He lies on his back, blue eyes staring at a dark patch of the ceiling. Beside him, she's asleep. Or not-he doesn't really care.
He could kill her, right here, right now. He could so easily slit her throat and walk away, leaving no trace that anyone had been here with her. He's got the means, the motive…but not the desire. Not really.
He doesn't love her. Love is for fools with too much time on their hands. He might have been infatuated with her once upon a time, but nothing more than that. But even now, with all his options, he needs her.
Could be the sex, he muses. Even though it's a terrible idea, she's the only person he trusts to tie him to the headboard. Even if she leaves, she'll be back. She always comes back.
Could be sentiment. In a life of constant change, it's nice to have something that stays the same.
Could be the challenge. She never makes things easy for him. Dinner? That's a half-hour massage. Bring him an extra towel? He'll have to catch her first. Sometimes it's not fair. It's entertaining, but it's not fair.
All the same, if it comes down to it, he will not hesitate to strangle her and throw her in the Thames.
THE END