Born to be Bad (International Bad Boys Book 3) by Carol Marinelli

forgive, his anger.
    I don’t ask for your love and forgiveness, Roman.
    I pray for them, of course.
    I do ask that you trust, Roman.
    Please.
    Trust yourself.
    Trust in good.
    Trust that I love you so much and always have.
    Ivor xx
    Roman balled the letter into his palm and tossed it.
    He trusted no-one, especially himself tonight.
    When there was a knock at the door, he angrily opened it, assuming it would be Isaak or security, or whoever.
    He never thought it might be Milly.
    “What do you want?” Roman said when he saw that it was her.
    “I wanted to say thank you for what happened down there.”
    “I should have knocked his head off.” Roman shrugged and walked off as Milly came in. He headed to the bedroom and started to get changed, taking off his shirt he opened up his safe and she could see the defined muscles in his back as he pulled on a fresh shirt and pulled out some wads of cash.
    “Well, you’ve said thanks,” Roman said. “Now it’s time for you to go.”
    “I don’t want to.”
    “Oh I think it might be wiser to. You don’t want to know me right now.”
    But she did—her very fleeting sex-life was all but over. Soon her pregnancy would show and she’d be a single mum, plodding through life. Tonight, she wanted to know what it was really like to be with the bad boy, who was going to live in her heart forever.
    “I’m warning you, Milly . . . ”
    “Warning heeded,” Milly said and slipped off her coat, so that she stood only in her stilettoes and underwear. Roman merely rolled his eyes.
    “Am I getting a free one, for what I did downstairs?” Roman sneered. “Because I don’t take charity.”
    “Oh, no, you’ll pay me,” Milly said. “And you’ll pay me well.”
    “You’re no souka ,” Roman said. “Have the guts to admit it.”
    “I’m no souka ,” Milly said.
    “Then, get out. Cos I’m not into making love tonight.”
    “You think that’s what I’m here for?” Milly demanded. “You think I’d be here to be sucked like an olive pit and then spat out. I want to burn, I want to hurt, I want—” Her breath was coming too fast, and she wasn’t acting, she wasn’t pretending, he unleashed her, both the light and the dark.
    He looked down at her nipples sticking out like thistles through the silk of her bra and he could smell the arousal.
    “I don’t want you in my life, Roman,” Milly said. “I just want you tonight.”
    “Go,” Roman said. “Milly, get the hell out.”
    “But I want to be here.”
    “Get on the bed then.”
    She walked to the bed and went to take off her bra but he halted her.
    “I take it off.”
    Milly lay there as he went to the wardrobe and came out with some ties.
    His breathing was angry as he tied one wrist to the bed head and then he took the other wrist and tied it.
    “Undress,” Milly said.
    “You have no say here,” Roman said and he held a tie over her eyes but delivered a final warning. “Get the fuck out . . . we both know you love me . . . ”
    She laughed in his face.
    “Last chance, Milly, stay or leave?”
    “Stay.”
    His jaw was rigid, his eyes were savage and that was the last thing she saw as he tied the silk over her eyes.
    Milly lay there, listening to him undress. She heard the slide of his belt and the sound of his zipper and for a moment she had this most terrible panic for the baby, but then she breathed out, because she trusted him. There at her base, she did.
    Roman came onto the bed.
    She could feel the scratch of his thigh and his erect cock as he sat on her leg and secured her ankles so that her legs were splayed apart.
    It didn’t scare her. Milly had been tied to him and her body had been under his command from the moment they first kissed—that it was physical felt no different really.
    “Scared yet?” Roman asked.
    “Do you want me to pretend that I am?” Milly checked. “Then, yes, Roman. I’m scared. But I’m not though . . . ”
    “Maybe you should be.”
    “Why