Page 16 of Defiant Queen (Mount Trilogy 2)
Where the decor I’d been surrounded by before was utterly feminine, this is the polar opposite, even though it’s the same color scheme. Mount’s masculine stamp is on every detail, from the soaring glossy black ceilings that are well over three times my height, to the matching thick black molding. An enormous black leather sectional sofa takes up the middle of the sitting room, across from a massive flat-screen TV that looks like it recesses into the wall to be hidden. The coffee table is also black lacquer with gold accents. A black-and-gold liquor cabinet holds more booze than the one in his library.
That may have been his escape, but this is Mount’s home. This is where he lives, where no one sees him. His scent pervades the room, getting stronger as I take a few more steps toward the next set of double doors. I peek inside to see a bedroom.
The bed is the largest one I’ve ever seen. It could sleep part of the Voodoo Kings and still have room for a few cheerleaders. The spread is black velvet, edged in gold, with black sheets and pillows.
“Do you like any colors other than black, white, and gold?”
Mount studies me as I explore his sanctuary. “No.”
I step back from the doorway, the ache between my legs telling me I don’t need to get too close to that bed, or there’s no telling what might happen.
Mount is turning me into an addict, stripping me of control of my own body and compelling me to hand it over willingly at the same time. It’s a paradox, one I don’t want to contemplate any more tonight. I step away from the bedroom.
All that matters right now is figuring out how I’m going to pull off the bank withdrawal Brett demanded, get him the money, and escape unscathed.
“Okay, so I’m going to need my trench coat, dark sunglasses, and a duffel bag. Preferably with some of those packets that explode dye in someone’s face so he can’t spend a damned dollar of it.” I’m already pacing Mount’s living room, something I find myself doing all too often lately. “And definitely a gun. I’ve been to the range a couple times, and I’m pretty sure I’d have no problem pulling the trigger if Brett waves his in my face again.”
Up until that moment, Mount has been content to let me ramble, but at that last sentence, he strides toward me and snags my elbow in his grip. “He held a gun on you?”
I nod.
“And you didn’t think that was fucking relevant to tell me?”
I bite my lip, because Mount’s tone sounds scarier than it has all night. The muscle in his jaw tenses when I don’t answer.
“He held a gun on you and threatened to kill your family.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“And scared you into agreeing to his plan?”
I nod sharply again before finding my voice. “If Scar says anything about me attacking him with a hammer and butcher knife when he burst in, you can tell him I thought he was Brett.”
Mount’s eyes widen, but his grip softens as his big thumb rubs back and forth along the skin of my arm. “Brett Hyde is never going to get the chance to do any of those things ever again.”
I remember what Mount said about making me a widow, but outside the heat of self-defense, I’m not sure I’m cold-blooded enough to order his execution. Instead, I say something that will allow me to sleep at night.
“You’re right, because I’m going to give him what he wants. Then I’ll never see him again.”
Mount releases his hold on me. “I can’t believe you’d consider giving him a dime.”
I hold my hands out like scales. “Money or family?” I drop the one representing family and raise the one symbolizing money. “Family outweighs every dollar I could ever make. What’s the point of any of it, if I don’t have them?”
Mount’s expression shutters. “You don’t even speak to your sisters regularly.”
I don’t want to ask how he knows that, because I’m sure the answer will send me into another pacing rant. “That doesn’t make them any less important to me. They’re my blood. Wouldn’t you sacrifice anything to save yours?”
Mount’s dark eyes harden as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, his thumbs moving across the screen. When he returns it to its spot, he looks up at me.
“I have to go.”
“Okay.” I follow him toward the door, intent on leaving with him, but he stops at the doorway.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Back to my gilded cage.”
He shakes his head. “This is your new home. Get used to it. V will be stationed outside, so don’t bother trying to leave.”
