Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter Book 2) Page 12

  And I stop walking for a moment. Jan is a longtime friend of our families, a member of several clubs we are part of, and a close friend of Sebastian and me. Needless to say, knowing he’s going through a divorce makes me want to call him straightaway. “No way? Are you serious?” As he nods, I add, “Fuck… They used to be so in love.”

  “It’s a messy divorce.” Sebastian stops walking too, and, as he looks me in the eye, he says, “He’s been convicted of marital rape, and Julia is now reviewing his appeal.”

  I gape in total awe. “What?” Talk about a messy divorce… “You can’t be serious. How do you even prove that?”

  “No idea. I think the judge just wanted to make a point. It’s most likely political. But if Julia doesn’t do something, Jan will serve two years in prison.”

  “I can’t believe it,” I tell him, shaking my head as I draw in a breath. “Well, I’m sure Julia will take care of it.” In an effort to close the subject, I start walking again.

  Sebastian replies with a smile and follows closely beside me. After a few minutes of silence, I hear him ask, “Um, does Petra still talk to her mother?”

  The question makes me squint my eyes. “Not that I’m aware of. Why?”

  “Well…” He pauses for a beat, considering me. “I just wanted to know what kind of relationship she has with her…”

  Ah, the real reason why he mentioned Jan’s case. “Petra doesn’t talk to her, since Tess is against us being together.”

  “Good…” He nods, and as I look at him, I notice a faint smile settling on his lips. “Very good.”

  My brows crease together as I can see that Sebastian is engrossed in thought. “May I ask why you wanted to know?”

  “I just…” He lets his words trail off as we keep walking through the woods. “I just wanted to make sure she won’t miss her.”

  But I grab his arm, stopping him immediately. “Hey, there is no need for that.”

  With an inquiring look, his attention goes first to his arm, which I release at the realization of my impulse. “I’m not saying I will do something,” he replies, his tone just as calm as before. “At least, not for now…” But this time it comes out heavier, carrying a darkness beyond what I could have imagined.

  “Sebastian,” I snap. Despite facing each other, our expressions remain unreadable, the tension between us palpable. “Tess might be a threat, but she hasn’t done anything.”

  “Until you marry her daughter,” he ripostes, his eyes never leaving mine. “You know what’s at stake, right?”

  “I know…” Breaking eye contact, I have to empathize with his concerns. I’d have done the same if I were in his position. “I’m still hoping I can dissuade her before that.”

  Sebastian cracks a quick chuckle. “Right, that woman won’t stop until we…” But he stops before unleashing the rest—and I’m grateful that he does so. “Anyway, let’s keep moving. We need to find that bear.”

  While Sebastian keeps walking, focused on the hunt, the idea that he would actually do something to Tess has left a bitter taste in my mouth and a terrible knot in my stomach.

  “Look!” Sebastian shouts in a whisper, bringing me back to reality. He points his index finger at the black bear standing on the other side of the river, casually drinking from the water. The animal is still far away from us, although maybe ten more steps and Sebastian will be good to shoot. We are approaching the feeding area that Mark pointed out, and with some luck, we might even see some more bears around. The excitement running through him makes me smile as we silently move closer to our target. “Isn’t he majestic?” he asks, marveling at his prey. “It’s gonna make a great addition to your trophy room.” He pats me before jokingly adding, “But I want my name on it.”

  I see him quietly pointing his rifle and inspecting the target through the riflescope. He’s too far away though. There is at least seventy-five percent chance he will miss it if he tries to shoot now.

  “We are too far,” he says, lowering the rifle. “We have to hide behind that tree.”

  Looking in my riflescope, I briefly check the target, adjusting the magnification. It’s a mature male for sure, suitable for harvest. And while I don’t see any issue with that, Petra’s voice is now haunting me. It’s a life! A bear has the right to live, just like you! I remember her shouting. We silently get behind the trunk, where Sebastian lies on the ground. From where he is, the view to the bear is unobstructed, and he should make it with a broadside shot.

