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I hide my smile and lean back in my chair, crossing my legs at the ankles and steepling my hands under my chin. “I'm not sure what it is you expect of me, Maricela. But that's not quite the way I remember what happened in the great hall,” I say, baiting her, but curious to see her reaction.
She blushes to the roots of her hair, turning two shades of red, but before I can say any more, she cuts me off. “That was for show only. I know how to read a room, and I know when I'm at risk. Better to pre-empt a situation than be forced to endure it. But it won’t happen a second time.” Her voice is confident, strong, but there’s a tell-tale catch in it when she says, “I’m not a damn prostitute.”
Hmmmm. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
“Oh, I don’t know. I kind of liked having you on your knees before me,” I reply, trying not to smile at the flush creeping up her neck under the force of my gaze.
Her eyes narrow and she gives me a look of pure disdain. “You like getting your cock sucked, is what you mean.”
My grin is all teeth. "Indeed, I do," I agree, sliding my hands down to where my dick is already semi-hard again, just from this interaction, and blatantly adjusting it in my slacks while she watches.
Maricela tears her eyes away and straightens her shoulders. "Then make the most of the memory because it's the only one you'll have." She talks a good talk, but I suspect it's all bravado. I can't help pushing her though.
"Then I'll have to show you how wrong you are."
“I won't give you the chance.” She juts her chin out, and I smile again, that dark side of me suddenly very interested in taming this raven-haired spitfire.
“Won't you?”
“No, I won't,” she says, her coal-dark eyes blazing with fiery determination. “Because I'll make sure you don't get the opportunity to touch me again.”
“You keep telling yourself that, sweetheart,” I say with a laugh, although in truth I want to push her further still. I want answers, but I refuse to be led by the nose, especially by a captive, so I reign in my curiosity as I wonder how to proceed now my meddling sister has dumped Maricela in my own, personal living space. Not what I had planned. Damned girl needs a fella who’s man enough to give her a good spanking and stop her from getting herself into trouble. I swear Róisín will be the death of me with her antics.
I’m saved by a sharp rap on the door of my suite. “Boss,” Liam calls out. “Callum says we’ve got some trouble.”
“On my way,” I respond, pushing to my feet and leaving Maricela to her search for an escape. I’ve got a feeling if I give her half a chance, she might surprise me.
But I’ve never been one to underestimate anyone around me, friend or foe. So I make a mental note to arrange eyes on her at all times.
Chapter Ten
MARICELA
The whole time Ciaran’s in the suite, there’s an odd vibe in the room. Something I can’t quite decipher.
Perhaps it’s because of what’s just occurred… but no. If I’m honest with myself, it's been hanging in the air from the moment he stepped into the Abbey and took me from there.
I’m still dressed in nothing but my wedding underwear and his sister’s jacket, which doesn't so much as cover the curve of my ass, so I’m already feeling at a disadvantage. And the fact that he called me out for my efforts to find whatever weaknesses exist in this building that might aid me in my escape put me more on edge.
But what does he expect? There’s no way I’m ever going to sit around like a good little captive waiting until I get my next set of orders, so fuck him.
I pull the jacket tighter around me, shivering slightly, as he eyes me with that innate intensity of his and systematically picks apart any plans I might have to try and escape. Not that it matters what he says. It’s not going to stop me. If anything, all he’s doing is supplying me with additional information.
I’m just waiting for him to start asking the difficult questions which I know are on the tip of his tongue when there’s a knock on the door, and the driver who trailed me up here calls out to him.
He leaves with a look that telegraphs the conversation I don’t want to have, isn’t finished, and I sigh in relief as the door closes behind him.
Abandoning the windows, I turn my attention to the rest of the room, digging in drawers and cupboards and anything else I can find to snoop in. It doesn’t provide me with anything much, but I do find a stack of t-shirts which, given Ciaran’s stature, fit me like a dress, so I abandon my stockings and garter belt and pull one on, followed by a pair of boxers which I have to roll at the waist, and some dress socks, which are several sizes too big, but who the hell cares as long as I’m covered and unappealing?
I also dig out a sweatshirt, something I can’t imagine the immaculately suited and booted Ciaran wearing, but it’s soft and cozy, and I pull it on for no other reason than it gives me the amorphous feeling of yet another layer of security, though I know, logically, it’s only in my mind.
When the rest of my search shows up nothing more interesting than the type of toothpaste my captor likes to use, I brush my teeth using a brand-new toothbrush I find in a mirrored cabinet on the wall. Then I wash off my wedding makeup, which despite being subtle, I am low-key distraught at finding has streaked down my face, leaving me with panda eyes - undoubtedly from Ciaran choking me with his massive cock.
Finally, running out of things to do, I give up and throw myself on the bed, which is unbelievably comfortable, and snuggle under the sheets.
I won’t fall asleep. It leaves me far too vulnerable. Well, that’s what I tell myself, anyway. But it’s no time at all before my eyes start to feel heavy.
Whilst it’s not late, it’s been an eventful and stressful day… and I’m exhausted despite being well used to stressful days. And although I should probably feel a righteous amount of fear from everything that has occurred, my body has other ideas. The fear of being asleep in the Viper’s presence - something I actively avoided, even if it meant having to stay awake all night - is notably absent. I don’t want to try and analyze what that means.
