CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

I fucking love you,I thought as I watched Naya in her tiny flats, standing on a ladder dusting the books along the top shelf of her bookstore. Her long, suede skirt the colors of melted caramel swayed around her ankles. The satin blouse in shiny teal stretches and shifts across her breasts, the neat row of tiny, pearl buttons taunting me to undo.

It had been two weeks since I put my ring on her finger, and I hadn't gone an hour without touching her.

Kissing her.

Fucking her.

Christ, I was stunned either of us could even walk. My birthday alone had been a twenty-four-hour blur of skin, teeth and Naya's body obeying my every command, interrupted only by sleep, shower, and food. She was insatiable and I was ravenous for her. I couldn't get enough.

"Thoran?" Vance's annoyed tone pulled me away from my single-minded focus to join my advisor at the table Naya had arranged specifically for me when I made it clear that she wasn't leaving my sights even if that meant moving my meetings to wherever she was.

But only meetings with Vance. I considered making the bookstore the official location where other members and leaders could find me. It would have been good for Naya's business, too, but I didn't want them to know her.

I didn't want them to touch her with their eyes. Their thoughts. Eventually, they would meet her and there was nothing I could do to stop that but for now she was my little secret.

"Are you sure you want me to put the paperwork through?" Vance muttered louder, loud enough that Naya glanced over, her expression curious.

"Yes," I said to him, but my eyes were on her and the timid smile she shot me. "The bookstore is hers. No stipulations."

Vance tapped his pen on his desk. "This was your mother's. Are you sure you don't want to at least be a silent partner? Or just hire her to run it."

I shook my head. "You didn't see her face when she walked in the first time, Vance. Mom built this place for her, and people like her. It should belong to someone who will love it the way she did."

Vance sighed. I could tell he didn't understand, but I did, and Mom would agree.

"The girl doesn't even have a bank account," he pressed. "She has nothing. No contribution. No ties. No family. She's like a stray you adopted off the street."

He had my attention now. Fully and not in any way anyone ever wanted, but it was on him, fixing him to his seat. I knew the moment he realized his mistake, but it was too late.

"Careful," I warned very slowly, letting power soak into the single threat.

The chair beneath him creaked with his anxious shifting. "You're right. I went too far. I apologize."

I understood his job. I knew he was very good at it. He'd been there for my father and had never steered me wrong after I took over. I respected his advice and normally, didn't question his motives because they always aligned with my own thoughts. But his disrespect of Naya would not do, nor would I allow it.

"She is my wife," I said evenly. "I'm her family and you will speak to her and about her with respect. Do you understand?"

He was silent for a long moment before he inclined his head once.

"Good." I sat back, unclenching my fists. "Open her a joint account under my name but fully hers. I want no access or updates on it. I want money deposited into it every month. Elysium Plains has its own business account. Put her name on all the required documents and give her full access."

I looked over to where Naya was still on the ladder but peering down at Ivelle who was holding up a thin, clear glass of something thick and yellow. A plastic straw jutted up and Naya took a sip. She blinked and I could see her struggling to swallow as the girl stared up at her hopefully.

Every muscle in her throat bobbed, but she worked hard not to make a face.

She said something to the girl. A lie judging from the excited little hop Ivelle did before hurrying back to the counter, leaving Naya with the drink she was still trying to swallow.

Must have been pretty awful because she never hesitated swallowing. The dirty thought teased a grin around my lips that Naya must have sensed because she glanced my way. I hid the quirk, by motioning her over.

She approached with her new beverage and set it down in front of me.

"Ivelle has made a new drink. Try it."

I really did not want to given her reaction, but I brought it over and took a tentative sip.

My eyes watered and my cheeks sucked in at the brutally sour concoction that curdled in my gut.

"She wants to call it Sour Endings."

I set it down and nudged it aside. "Maybe we should hire someone to do the drinks," I offered.

Naya blinked. "Why? Ivelle is really good, and she gets so excited."

I dropped it.

"Vance has the paperwork to sign this place over to you."

I pulled her into my lap and Vance started going over the pages we had just gone through. I watched Naya listen attentively and ask her own questions. She glanced to me when she was given a pen.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "This was your mom's place. What if you change your mind? I don't know the first thing about running ... anything. What if I make a mistake and I lose your mom's bookstore?"

I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "This building is fully bought out. There's property taxes and a few other bills, but they will be taken care of."

She stared into my eyes, hers full of worry and uncertainty. "Can we share? Please? Maybe just until I figure it all out?"

I touched her face and felt my heart kick in my chest when she nuzzled into my palm. "If that's what you want."

She relaxed against me and laid her head on my shoulder as Vance rewrote the agreement. I ran my fingers through her hair and along her back.

When it was all done and she was part owner of Elysium Plains, she kissed me.

"I'll take the best care of her. Thank you."

Her joy was only shadowed slightly by the knowledge that Mom would have been there with her. They would have run that place together. I could almost see them there, laughing, reading.

Enjoying Ivelle's disgusting drinks.

"I know you will," I murmured, smoothing a piece of hair behind her ear.

Ivelle called her over to show her the expresso machine and Naya hurried to the counter.

I took the drink she left behind and sipped.

It was growing on me.

It was the subtle hum from my companion that distracted me.

"What?"

Vance looked over the pages, brows creased. His hesitation had me glancing at the papers in his hands. My gaze flicked up to his, waiting. The V between his white eyebrows deepened, mirroring the deep lines around his mouth. He could have sucked down the entire glass of Sour Endings the way he was chewing on his cheek.

"Vance?" I pressed.

His nostrils flared once before he folded his long hands over the pages with the pen still woven between the fingers and looked to me.

"Sir, I hope you know that what I do is always done with your wellbeing and growth in mind. I have done so with your father and with you. That is my job and what I do very well." I didn't interrupt even when he paused. He sucked down another breath before plunging on. "I understand that you care very deeply for your new—"

"Just say it," I muttered.

He exhaled loudly, seemingly accepting his fate. "I don't trust her, Thoran. I don't trust people I can't look into. That's mine and Cyrus's job. We can't protect you if we can't do our jobs."

"There is nothing to dig. I already know everything I need to know—"

"What she's told you," he shot back, struggling to keep his voice down. "If there is nothing and she's really just running from some dirt bag husband, I will let it go, but I'm telling you, Thoran. My gut is telling me it's not that simple."

I would have been lying if I said I wasn't curious. I trusted Naya, but I didn't like not knowing what I was up against. I didn't like surprises. If she was in danger, it would find her, and I needed to know what — or who — I was protecting her from.

"Discreetly," I bit out. "Tell no one else."

I could have declared Christmas had come early for the way Vance shot to his feet, hands digging into his pockets for his phone. He was dialing even as he bolted from the bookstore.