“Eija, women like you aren’t mistresses.” He kissed her neck. “Women who look like you, smell like you, sound like you, whose skin radiates like yours…you aren’t mistresses.” His lips grazed her shoulder. “You’re wives. Queens. Conquerors.” He nipped the tops of her breasts. “If you’re going to be in my life, it won’t be behind a curtain or creeping with me in the shadows. It’ll be right next to me for the world to see.”