  “Perfect,” I hear him saying as he looks through the riflescope. But a flash of Petra’s angry expression travels through me again, and I know if I don’t do something right now, she will be utterly devastated.

  Standing behind Sebastian, I take my iPhone out and simply press the ring bell. The sound breaks through the woods, ending with our perfect silence. The bear’s attention perks up instantly, and his eyes drift in our direction, searching out where the noise came from, and a second later, our target runs away.

  “Fuck,” Sebastian chides. “What was that?”

  “I’m sorry—I thought my phone was on silent.”

  “He’s gone now,” he rebukes, standing up from the ground. Drawing in a breath and exhaling, he observes me quietly and asks, “She asked you to do it, huh?” He knows me so well. And I’m not even sure my expression says otherwise. “Wow. And you’re not even married,” he says, head shaking, before he starts to walk back to where we came from. “Alright, I don’t want you to be punished if you bring a carcass home.”

  “Don’t exaggerate,” I brush him off.

  “Really?” He stands still, observing me for a second. “And what about our duck hunting in the winter? Are you gonna need her permission?”

  “I…” As much as I know it’s gonna hurt, I’ve got to tell him the truth. “I don’t think I’ll be able to hunt anymore, Sebastian. I can join you, but I won’t be able to shoot.”

  “But you used to love hunting. We used to do it every year.” His stare goes to the ground, as he seems to be thinking something through, before it drifts back up to me. “You spent ten years with Amanda, yet she never prevented you from hunting.”

  “I know, but Petra is a vegetarian. This goes against everything she stands for.”

  “Yeah, but you aren’t,” he replies just as fast. “She’s imposing her views on you. Soon enough, she’ll dictate what you can and cannot eat.”

  I must say, his bewilderment is pretty fun to watch. And just to horrify him a bit further, I say, “Actually, when it’s only the two of us, we just eat vegetarian.”

  He blinks twice, containing the urge to gape, and his expression is as amusing as I expected. “Are you serious?”

  I force myself not to laugh, and reveling in my little game, I keep going, “I don’t mind. In Aspen, I spent a week eating vegetarian, and I survived.”

  “Oh boy,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes. Then a rush of air leaves his mouth as he shakes his head. “See? With Amanda, you always remained yourself.”

  “Amanda and I had a different arrangement,” I remind him once more.

  “And that arrangement was good for you,” he presses on. “You were always in control, but now? Sorry, buddy, but not anymore.”

  “Well, Petra and I don’t have any arrangement to begin with,” I riposte as we keep strolling through the woods.

  “Oh, she definitely has one with you, even if you know nothing about it,” Sebastian unleashes. I frown at his comment. “She knows she can control you with her sweet little voice and smile. Petra is not stupid—she knows how to get what she wants.”

  “C’mon, Petra is not controlling me.” But I know I’m just fooling myself.

  “Well, she proposed, she decided the date of your wedding, she doesn’t want you to hunt, she dictates what you eat in your own house…”

  “The things one does for love…” I chuckle. And while Sebastian seems to be utterly outraged, I’m pretty okay with everything he mentioned.

  “My relation
ship with Petra is different from the ones I had before. And that’s exactly what I like about it,” I tell him, hoping to close the subject once and for all. Damn it, I shouldn’t have opened up to him in the first place.

  But Sebastian doesn’t seem to get it. “And how did she even find out about the trophy room? You told me no one knew about that place.”

  Letting out a sigh, annoyed at his insistence, I mumble, “Most likely Maria told her.”

  “And now your own employees are loyal to her? Soon enough, she’ll be like Margaret and you will be Hendrik.”

  “Enough," I bark. “Dad deserved it. I will never cheat on my wife.”

  “That’s not what I—”

  “Look, I appreciate your concerns. But don’t ever compare us to my parents again.”

  I’ve never raised my voice to Sebastian before. And I hope I never have to do it again. With so much friction between us, we leave the woods in a painful silence, and, even worse, we are both too proud to apologize.

