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“You were given enough to do the research on him.”
“I refuse to reduce myself to Googling my future husband.” My irritation leaps, and I don’t miss the wave of annoyance that radiates from Kristo beside me. I wonder if he feels that he was duped into kissing me, touching me, pressing me up against a tree in the center of a park and doing things to my body that still have me reeling, but I can’t worry about that right now. In fact, it’s probably a good thing he’ll be on his way shortly. He’s far too distracting when I should be focusing on my next escape plan. “I’ll agree to meet with my potential husband, of course. Absolutely. And if we should suit, then I will be happy to honor my obligations, Uncle Falcone. But if we don’t…well, I cannot imagine you of all people would condemn me to a loveless marriage.”
Uncle Falcone smiles, but the expression doesn’t reach his eyes. “I would never force you to do anything, beautiful Iris. You will choose what is right in the end, and with a joyful heart.”
His words have the ring of finality to them, and a chill skates down my spine. I have to get away from here! I have to escape, to get some space, clear my head. I need more time!
But Uncle Falcone continues. “He will be arriving tomorrow evening. If all goes well, you two will announce your engagement at a small get-together I’ve arranged. Until then, Kristo will serve as your bodyguard.”
“My what?” I can’t help it, my mouth drops open as again Kristo shifts beside me, the only indication that the news has come as a surprise to him as well. No, no, no. This is no good! I will never be able to slip out of this fortress of a house with Kristo shadowing me. “Uncle Falcone, I’ve safely arrived. I’m sure you have plenty of staff on hand to see to my needs, and I’ll be perfectly protected in this home. I don’t need a babysitter.”
Another shift beside me, so subtle I’m only aware of it because of my hypersensitivity to Kristo’s every tremor, indicates he’s not a fan of my characterization. Well, too bad.
“This isn’t a negotiation,” my great uncle retorts, his words once again final. “Kristo will keep you safe until we can introduce you to your intended, whom I know will convince you of all the ways this marriage will make you happy.”
“But—”
“The subject is closed. Kristo will take you to your rooms.”
Anger flares within me, and I know myself well enough not to trust what I might say next. Instead I whirl on my expensive sandals, and fix one of the guards at the door with my gaze—a female guard.
“I’m sure you know where my bedroom is,” I snap. “You can take me there.”
As I storm out of my uncle’s presence, my mind is churning. Kristo has my backpack—which has my phone, my purse, my money. He’ll assume—they’ll both assume—I won’t make a move without any of those.
But they’re wrong. They’re so wrong. I stride down the hallway behind the female guard, my sandals furiously clicking on the marble floors. Every single outfit I own—including this shift—has carefully sewn pockets lined with cash. With cash, I can get a phone. With a phone, I can log into my private accounts. And with those…the world is my playground.
I’m so out of here.
