Sinners at the Altar (Page 124)

“Yeah, well maybe I’m not so cool with it.” Not if she’d been hiding things from him. He could take it all if she shared that part of herself honestly with him, but if she hid it—any of it—he wouldn’t be able to live with her not being his and his alone.

“It would be hard for me,” she said, crossing the room to grip his chin and force him to meet her eyes, “but I’d give it all up for you, Jace.”

She licked her lips and softened her hold, touching his cheek gently. He slapped her hand away. He didn’t want her goddamned tenderness. He was too pissed.

Her fingertips pressed hard into his chest. “One of the things I love most about you is that you don’t expect me to be someone I’m not. You allow me to be true to myself, but you’re more a part of me than the thrill I get from serving clients, Jace. I could give them up. I will if I have to. But I can never give you up. Never. The choice is easy. It’s you. It will always be you.”

“I don’t want you to have to choose, Aggie. I want—” What did he want? He wanted to be able to clearly express his feelings to her, to say what was in his heart, but as usual, words failed him, so he turned to face the wall, fighting the urge to punch it.

“What do you want?” Aggie said.

He was so acutely aware of her, the hand she laid on his back seemed to burn through his leather jacket.

And he knew she would push. She always pushed. It drove him fucking insane, but God he loved her for forcing him to face his deepest fears. For knowing that she wouldn’t walk out on him no matter what kind of weird shit he struggled through.

“Tell me about, Starr,” he said. “Don’t leave anything out.”

The hand resting on his back fell away.

“Starr?” she whispered. “How did you find out about Starr?”

Jace felt like the floorboards beneath his feet had vanished. His stomach and heart sank as if he were rapidly descending straight into the yawning chasm of Hell beneath his boots. He let Aggie have her way most of the time because he wanted her to be happy. But not this time. He should have realized that if he allowed her to continue working as a dominatrix that eventually she’d get personal with one of her subs. Have sex with one of them. Fall in love with one of them. Finding out about it the night before they were to get married wasn’t ideal, but he should have seen it coming.

“Jace,” Aggie said, “how did you find out? Did she say something to you? That stupid bitch. I told her I didn’t want you to know.”

Jace spun and grabbed her by both arms. He gave her a shake. “I’m sending her home. And you aren’t going to see her again.”

Aggie stiffened, and her eyes narrowed. “If you think you can dictate my life—”

“I gave you free rein and you abused it, Aggie. I allowed you to keep your slaves, allowed them into my fucking house. But not this. I won’t let you cheat on me.”

“You think I’m cheating on you?”

Did she think he was a complete idiot?

“You just said you didn’t want me to know about your relationship with Starr, Aggie.”

“My past relationship with Starr. Past! It’s been over between us for years. How could you think… Why would I ever…” Her brilliant blue eyes turned glassy with tears. “Jace Seymour!” She stomped on his foot. Hard.

“Ow!” Startled by her unexpected retaliation, he released his hold on her arms, and she spun on her heel—black hair flying out behind her—and stormed off into the bedroom.

He stared after her, trying to process what she’d said. Past relationship with Starr. Okay, he could live with that. He’d misunderstood. But why was Aggie angry and why had she been hiding a past relationship? That made no sense. They were completely open and accepting of everything about each other. At least he’d thought they were on even ground. Perhaps he’d been fooling himself into believing she was as open with him as he was with her. He puzzled over this revelation for a long moment before striding into the bedroom. He wanted the truth out of her, no matter how much it frightened him.

As soon as he passed through the bedroom door, Aggie tossed her thigh-high boots at him. He caught them against his chest and gaped at her.

“You will dress me before I punish you,” she snarled at him.

Yes, please. But not if her lashes were motivated by anger. She was the one who’d taught him the difference, after all. He craved her punishment, but wouldn’t tolerate abuse.

“Why are you pissed?” he asked, dropping her boots on the floor and moving toward her.

She yanked a cat o’ nine tails from his open suitcase and lifted her arm over her head.

“Do not hit me out of anger,” he said calmly.

Her grip went slack, and the whip clattered to the floor behind her. She slapped her hand over her mouth, her breathing erratic, eyes swimming with tears. That’s when he realized she wasn’t angry, she was hurt. Shouldn’t he be the one hurt? She’d been hiding things from him. It didn’t matter who should be hurting the most. Not when she looked so upset. No stranger to pain—emotional or physical—Jace was willing to endure any agony, but he couldn’t stand seeing it in her.

“Aggie, just tell me. Do you still have feelings for her?”

“No,” she said, her hasty reply muffled by her hand. She dropped it and took him by the arm, giving him a hard shake. “Of course not. I have feelings only for you.”

“Then why have you been hiding this relationship with Starr from me?”