A shiver wracked her, part cold, part desire as she remembered how he’d bent her over the sofa last night to pump her with ferocious strokes of his thick cock as they looked out over the city’s glittering lights. He’d growled in her ear that he craved her—and that she belonged here with him always.

It wasn’t smart, but her body had flowed with his, her pleasure rolling up to him like the ocean at high tide. And damn it if her heart hadn’t yearned to stop resisting and surrender.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

“Yes.” She always did when she curled up beside him. “You?”

Jason smiled faintly. “A few hours. You know me.”

She did. Mentally restless, he always worked on ways to make money grow or plot some business scheme to his advantage. Gia knew damn well his thoughts were hardly limited to commerce and interest rates. Every day he found some new way to engage her until she felt like the most interesting topic he wrapped his thoughts around. When Jason focused on something, he did it with single-minded fervor, and she couldn’t deny how much she loved being the center of his attention.

If she could experience that every single day, it would be a dream come true. Then again, hadn’t hoping for the fairy-tale ending and ignoring reality landed her in this mess?

Gia averted her gaze. “I can make breakfast this morning. What would you like?”

“No worries. I had a few things delivered. I’ve got fabulous breakfast burritos in the warming drawer and fresh fruit in the fridge. Give me a minute, and I’ll have a surprise, too.”

He never let her lift a finger. The pampering had been nice at first. Now, she felt without direction. Even if she wasn’t staying forever, she had to contribute. “You know, I’m not useless.”

He frowned. “Of course not. You’re very capable.”

“But you see to everything around here. Why won’t you let me pitch in? I cook, Jason. I clean. I do laundry. I can even garden.”

“But you don’t have to. I employ people. Let them do their jobs. You’re here to focus on us.”

“I have. But what’s the point of me having nothing to do? If it’s to take a vacation, believe me, I haven’t slept this much in a year. I haven’t eaten this much ever. I’m ready to be productive again. You’re still conducting business. Since you don’t want me working on my brother’s case, at least let me contribute in some way.”

He sent her a sly grin with a flash of white teeth. “If you think you’re not playing a vital role, let me assure you otherwise.”

“By being available for sex?”

The smile fell off his face, replaced by a chilly warning. “By being my wife.”

Suddenly, his ploy made sense. “You’re trying to show me how you envision every day of our married lives.”

On the one hand, she was more than a little touched. On the other, she couldn’t live this way. Did Jason think that the “job” he paid her for in luxuries and physical pleasure was to be at his carnal beck and call?

He stiffened. “Would that be so terrible?”

“So if we stayed married, you’d insist I hang around and be available whenever you wanted me naked? I wouldn’t do anything vital, like work?”

“I would take care of you in every way. Keep you safe, adored, and—”

“Bored out of my damn mind.” She gaped at him. “I need purpose.”

He stalked closer, eyes narrowed. “You came here exhausted and half starved. If that’s what ‘purpose’ does to you, I won’t tolerate it. I’m not expecting you to do nothing. I understand you’re a determined woman with goals. I know your submissive nature drives you to help others. You’ve given a lot to your family. That’s admirable. But you can’t do it all at your own expense, Gia. Let me help you. Why should you give up food and sleep when I can provide them so easily and let you turn your attention to something else important?”

A half dozen relevant responses raced through her head. Her family wasn’t his responsibility. But they’d already had that argument. She understood his point. They hadn’t been married long, but did the length of time matter? Spouses were supposed to be partners in life. If her mother ever needed help and didn’t tell her father, he’d be very hurt. Fine. Message received.

Naturally, Jason didn’t want her important task to have anything to do with bringing Tony’s killer to justice. Hunting Ricky Wayman down alone and cuffing him would bring her immense satisfaction…but the task was dangerous almost to the point of suicidal. And in the back of her head, Gia worried that even if she could manage to arrest the thug and a grand jury indicted him, the trial wouldn’t see right served. Her brother’s former partner, Patrick, had quickly recanted his statement that pinned the blame for Tony’s murder on Wayman, so she couldn’t rely on the lone eyewitness account to convict him. But last week she’d learned from another friend in the precinct that Patrick had bought a fancy new boat this past spring. She could guess where that money had come from, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth. She’d called Internal Affairs to report the incident, but hadn’t yet heard a thing. Frustration was setting in.