  Chapter 12

  Petra Van Gatt

  There is one thing I’m getting pretty used to in this house. And that is the comfy sofa in Alex’s office. I’ve started a habit of lying there and reading while listening to a jazzy playlist or just spending time on the phone with Emma, which is what I’m currently doing. All of a sudden, though, I hear a few knocks on the door and I put my call on mute, right before Maria walks in. “Miss?” she says as she stands in the doorway. “Mr. Van Dieren would like to talk to you. May I escort you?”

  Oh! He’s finally back? “Um, sure.” Putting my iPhone back to my ear, I say to Emma, “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.”

  “Good luck,” she says before hanging up.

  To my disgust, Maria escorts me again to the most horrible room in this house—the trophy room. I’m enraged simply at the idea that he wants to meet me there again.

  She knocks out of politeness and, at the sound of his approval, opens the door, inviting me in.

  As I walk in, I see him leaning against the antique wooden desk, his head slightly down as he looks absently at the floor. At least he had the decency to change his attire to a casual one.

  “Where’s the bear?” I ask, moving closer to him.

  His eyes travel up to my face, and, to my surprise, his expression is unreadable. “Sebastian missed it,” he replies.

  “And you?”

  “I didn’t shoot.” I smile immediately, but not him. His tone and face are unusually grave. He paces slowly in my direction and then stops right in front of me, glaring at me for some unknown reason. “And I hated not being able to, Petra.”

  Oh, he’s still annoyed because of the hunt? I do my best not to roll my eyes at his comment. “Sorry,” I brush off. But in my mind, I’m doing a happy dance at the idea that I saved a poor bear.

  “Look me in the eye.” Not that I want to, but I do so to avoid a useless argument between us. “Now tell me, how did you find this room?”

  Uh, oh. “I found it by myself.”

  “I’m gonna repeat the question.”

  Jeez, my heart starts thundering, and my gaze drops to the floor. “Look at me,” he demands.

  I meet his frigid glare again, but it’s becoming quite uncomfortable to do so. “How did you find this room? Last chance to tell me the truth,” he warns.

  My breathing becomes heavy, and I’m sure I’m blushing a sharp shade of red as I keep staring into his blue eyes. Nevertheless, I swallow my anxiety and say, “I told you, I found it by myself.”

  But he knows I’m lying. Studies have shown that liars’ pupils often dilate when they’re telling a lie, and mine must have betrayed me a long time ago.

  Blowing out a breath, he moves his hands behind his back and his gaze drops to the floor for a moment. Then, as they raise up again to meet mine, he says, “Miss Van Gatt…” Wow. He hasn’t addressed me so formally in such a long time that it feels weird and awkward hearing my surname out of the blue. “You’ve really crossed the line this time.” Oh gosh! I swallow dryly at his statement. What does that even mean? His voice is calculated, cold, yet laced with so much disappointment that I feel tempted for a moment to apologize and tell him the truth. Then I can’t help but wonder if he’s gonna cancel our engagement just because of a little lie. No, he wouldn’t do that! “Very well…” he mumbles as he ponders something. “Take off your clothes.”

  My heart freezes at his request. “What? Here?”

  “Yes, here.”

  His answer has my blood boiling, and I snap, “Or else what?”

  “Or else Maria is fired.”

  “No!” I implore. “You can’t do that.”

  “Then do as you are told.”

  Such a fucking asshole, I think to myself. But I will never let Maria get fired. That woman and her family have dedicated their whole lives to serving the Van Dierens, and I know it’d break her heart if she had to leave because of me. “Okay, I… I’ll take them off.”

  With shaky hands, I first reach down to my All Stars and remove them. Then I unbutton and unzip my jeans, quite self-conscious at the embarrassment I feel. My fiancé keeps watching without an ounce of enjoyment. And for some odd reason, I was expecting some sort of appreciation for the show I’m giving him. I don’t know, maybe a smile? But no—his expression remains just as severe. The same as he had when he found Emma and me behind bars. Taking a deep breath in and out, I push my jeans down, until I lift one leg and then the other to remove them completely, and drop them on the floor. After that, I reach for my sweater and pull it off. And here I am standing in my knickers in his cold, disgusting trophy room and the thought of it makes me hate him even more. But instead of cursing him, I ask, “And now?”

