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She narrows her eyes at me. “Why not? I signed an NDA.”
Is she joking? Does she not know from her research that we don’t allow people to prance in and out of our lives?
“You know too much,” I say. “You know locations, names, the layout of the island. We must keep our eyes on you. Forever. You’ll work for us. Live where we tell you. Your life is ours now. Not to mention the fact that people within the family aren’t too pleased with you.”
Her new reality settles in around her.
“No,” she says, shaking her head, looking at me incredulously. “No. That’s not happening.”
“Yes,” I say. “It is.”
“No. No way.” She just sits there staring at me.
I’m getting more and more angry. I feel the heat building in my blood. How dare she? Fall into my life like this, then try to tell me how it’s going to be?
“You did this to yourself,” I say.
Finally, she stands. She moves toward me, her own face flushed with what looks like fury. Her eyes flash, reflecting my own anger back at me. She looks like she wants to point her finger at me or slap me. Her manners prevent her from doing so, and she grabs her hip, trying to control her emotions as she speaks.
Her tone takes me off guard. It’s low, serious. “You don’t have the right to dictate my life. To tell me where I will live. Who I will work for. Who,” she pauses to gain her composure, her voice rising higher and higher. “I will be.”
She’s now only an arm’s reach away. I don’t want to hear her words anymore. “I’m not the one who thought it would be a good idea to crash someone’s life. Who boarded that plane. Who went where I wasn’t wanted.”
She gapes at me a beat, then scoffs. She tosses my words back at me. “Where I’m not wanted.”
The sentence hangs between us. The tension between us is palpable. The heat between us, undeniable.
One reach, one grab, one kiss—would close the gap between us. We stand there, staring at one another, neither of us moving. She doesn’t want this life. This obsession has to end.
Tonight.
“Pack your bags,” I say. “We leave at six a.m. sharp.”
I turn to leave the room.
She grabs my arm. “No. You’re going to stand here and you’re going to listen to me and we’re going to work this out. You’re not going to tell me what to do and when to do it.”
I look down at her grip on my arm then lift my gaze up to meet hers, but my eyes don’t make it that far, getting caught on the sight of her full, pouty mouth. “Let go of me.”
Her lips move, sassy and sexy as she speaks. “You’re so comfortable putting your hands on people. Why shouldn’t I—”
I can’t listen to her talk anymore. I grab her wrist, ripping it from my arm and pinning it to my chest. My other hand glides up the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. My palm circles her neck, my thumb trails down her throat, till it rests in that sexy dip at the base.
I grip her neck, squeeze her wrist. Stare at those full, blush lips. Leaning down, I close my mouth on hers, kissing her hard. She goes still, frozen in my arms. Her fingers splay across my chest, fingertips digging into my flesh. I take the small motion as an invitation to kiss her deeper, forcing my tongue past her lips, tasting her.
She tastes so sweet, denial mixed with desire. I need more. I need to taste all of her.
seventeen
Lindy
Ishould be pushing him away. At least pulling my wrist from his grasp, unlocking my lips from his.
But my God…
The way this man kisses.
I freeze, my hand on his chest my only movement, the promise of what he can do to my body made evident as he swipes his tongue against mine. My core aches, my pussy clenches, hungry for him. My body has been wanting him, missing him, ever since that first night on the jet. I need him inside me. I’ve needed it for seven solid days now.
