“What does that mean?” she asks.
“Beautiful,” I whisper.
“No one has ever called me that before, besides my parents.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“You shouldn’t. Where else are you taking me?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Can I call my parents?” she asks, sounding hopeful.
“No, lass. You can’t.”
“Will I ever see them or my sister again?”
“Yes. I’m not a monster. Well, I am a monster, you won’t know that.”
“What’s all this about?” she asks.
“I want you.”
“You could have asked.”
“You could have said no had I asked.”
“I wouldn’t have,” she whispers.
“It’s a moot point now.”
“Why?”
“You’ve vanished without a trace, and I intend to keep it that way until I deem it time to resurface.”
“That sounds ominous,” she says, standing up. I hear her stomach grumble.
“I should probably feed my captive, shouldn’t I?”
“I could eat,” she says.
“Will you be a good girl?”
“I’m always a good girl.”
“I bet you are,” I tell her. I take her hand and lead her out of the cell and back out to the car, this time letting her sit in the passenger seat. I have a house nearby and I think I’ll get everything I want from there. Before taking off, I text Cillian and let him know about Elisia Popov. She may be no relation, but we can’t take that chance.
“Mr. O’Brien?” she asks after I lean over and buckle her seatbelt. Her hands are still zip-tied. I am sure it’s cutting into her wrists, but I don’t completely trust her not to scratch my eyes out.
“Call me Sean,” I reply.
“Okay, Sean. Just so you know, I would have said yes,” she says, then stares out the windshield. She doesn’t say another word the rest of the ride to the house. All I can do is mull over what she said.
I was right being the boss is good for something more. I wanted her and I got her. I might be relaxing the terms, but she’s still my captive. I’ll do everything in my power to keep her under my thumb and in my bed.
FOUR
LORIELLE
I feel like I’m on fire. I should be mad, upset, scared, any number of adjectives, that he took me, but I can’t be. I’m glad that it was him, my giant, who took me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s wrong, on so many levels, but I want him too. I want him to know that I want this. That taking me was the right thing to do. I knew waiting for the perfect man would come in handy. I don’t have anything tangible to give him, but he can have my cherry. It’s ripe and ready for him. Despite the boldness of kidnapping me, I don’t think he has it in him to just take it from me.
Ten minutes later, we pull into the garage of a townhouse. He turns the car off and closes the door. When we walk inside, I find a tastefully decorated house. I’m surprised by it really. I expected wood and leather. Instead, it’s bright and airy. It feels like a woman’s touch, and I’m irrationally jealous about that.
“This is your house?” I ask, lifting a throw pillow up off of the sofa.
“Yes.”
“Is your wife out of town?” I ask, running my fingers along the back of the house. It smells like flowers and clean linen.
“N-No. I’m not married.” There’s his adorable stutter again. I have to wonder if I bring it out in him.
“Girlfriend?”
“No. I don’t have a girlfriend. I’m a grown-ass man. Girlfriends are for boys.”
“Oh. I see,” I say, stifling a smile. “A mistress then?”
“No. Why are you asking me this?”
“A woman decorated this house for you. I just wondered if she knew I was here.”
“My mother decorated this house. Do you really think I’d go through all this trouble if I had a woman?” he demands, stalking closer to me.
“I really wouldn’t know. I don’t know you well enough. I know about mobsters and their girl in every port lifestyle.”
“I’m not a fucking sailor, Lorielle. You will get to know me and then you’ll understand that I would never do that. You are more than enough for a man like me,” he replies, and then his lips are on mine. I could never have been fully prepared for the onslaught of emotions that was over me. I tried to move my arms in order to wrap them around him, but I can’t. I cry out in pain as I realize my hands are still bound in front of me. How could I have forgotten that?
“What does that mean?” I ask as he pulls a knife out of his pocket and slices the cable tie off my wrists. I rub the circulation back into them. I want to touch him. I want to soothe whatever that haunted look behind his eyes is. This isn’t normal. I should be trying to get free of him, instead, I want to be closer to him.