“You’re my property,” he said quietly. “I’m the only one who can punish you. Just like a child, only the parent should spank him. Now get your ass up, or I’ll drag you back to the house by your hair. What’s it gonna be?”
I knew Crewe wasn’t bluffing this time. He had no problem backhanding me or gripping me by the neck. There were certain lines he wouldn’t cross, but there were plenty that he would. I got to my feet and cleared my throat, still feeling the sting from Dunbar’s icy grip.
Crewe stepped away, satisfied with my obedience. “Finley will make you some tea.”
I crossed my arms over my chest as I walked beside him. “Why do you want me back at the house?”
“We’re leaving for Glasgow. I have business to attend to.”
I stopped in my tracks. “I’m going with you?”
“Yes.”
I was getting off this island. Once we were in Scotland, I could make a run for it. There had to be an embassy or police station that could help me. Even if I were in another country, I was still kidnapped and they were required to help me.
Crewe read the expression in my eyes. “You aren’t getting away, Lovely. You can try. But keep this in mind. If you fail, there will be serious consequences.” He stared me down with his mocha-colored eyes, the threat heavy in his voice. “I won’t tell you what they are. I’ll let your imagination do the work.”
My arms tightened around my body, a cold shiver running down my spine. Despite the tone in his voice, my mind was still made up. If I didn’t run for it when I had the chance, I would regret it for the rest of my life. Even if he beat me bloody, it would still be worth it.
I just had to be smart about it—and run like hell.
Crewe continued walking, his suit framing his muscular body. Now that I’d seen him naked, I knew what was underneath that tailored suit. He was ripped with muscle, a lean and toned frame that my fingernails enjoyed digging into. My feelings for him were so contradictory. I was still attracted to him, got wet for him, but I despised him at the same time.
How was that even possible?
We entered the house, and I spotted the bags by the door.
“I packed enough things for you for a few days,” Finley said. “Dunbar will bring you more clothes in Glasgow if you need them.”
“Thanks, Finley.” He was the only person in this house that made me smile.
“Finley,” Crewe said in his authoritative tone. “Make Lady London some tea with lemon, please. She has a sore throat.”
“Of course,” Finley said. “Milk?”
“Just black,” Crewe said, remembering how I take my coffee.
Finley got to work in the kitchen while Dunbar grabbed the bags and carried everything to the black chopper. Crewe’s phone rang, so he stepped into the living room to take the call, speaking quietly so no one would overhear him.
Finley handed me a plastic cup with a lid. “Here you are.”
“Thank you.” I felt the heat through the cup and knew it was too hot to drink.
Finley checked to see that Crewe was still in the other room before he whispered, “Mr. Donoghue is not exactly what he seems. Life hasn’t always been on his side.”
I stared at Finley and forgot about the tea in my hands. “What does that mean?”
Finley had a guilty look on his face, as if he knew he’d said too much. “He had a hard life, Lady London. He has a lot of vendettas, a lot of bitterness. He tries to convince himself he’s just as evil as his enemies…but he never is. He has a lot of compassion that he tries to hide.”
“What happened to him—” I fell quiet when Crewe walked back into the room, no longer on the phone. I tried to cover up our conversation so it wouldn’t be obvious we were just talking about him. “Thank you for the tea.”
“Of course, Lady London.” Finley gave a swift bow before he walked away.
Crewe came to my side, displeasure written all over his face. He suddenly grabbed my wrist, his hands squeezing me with authority. He didn’t grab me the way Dunbar did, with pure violence. He led me outside toward the chopper. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.” He stopped walking and pulled me harder into his chest. His hand never left my wrist and his face was close enough for a kiss. “Do you understand me?”
I didn’t correct him and tell him that Finley mentioned his past first, because I didn’t want that sweet old man to face Crewe’s wrath. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to know more about the man who stole me.”
His hand moved to my neck, and his lips were practically on mine.