If Jason didn’t see her filling Tony’s shoes again to care for Mila and the kids, and if she accepted that trying to bring Wayman to trial might be exasperating—not to mention risky—where did her husband think that left her? Just a guess, but she figured he would be much happier if she didn’t strap on a badge and gun every day and patrol the streets of South Dallas. Gia had mixed feelings about that.

“I appreciate what you’re saying,” she began. “I just don’t know where that leaves me.”

Jason didn’t answer immediately, and she tensed, watching him open the warming drawer under the oven with a couple of breakfast burritos inside. “Bacon or sausage?”

“Bacon,” she answered automatically.

He grabbed the rolled foil item on the left, then retrieved a plate. As soon as he set her breakfast on the shiny black china, he reached into the refrigerator to pull out a cup of pineapple, bananas, and mandarin oranges. He continually surprised her with her favorite things, and she couldn’t help but be moved, even when she was miffed.

“Take this to the table.” He handed her the plate, then gestured to the breakfast nook.

“I need an answer.”

“Eat. We’ll talk.”

Gia knew damn well that arguing with him when he expected her to fill her belly wouldn’t get her anywhere. Shaking her head, she took her breakfast and plopped down at his table, looking out over the city. He lived in the clouds, her prince occupying his castle in the sky…and she could almost get used to sharing his kingdom every day.

Was she really thinking about staying? The thought was dangerous, but difficult to drown out. How could she do it with so many people relying on her? How did she admit to her family that she’d been married all this time? And how did Jason expect her to fill her days?

Despite all these obstacles, the sense of rightness when she was with him gripped her and never let go.

As she unwrapped the burrito, Gia heard the popping of a cork and turned. Sure enough, he was pouring champagne into a flute and adding a little orange juice.

Her jaw dropped. “A mimosa?”

“It’s one of my mother’s favorites.” He shrugged. “I thought you might like it.”

And he’d arranged this treat because he’d been thinking of her. The whole thing struck her as thoughtful and indulgent, if a little excessive. But he went above and beyond in taking care of her. How could she be angry about that?

Crap, he had her so confused.

As she took her first bite of heavenly warm egg-filled burrito and followed with a spoonful of the luscious fruit, Jason finished mixing the drink and brought it across the room, easing it directly in her hand. Beside her plate, he set a bottle of hot sauce. “Enjoy.”

“I will as soon as you tell me what you see me doing with my next nine days.” Or the rest of my life?

She gulped down half her mimosa, then had to hold in a moan. That tasted really good.

Jason pulled out the chair beside her and sat. Gia had the distinct impression that he collected his thoughts and organized his words.

“I hope you’re willing to simply enjoy our time together, but if you genuinely need something to occupy you, come up with ideas and we’ll discuss them. Do you want children someday?”

The change of subject made her head spin. “Of course.”

He stood again and paced, paralleling the wall of windows along the north side of the kitchen with his long stride. Sharp and controlled, he pivoted to face her again when he reached the counter and ran out of floor.

“I do, too. And I want them with you. Let’s cut to the chase. Tell me what you need to stay with me and make that a reality.”

Gia blinked at him, unable to breathe for a long minute. “You want us to have children together?”

“Yes.”

Nothing in his expression told her what he might be feeling. The only thing she sensed was edginess, a hint of anxiety. He wanted this, probably more than he wished her to know.

She tried not to soften too much. After all, who knew why he’d chosen her to procreate with. So he wanted her. And he’d given her every reason to suspect he cared. But neither of those truths added up to a reason they should create life together.

“I don’t understand. What I need to stay? Um…” She tried to give him a coherent answer, but that proved hard with a nonsensical question.

“You know.” He gestured impatiently. “Tell me what I’ll need to provide in order for you to stay with me. A bigger house, a new car, diamonds, a trip to Paris… Whatever it is, consider it done.”