Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
I leaned my head back on the headrest, taking a deep breath. I was so terrified, but I couldn’t fight this. I didn’t know where I was going or what was going to happen. I couldn’t see anything and I couldn’t scream. I lay, slumped against the seat, my heart pounding for I don’t know how many hours until I heard the car engine turn off.
A few moments later, we were no longer in the car. My legs dangled as the man carried me. The blanket was still on me shielding me from the chilly night, carefully wrapped around my curvy form.
This kidnaper was a gentleman. I’ll give him that.
From the way he held me, my face unintentionally brushed against his. His stubble prickled my lips softly and his breath smelled minty and fresh. Racing like a drum, my heart pounded. Who was this man, and why was I strangely attracted?
Stop it, the voice in my head hissed. You can’t feel this way. This guy is a criminal for crying out loud.
After all, what was wrong with me? This man had broken into my dorm room, snatched me out of bed, and taken me to an unknown location. But leave it to me to notice his spearmint fresh breath and well-chiseled physique.
A rush of warmth ran through my frame, my breath coming fast. And yet, I couldn’t get it stop. Willing my traitorous body into submission did nothing. Instead, the limbs continued to tremble, but from excitement with only a tinge of fear.
Oh god, why was this happening? There was a plausible reason for all of this. If I was going to be in any real harm, my captor wouldn’t have been worried about keeping me warm.
Once inside wherever we were, I sensed he was taking me upstairs. I was a big girl, but he seemed to be carting me around with such ease. My mind wandered as I began to relax in his strong capable arms. Who was this man? A body builder, a firefighter, Superman even?
When he set me down on a soft comfy couch, the man finally removed my blindfold. I blinked slowly, letting my eyes adjust to the light. When my vision was no longer blurred, I saw that I was in someone’s fancy home office.
From the large ceiling to floor windows, the sky was still dark outside. I wondered what time it was. Wherever I was, it was swanky and sumptuously furnished. It was a relief to not be in an abandoned warehouse or some other terrifyingly sketchy locale.
From behind me, my captor said, “I’m going to take the gag out. I just want to chat.” I strained to turn around to see his face, but it was impossible to get a good look. He pulled the gag out of my mouth, which was dry and cottony. I hacked a bit, coughing spastically while bending over.
“Where am I?” came my hoarse gasp. “What’s going on? You can’t do this!”
But the man ignored me, turning so that he was in shadow again. Who was this mysterious man, the plane of his cheek as sharp as a razor? I could glimpse sculpted cheekbones and a quirk to that mobile mouth.
“You’re nowhere,” his deep voice sounded. “Take it easy.”
“Take it easy?” I managed in a choked cry. “You just kidnapped me. How am I supposed to take it easy?”
A black brow quirked in the shadows.
“Well, you’re still alive,” he drawled. “That should be reassuring.”
This guy had a lot of gall. He expected me to thank him for not committing murder? What a cocky bastard.
I tried to get a better look at the man, but he was already moving around the couch to face me. As he took a seat in an armchair across the way, he removed his dark baseball cap.
I gasped then, unable to believe my eyes.
It was Theo White of Pictogram. The CEO himself. The guy whose naked pics I’d posted all over the site.
A scream, from either shock or embarrassment, flew out of my mouth. On impulse, I leaped up as if stung by a bee.
Theo quickly seized my form and pushed me back down on the couch. The contact made me swoon. His hands under my legs and around my back sent charges of electricity rushing through my frame, limbs going weak all over.
“Oh,” came my whispered murmur. “You.”
A black brow quirked again.
“Yes, me,” he said dryly. “Did you expect this?”
“No,” I said. “I don’t expect to be kidnapped. No one does. Are you joking?”
Dark blue eyes took me in.
“I don’t know what to think when it comes to you,” he growled, brows lowering. “No one exactly does what you did.”
My reply was immediate. “No one does exactly what you did either, what with selling my photo to Mark Janow. Why did you do that? How could you?”