, and my mild irritation with the guards morphs into sudden anger at her. Her reluctance to marry me earlier is like a festering splinter at the back of my brain, and it doesn’t take much to bring back the way I felt at the church.

For all of her supposed love for me, she still refuses to accept our marriage, and I’m no longer inclined to be reasonable and forgiving.

“Out,” I bark at Lucas and the guards, jerking my thumb toward the door. “We need this space.”

They clear out within seconds, leaving me and Nora alone.

She takes a step back, suddenly looking wary. She knows me well, and I can tell she senses something amiss.

As usual, she can guess what it is. “Julian,” she says cautiously, “I didn’t mean to react like that. I’m just not used to being called that, that’s all…”

“Is that right, my pet?” My voice is like brushed silk, reflecting none of the simmering fury inside. Stepping toward her, I lift my hand and slowly trace my fingers over her jawline. “Would you prefer not to be called that? Perhaps you wish I hadn’t come back for you at all?”

Her huge eyes grow even larger. “No, of course not! I told you, I want to be here with you—”

“Don’t lie to me.” The words come out cold and sharp as I drop my hand. It infuriates me that I care about this at all, that I let something as insignificant as Nora’s feelings bother me. What does it matter if she loves me? I shouldn’t want that from her, shouldn’t expect it. And yet I do—it’s part of this fucked-up obsession I have with her.

“I’m not lying,” she denies vehemently, taking a step back. Her face is pale in the dim light of the room, but her gaze is direct and unwavering as she stares at me. “I shouldn’t want to be with you, but I do. Do you think I don’t realize how wrong this is? How messed-up? You kidnapped me, Julian… You forced me.”

The accusation hangs between us, stark and heavy. If I were a different man, a better man, I would look away. I would feel remorse for what I’d done.