  Without a once of joy, he says, “Your panties too.”

  Fuck you! I want to protest, chuckle, tell him to fuck off, but I don’t. Maria’s employment is at stake, and I will do whatever it takes to keep my promise to her.

  I leave my sweater on the floor before reaching for the waistband of my cotton underwear. It’s not even a sexy lace thong. Nope. Just a comfy pair of knickers that I brought from home. I push them slowly down my legs, and I’m pretty conscious of the fact that he is watching me do so.

  Once they are in my hands, I put them on top of my clothes and say, “Done.” But I don’t even dare to look at him. My gaze goes to the floor—it feels safer.

  And I wish I were deaf so I didn’t hear him say, “Bend over the table.”

  Not a fucking chance! I look in front of me at the rustic dark wood table, and then at the elephant head right behind it.

  For a moment, I forget to breathe, but honestly, I would rather faint than have to look at the dead animals surrounding me while I’m bent over that table as he does God knows what.

  Since I’m still conscious and alive, I’ve got no option but to obey. My heart is stuck in my throat, but I slowly walk toward the table, bending over as he asked.

  In that moment, I’m expecting maybe the sound of his zipper opening, but after waiting a few more seconds, I hear only his footsteps walking in my direction and then him standing still at my side.

  “Bottom up,” he demands.

  My ass up? Fuck… I want to cry at the most horrendous moment in my life. Sticking my bare bottom up in the freezing air of this room, I keep my legs straight and my arms stretched out on the surface. There are no words to describe how vulnerable and exposed I feel with my bottom presented to him in this manner. I wonder if I will hear his pants unfastening now. But again—no zipper, no belt, nothing. As one of his hands rests on my lower back, I only feel warmth coming from his other palm as he rubs my buttocks in a circular motion.

  “You’ve got such a beautiful ass,” he praises in a low voice, carrying the same severity in his tone. Alex keeps caressing them with such a gentle touch that it starts to make me drenched. Oh jeez, arousal starts rising between my legs at the feel of his presence, his energy, his body, and the fact that we haven’t made love for such a
long time is becoming unbearable. “Mmm…” I quickly lick my lips while he massages me. Heat keeps spreading, but so does the sexual tension between us. My heart is thundering, and I wonder what the hell is going on. As I’m about to ask him just that, I suddenly feel his palm leave my right cheek, only to smack it a second later.

  “Ow!” I chide at the blow.

  No one—literally no one—in my entire life has ever dared to spank me! What the fuck is wrong with him?! Then there’s nothing but a light caress over my buttocks to soothe the sting. This feels really good though. But then his hand leaves my butt again, only to strike it a second later, this time on my left cheek. “Ow…” I wince, the sting rising on the other side, but so does my wetness.

  “You’re gonna get ten swats for lying and eight more for your attitude this morning,” he explains, his voice strident but not angry. “Do you understand?” But I don’t answer. I can still barely believe what’s happening, and my heart is hammering nonstop, my body sweating. “Petra?”

  “Yes,” I tell him, knowing if I don’t comply, Maria will get fired, and that’s definitely not an option for me. “I do.”

  “Yes, please,” he commands.

  “What?!” Another blow. “Ouch!” I cannot for the life of me believe he’s asking me to answer him with “please.”

  “You heard me very well,” he scolds. “I want you to say ‘yes, please’ before you take the rest of your punishment with grace and composure.”

  I’m left speechless at his statement. What happened to him? Was it Sebastian who told him to do this? How am I even supposed to take this with grace and composure? Saying “please” would make it seem like he’s doing me a favor. Thinking a bit more, though… okay, maybe he is, since Maria won’t get fired. Swallowing my pride, I simply repeat those words for the sake of having it done. “Yes, please.” Another swat. “Fuck!”

  “Stop swearing,” he snaps back.

  Four have landed already, but I can’t fathom how to endure fourteen more. “Eighteen is a lot.” That’s the only thing I manage to say. Then I realize it’s my own age, and I wonder if he did it on purpose.