Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 135378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
That’s a startling realization. I’ve never woken up to a man’s arms locked around me before.
My eyes open a bit reluctantly. I don’t want to leave the blissful warmth of oblivion, and the moment my eyes open to a room I’ve never seen before, the reality of my situation crashes down on me.
Last night, Silvan sorta kidnapped me.
I think I left my purse in the bathroom. Maybe if I could roll out of bed without waking him up, I could go get it. My phone’s inside. I don’t think I want to tell anyone something as dramatic as “I’ve been kidnapped” because I’m truly not out to get Silvan in trouble, but I don’t want to be kept here against my will either. I want to go home.
I could text my mom or Kendra and ask them to pick me up. Kendra already knows where he lives, so it would probably be easy for her to come get me.
The house is huge. Surely if I’m careful, I could sneak out the front door without anyone even noticing.
I shift in his arms, trying to move gently so as not to wake him. It seems like it should be easy since he’s sleeping, but his arms don’t budge. A frown flickers across my face as I try again and his grip on my waist tightens.
Eyes wide, I turn my head to look back at him over my shoulder and find him looking much like a sleepy Viking with a smirk on his handsome, fully awake face. “Where do you think you’re going?”
My cheeks warm at the sensation of being caught doing something I’m not supposed to—even though I could argue escaping my kidnapper is something I am very much supposed to do.
He’s too crazy to agree with me.
“I have to pee,” I say instead.
“Oh yeah?” he murmurs, sounding somehow unconvinced even though that’s a perfectly natural thing to need to do after a long night’s sleep. One hand slides up from my waist. He cups my tit, squeezing softly before his blunt fingertip passes over my nipple. “You’re sure you’re not just hoping to make a phone call on the cell phone you left in there last night?”
“Of course not,” I answer.
“Mm-hmm,” he murmurs, less convinced than before.
“That you would assume that just proves you’re a psychopath,” I state primly. “I was going to text.”
He laughs, giving me a squeeze and kissing my exposed shoulder. “I’m not a psychopath,” he assures me.
“You’re awfully comfortable with kidnapping for someone who isn’t a psychopath.”
“I’m a man in love,” he states. “Haven’t you heard? All’s fair in love and war.”
“Well, you may be in love, but I’m at war, so does that mean I can play dirty, too?”
“Sure,” he says far too easily. “As long as you’re prepared for the consequences when you lose.” He lets that threat hang in the air for a moment, then nuzzles his handsome face into my neck. “Personally, I’d much prefer we be on the same team than at war with each other.”
“You say that, but what you mean is you want me to concede to all your wants and desires and just abandon my team for yours.”
“There’s only a ‘your’ team and ‘my’ team because you’re still resisting. Stop that and then it’s our team and we do what’s best for both of us.”
“But I don’t get a choice whether or not I want to be on the team.”
“Correct. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me. You should learn to live with it.”
I shake my head. “Then it’s not a team. You have to agree to be on a team.”
“I think you’ll find your contract extremely generous. My father will insist on a prenup, but it’s a formality, and I’ll include terms you’d find acceptable so you know I’m not trying to screw you over.”
My heart jumps, and I look back at him. “Do you hear yourself? Prenup?”
“My future inheritance is too much to marry without one. Like I said, it’s just a formality. More for your protection than mine. If I told my father to fuck off with the prenup, I’d be worried he might take things into his own hands if he saw any turbulence in our relationship. It’s a risk I can’t take.”
I can’t believe he’s talking about our marriage as if it’s a foregone conclusion.
“I’m not going to marry you.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You didn’t think you were going to go out with me, either, and now here you are, my girlfriend.”
My eyes widen. “Because you blackmailed me and forced orgasms on me until I agreed!”
He shrugs. “Still counts.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Crazy in love.” He grins and kisses my cheek, then he lets me go and smacks my ass. “Go pee if you need to, but don’t bother with the text.” He rolls over, grabbing his phone off the nightstand on his side. “Breakfast will be served here in the next ten minutes, so we should probably go downstairs. You want a robe or an outfit?”