Cardinal Sins by Charlotte House

Author:Charlotte House [House, Charlotte]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-26T00:00:00+00:00

FOURTEEN

Ben could have gotten you killed. You’re in danger. This is why we don’t have women in the house. No friends. No family.

Pope had been a dick, but Gabriel had pissed her off. He’d just stood in the corner, slinking into the shadows. He had no right. He wasn’t allowed to care about her safety when he had ignored her the last few weeks. She was also disgusted with herself that she had briefly wondered about his date. Was she in his bed? Had he fucked her?

All those thoughts drunkenly rolled around her skull as she watched Ben defend their actions. The liquor and greasy food bloated her stomach, and there was a startlingly sticky ache between her legs from riding Ben in public. Despite everything she’d said, she felt a tug of guilt at the act. She didn’t owe them anything, and yet⁠—

It didn’t matter. It was done.

Will’s anger had shocked her—she’d never seen him irate. Even in the basement, he had doled out pain with an impassive expression. He spoke softly and slowly, without a drop of emotion, but after George’s, he had been enraged. It had bothered her, the disappointment in his glower the same consistency as oil sticking to her limbs.

“I don’t fuck around when it comes to your safety.”

Those words had ripped through her with the wild intensity of a tornado. She followed Ben up the stairs, flinching when she heard Will slam his door shut.

“He’s throwing a hissy fit,” Ben muttered under his breath.

Was he? He seemed truly guilt-ridden over what had happened in the basement. Maybe he cared about her? Her mother certainly hadn’t. She could have run away from home for three days, and her mother would have greeted her with: Could you make me a drink?

The concept of care had become foreign to Zara.

Pope had pissed her off with those big, dark eyes and that permanent scowl. She didn’t connect with him as she did with Will or even Gabriel. No, Pope existed as her keeper, the man who was pulling the strings through this whole nightmare, and he’d never attempted to get to know her.

She helped Ben to bed, and when he tried to drag her beneath the covers, she stopped him. She wasn’t sure why. She felt off-kilter. She needed to be alone and get her head on straight, because whatever had happened downstairs had been messy.

She wanted to sulk in the comfort of her room, where none of them could judge her. She was out the second her head hit the pillow, slipping into a restless sleep as the sequins on her dress pricked her flesh.

Hours later, she was awoken by the warm pressure of lips at the nape of her neck, the smell of soap and damp skin. It was mid-afternoon, and light filtered through her drapes, flooding her white linen duvet with gold.

“They’re out,” a low voice rumbled at her back. Ben. She arched into him, and he wrapped his fingers around her throat, wrenching her against his chest.

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