bear.
"Really?" He lifted an eyebrow slightly, before turning back to the counter. "Nothing to sleep in?"
"I'll be fine," I said, firmly. "Thank you for everything."
He cleared his throat quietly. "We need to discuss the terms of your stay here."
I blinked once, twice. My heart briefly stopped beating.
"Terms?" I repeated.
Tate's face was a perfect blank, his eyes fathomless and dark. I felt decidedly chilled as he sat down, interlacing his fingers and looking at me.
"This is my house," he said. "I live here. Alone. I have for a long time. I'm not accustomed to tolerating another person in my space. But if you're willing to follow certain rules, I don't foresee that this will be terribly unpleasant for either of us."
This time, I had to clear my throat a few times before my voice would come out. "Rules?" I echoed.
"My house, my rules," he said, with a humorless smile. "Do we have a problem?"
My hands were clasped so tightly in my lap, my knuckles must be white. "What are they?"
Tate sighed. "Does it really matter?"
"Of course it matters." My jaw clenched. "How could it not ?"
"Because." He leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table. "You sold yourself into slavery. Wantonly . You knew exactly what this entailed - either that, or you're the stupidest girl on the planet. And that, I don't quite believe."
My hands clenched tighter, but I couldn't speak.
His smile was still chilling, but now, there was something else behind his eyes. I ached to understand it, but it was hidden too well under the shadows. "You wanted to give up your freedom in exchange for safety. So, this is it. I'm making you a deal. You proposed it last night, I'm accepting. But I have to get something in return."
Tate's eyes fixed on my face, suddenly, challenging. Demanding. I didn't know what he wanted me to say, and I didn't dare speak, even if I could.
"These are my terms," he said. "You already know what will happen to you, out there in the world. I trust I don't need to point that out, or offer any further incentives for you to stay. You'll be fed and clothed here. You'll have anything I can offer you, within reason. I will protect you, as long as you're here. But as soon as you step outside these doors, I can't guarantee your safety."
I nodded. So far, this was actually sensible. I began to relax a little.
But only a little.
"If," he said, raising a finger, "if I find out that you've lied to me, or betrayed me, or withheld something that I have the right to know - the agreement ends. You will leave, and I will do nothing to protect you anymore."
I nodded again.
"These are the rules of conduct," he said. "Whether or not you decide to honor them is up to you. But know that it's in your best interests not to irritate me. If you become an irritation, that will quickly outweigh any benefits of having you here in the first place. Do you understand?"
I felt very cold again. "Yes."
"The first rule: no questions."
I had to bite my tongue.
He saw it, and smiled. "Obviously, not all questions are off-limits. But I trust you to know the difference."
Everything I wanted to know, everything I needed to know, I wasn't allowed to ask. Of course. That was only expected.
"The second rule: my door stays open. This is not an invitation. If I catch you watching me again, I promise you won't enjoy it, this time."
My heartbeat quickened. "I didn't..."
Tate silenced me with a raised hand.
"The third rule: no lying."
He smirked. The bastard smirked . I wanted to kick him under the table.
"Fourth rule: Obey me."
My throat tightened.
"I won't ask for anything outrageous," he said, coolly. "Simple things. Things that a secretary or a housekeeper would do. You'll follow these orders promptly and without question."
"That's it," he said, as I fumed. "Easy enough, isn't it?"
Tate had me over a barrel, and he knew it. The only way I could win was by pretending none of this unnerved me.
"Fine," I said, evenly. "That sounds fair to
"Really?" He lifted an eyebrow slightly, before turning back to the counter. "Nothing to sleep in?"
"I'll be fine," I said, firmly. "Thank you for everything."
He cleared his throat quietly. "We need to discuss the terms of your stay here."
I blinked once, twice. My heart briefly stopped beating.
"Terms?" I repeated.
Tate's face was a perfect blank, his eyes fathomless and dark. I felt decidedly chilled as he sat down, interlacing his fingers and looking at me.
"This is my house," he said. "I live here. Alone. I have for a long time. I'm not accustomed to tolerating another person in my space. But if you're willing to follow certain rules, I don't foresee that this will be terribly unpleasant for either of us."
This time, I had to clear my throat a few times before my voice would come out. "Rules?" I echoed.
"My house, my rules," he said, with a humorless smile. "Do we have a problem?"
My hands were clasped so tightly in my lap, my knuckles must be white. "What are they?"
Tate sighed. "Does it really matter?"
"Of course it matters." My jaw clenched. "How could it not ?"
"Because." He leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table. "You sold yourself into slavery. Wantonly . You knew exactly what this entailed - either that, or you're the stupidest girl on the planet. And that, I don't quite believe."
My hands clenched tighter, but I couldn't speak.
His smile was still chilling, but now, there was something else behind his eyes. I ached to understand it, but it was hidden too well under the shadows. "You wanted to give up your freedom in exchange for safety. So, this is it. I'm making you a deal. You proposed it last night, I'm accepting. But I have to get something in return."
Tate's eyes fixed on my face, suddenly, challenging. Demanding. I didn't know what he wanted me to say, and I didn't dare speak, even if I could.
"These are my terms," he said. "You already know what will happen to you, out there in the world. I trust I don't need to point that out, or offer any further incentives for you to stay. You'll be fed and clothed here. You'll have anything I can offer you, within reason. I will protect you, as long as you're here. But as soon as you step outside these doors, I can't guarantee your safety."
I nodded. So far, this was actually sensible. I began to relax a little.
But only a little.
"If," he said, raising a finger, "if I find out that you've lied to me, or betrayed me, or withheld something that I have the right to know - the agreement ends. You will leave, and I will do nothing to protect you anymore."
I nodded again.
"These are the rules of conduct," he said. "Whether or not you decide to honor them is up to you. But know that it's in your best interests not to irritate me. If you become an irritation, that will quickly outweigh any benefits of having you here in the first place. Do you understand?"
I felt very cold again. "Yes."
"The first rule: no questions."
I had to bite my tongue.
He saw it, and smiled. "Obviously, not all questions are off-limits. But I trust you to know the difference."
Everything I wanted to know, everything I needed to know, I wasn't allowed to ask. Of course. That was only expected.
"The second rule: my door stays open. This is not an invitation. If I catch you watching me again, I promise you won't enjoy it, this time."
My heartbeat quickened. "I didn't..."
Tate silenced me with a raised hand.
"The third rule: no lying."
He smirked. The bastard smirked . I wanted to kick him under the table.
"Fourth rule: Obey me."
My throat tightened.
"I won't ask for anything outrageous," he said, coolly. "Simple things. Things that a secretary or a housekeeper would do. You'll follow these orders promptly and without question."
"That's it," he said, as I fumed. "Easy enough, isn't it?"
Tate had me over a barrel, and he knew it. The only way I could win was by pretending none of this unnerved me.
"Fine," I said, evenly. "That sounds fair to
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