Remorse (Rhodes #0.5) by Rina Kent

Arthur’s movements start measured and unhurried. Soon, his hips rotate and he thrusts into me with a frenzied rhythm that translates his passion, his madness. For me. Only me. With every slap of flesh against flesh, I turn into a puddle. I come undone, unravelling into a million threads. My walls clench around him with crippling force.

His back muscles turn rigid. A guttural growl rips from his throat. The pure male sound is music to my ears as he spills inside me. I dig my nails into him, trying to remain afloat, to not drown, although it doesn’t seem like a bad idea to drown in him.

I ran away from this. From the knowledge that Arthur can suck me into him until there’s no way out. I ran away from his darkness, from his overwhelming presence and the fact that he can become everything.

He was beyond what I was ready for, and since he pushed me away, I wasn’t confident enough to stay.

However, running away from him meant I’ve been running away from myself, too. The last three years were a repeated routine. I might’ve been living, but I never felt alive.

Am I ready to stop running? To take an irrevocable step?

Arthur lies on his back and pulls me to his side with a possessive arm around my waist. I’m splayed over his hard chest and thighs. I wrap my leg around his and rest my cheek on the crook of his shoulder.

This level of intimacy was so rare before. He always found a way to pull away. Work. Family. Meetings. It’s probably why we always met during the day – it was more convenient to push me away.

“Are you opening up?” My voice a little above a murmur, and I hate myself for the weakness. I hate that he can make me feel this way.

His fingers glide through my hair, creating a sensual caress. “I figured that’s the only way to make you stay.”

“Why did you push me away when all I wanted was to come close?”

“I was scared.”

The confession strikes a deep chord within me. The low tenor of his voice, the tensing of his muscles, and the way his hand stiffens around my waist tell a lot more than his words.

“I had countless women in my life,” he continues. “They loved me, or they thought they did. For the power, my family name, the looks, or even my coldness and cruelty. Whatever the reason was, they only saw my exterior and decided that was enough.” His voice drops to a shiver-inducing range. “You’re different, Eva. You dug through my defences and saw the real me. The ugliness, the nothingness, and anger. But that didn’t stop you or make you run away. Until it was too much and I finally repulsed you.”

“You never repulsed me and never will, Arthur.” Tears spring to my eyes again, and I wipe them with the back of my hand. “I was also scared. No, scratch that. I was terrified of losing myself to you. But when I started considering it, you kept pushing me away so I surrendered to my fear and fled.”

“Will you…” He trails off. Arthur never trails off. He clears his throat. “Are you going back to New York?”

“I don’t know.”

That fear is still gnawing at me. A man like Arthur is an enigma. He’s a patch of the darkness swirling in his eyes. He’s power. A thrill. A drug. I’ve been addicted to all that, and I need my fix again. However, if I decide to stay, there won’t be any going back.

“Give me time to think,” I close my eyes and inhale his addictive scent.

I missed this embrace. Arthur might be frightening to the rest of the world, but for me, his arms are the safest place to be.





Chapter 4





Arthur’s idea of giving me time to think is not leaving my side for the entire week. He’s been bringing me to his home where we remain in bed for hours. I can see it in his eyes; the fear that I will run away again. That the scenario from three years ago would repeat.

Even if I wanted to leave, I can’t. My father needs me. Which brings me to those blind dates. I can’t even pretend to do them anymore. Arthur ruined me for any other man years ago. I won’t start considering them now.

My gaze drifts to his side profile. He interlinks my fingers in his as we take a walk in the back garden of his family’s estate. The scent of freshly cut grass and exotic flowers, blooming in the distance, surrounds us. We’re approaching the entrance of the Eastern Wing where he resides. A black jaguar statue rests at the base of a knight statue. Its jewelled dark eyes resemble Arthur’s. His family owns real jaguars locked at the far end of this vast estate. They’re a family heirloom and the reason his ancestors earned the title hundreds of centuries ago.

The Rhodes’ title is only the beginning of what they are. Power and old money runs in their blood. They rule the noble community – in which my father is only a small fish.

Each generation’s leader grows the Rhodes family legacy. It’s like suppressing the previous generations is a competition of power that every duke has to undergo. Arthur will be the worst at that. He’s so utterly competitive that even his own father doesn’t get a pass. That’s how the current duke raised his son.

Calculative. Cold. Comtemplative.

In short: he’s The Devil in a suit.

At least to the outside world.

Arthur’s thumb caresses the back of my hand as he tells me about his day at work. These details, work life and the struggles, were always a secret before. But ever since that night at the hotel, Arthur’s been opening up as best as he could. He wants me close, and he figured out that the best way to keep me by his side is to divulge everything.