Sea Haven 02 - Spirit Bound

couldn’t help the sudden flash of temper. There was no way to suppress the surge of anger. “You had my brother tortured. Murdered. Did you think I would love you for that?”
    He shook his head, those dark eyes still boring into hers. “That was his decision alone. My men had orders to let him go the moment he told them where you were. That was all he had to do to gain his freedom and his life. Such a small thing I asked and he refused. I will not have you put his death on me. That was entirely his choice.”
    She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She could see he had no understanding of why she didn’t see his point of view. He considered himself reasonable. Judith shook her head. “You’re not even denying that you had your men torture him.”
    He pointed his finger at her again. “You ran from me. No note, no explanation. You just took off. What did you expect, mon amour , that I would just take something like that lying down?” He stepped closer to her, his breath hot in her face. “You are mine. Mine. You don’t end us. Not ever. That’s not allowed, Judith. I won’t have it.”
    “You were in that room, Jean-Claude. I saw you telling your men to hurt that poor man. He was pleading for mercy . . .”
    “He stole from me. You shouldn’t have seen that. That was not for your eyes. And you should have come to me and told me . . .”
    “I was afraid.”
    “Of me? How could you be afraid of me?” He looked genuinely shocked. “I showed you nothing but love. I was careful with you, always careful. You were so young and I understood that.” He caught her arm and urged her back inside. “I have to remind myself that an innocent like you would have been overwhelmed by what you saw. But you should have come to me.”
    “It isn’t okay to torture and murder someone because they cross you, Jean-Claude.”
    His face darkened with impatience. “You’re coming with me, and this time, mon amour , you will do as you’re told. I’ll have you watched every moment of the day until you realize where your place is.”
    Judith stumbled as he shoved her into the studio. She caught herself on a table’s edge, turning slowly to face him.
    “You’re so predictable,” Jean-Claude said, looking around her studio. “My industrious little Judith, always doing the responsible thing. I knew you’d want to protect those paintings and you’d rush to your little studio to put them all right again.” He shoved one of the canvases. “And of course you did. You never paint without opening the doors and letting in the fresh air. All I had to do was wait. See how well I know you?”
    She winced at the triumph in his voice. She’d certainly done exactly as he predicted. Temper fluttered in her stomach and she pressed a hand there as if somehow that would ward off the flaring rage beginning to bubble like a hot pool of magma. “What did you come here for, Jean-Claude?”
    “What did I come here for?” he repeated, biting out each word through clenched teeth, his smoldering anger beginning to catch fire.
    Judith knew she was the one fanning the flames. Her own anger was rising and feeding right into his, but she didn’t care. She was damned tired of being pushed around emotionally because she had to protect everyone.
    “That’s what I asked you,” she snapped back.
    “I came for you. You’re mine. Did you think prison was going to keep us apart? Did you think it was safe for you to find someone else?”
    She shoved her hair out of her face, glaring at him. “Your little spy was a bit premature with his report to you. And it’s not your business if I see anyone. You killed my brother and I’ll never forgive you for that. Get out of my house.”
    He stepped forward, catching her upper arms to give her a little shake. All the strength she’d mistaken for suave confidence was really something evil lurking beneath the surface. He was a man who felt little emotion. Because her feelings were so strong, hers spilled over to those around her—including him. He wanted those feelings back and felt she was withholding his emotions from him, by not allowing herself to love him. Judith understood now. Jean-Claude was cold and lacked the ability to connect with others.
    As a young woman with no experience, she had admired and loved the man she thought he was—a fantasy she’d conjured up in her head. He had basked in that love and admiration, feeling her projection so strongly, but once she was away from him,