Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“I am pretty sure forcing love like that is called Stockholm syndrome,” she said offhandedly, and I had to bite back a laugh. She was a constant surprise.
“Are you saying the only way a woman could want me is through Stockholm syndrome?”
She looked me up and down, her eyes lingering on my cock beneath my robe, making it harden under her gaze.
“Not the only way, but you seem to enjoy kidnapping women and holding them against their will. So it seems the most likely.”
I narrowed my eyes at her, pressing my lips in a stern grimace to suppress the smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. “Keep it up, little girl, and I am going to give you something to do with those lips, and then your food is going to get cold.”
She gave a small gasp, and I didn’t miss the way her thighs pressed together. But instead of backing down, she met my gaze with open defiance.
“So you’re saying you’re in the mafia?” she said, changing the subject.
The way she said mafia and looked at me without surprise or even fear was unsettling and highly suspicious. As if she said something as mundane as “so you're an accountant?”
“How much of this do you already know?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and looking down at her.
She should have been scared of me. She should’ve been freaking out or trying to figure out how to escape. Instead, she was setting down the lobster fettuccine and looking under the silver dome of another plate.
“You should try this. It’s fantastic.” She motioned toward the pasta.
“No thank you, I eat for fuel, not pleasure.”
“I have never heard a more depressing statement in my entire life,” Marina said, looking at me.
Immediately suspicious at her casual tone, I exhaled sharply and narrowed my gaze. “You haven’t answered my question. How much of this do you already know?”
“Take a bite of the pasta, tell me what you really think, and then I’ll tell you what I know.” She lifted her eyebrow in a challenge.
“I think that it’s too many calories with not enough nutrients to be satisfying in any real way.”
She arched her eyebrow at me and lifted the fork in offering. I didn’t know if she was daring me to try the pasta or playing chicken, wanting to know who would break first.
I was going to have fun breaking her later, but for now, I needed answers. I rolled my eyes, but I sat down next to her, grabbing the fork from her outstretched hand. I intended to take one quick bite, just enough to appease her so she would answer me.
She wasn’t satisfied. She stole the fork back, twirled another bite, and held it up. “No, not like that. A real bite.”
Just to make her happy, and to get some answers without another fight, I leaned in and took it straight from the fork.
The moment the flavors exploded on my tongue, I groaned, and Marina laughed softly. “Good, huh?”
Her laughter was light, teasing, but beneath it, the tension thickened, heavy with something unspoken. She held the fork out again, and I caught her wrist, holding her there. Her breath stuttered.
I let my thumb brush against the inside of her wrist, feeling the rapid pulse beneath her skin. “You enjoy bending me to your whims, don’t you?”
She smiled, but there was a hitch in it, as if she was suddenly aware of just how close we were.
I leaned in, lowering my voice. “Careful, Marina. You keep playing with fire, you’re going to get burned.”
Her breath shuddered out, but she didn’t move away. Instead, she lifted the fork once more, this time deliberately sliding the bite into my mouth, lingering just a second too long.
I arched a brow. “Are you prepared for the consequences, babygirl?”
Averting her gaze, she lifted another silver dome to reveal a baked potato that was loaded with bacon, cheddar cheese and broccoli. “Try this next.”
“Answer the question.”
Ignoring my request, she said, “Veronika didn’t tell me everything, but she told me that her family was in the same kind of business as yours, and that she didn’t have a choice. I’m not stupid. It didn’t take me long to put it together. As far as I know, the only businesses that still seal contracts with marriages are on the less reputable side of the law.”
“It doesn’t bother you?” I asked, stabbing into the potato and watching as a river of melted cheese seeped from where I had cut into it.
Marina sat back, a plate of chicken in a sun-dried tomato and cream sauce on a bed of mashed potatoes on her lap. She took a bite of the chicken, and her eyes closed as her lips twisted into an indulgent smile.
I couldn’t help it, I needed to know what made her look that blissed out. I snuck my fork over her plate and stabbed a piece of the chicken with some of the tomato and even ran it through the sauce and potatoes before bringing it to my own lips.