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My dad doesn’t answer me. I follow his line of sight to see what he’s studying. It’s a calendar with yesterday’s date circled. As I read the words, I hear nothing but the deafening roar of blood rushing in my ears. In big black letters: Arabella ovulating.
My hand goes to my stomach. My dad turns to look at me, his hand going there too before he storms out of the room. I follow him again back into the living room, where to my horror I see Romeo tied to a chair.
“Wake him up,” my father barks.
One of the men steps up, pulls something out of his pocket and runs it under Romeo’s nose. Romeo jerks awake. Before he’s even opened his eyes fully he’s screaming my name as if he’s in pain.
I go to take a step toward him, drawn to him like a magnet even after seeing what was in the other room.
My father shoots me a hard look, and I stop in my tracks.
Romeo’s eyes fly open and fix on me. He tries to push himself up, but two men hold him down, pushing his shoulders. He fights them for a moment.
“Get her some fucking clothes,” Romeo snaps.
“We need to talk, it seems,” my dad says, ignoring his order.
“Arabella. Our bedroom. Now. I have clothes in the closet for you.” Romeo ignores my dad in return.
I do as he says. I need clothes, after all. I rush down the hall, find the dress, and slip it over my head. I see flats and slide those on, too. I rush back to the living room.
When I get back I see Romeo’s lip is bleeding. He seems unbothered by it, his eyes focusing on me immediately. They go soft for a minute before he returns his attention to my father.
“She’s mine,” he tells him. His words are low and deadly and make a chill break out over my skin.
My dad laughs. “I only woke you to tell you that you’ll never see her again.”
Romeo actually growls. I can see the veins in his neck and arms as he pulls against the ropes around him.
“We all know how much family means to you, Romeo, and I’m going to take the baby you put in her last night and make sure you never lay eyes on either one of them.”
My father grabs me by the arm hard and starts to pull me toward the front door.
“Sir, the stalker office?” one of the men holding down Romeo asks.
“Leave it. It will be a good memory for him to not fuck with me anymore. That he’ll never have them.”
“Arabella!” Romeo bellows my name. “I’m coming for you,” he yells as the door slams shut.
Chapter Five
Romeo
No one noticed the knife I palmed as one of them got close enough to hit me. Carefully I wiggle it behind my back now and cut the ropes that hold me in the chair. Everyone is distracted as Arabella is taken from the room and I hear the men planning what to do with me.
Before they can react, I pop out of the chair and use my years of martial arts training to fight all of them at once and leave them on the ground, moaning, with me standing over them. Not one hair out of place.
The sound of a chopper has my attention and I bust through the emergency exit and up to the rooftop in time to see my love flying through the sky.
“Romeo!” she screams, and I can barely hear her over the noise of the whirring blades.
For a moment I stand there and think about what to do, then I spot a scrap of paper clinging to a nearby piece of metal. I grab it up and read it to see it’s an invitation to a costume party.
“That must be where they’re taking her,” I say to myself, since clearly I’ve defeated everyone else that was a danger to me.
Pulling out my cell phone, which is conveniently still in my pocket, I race down the stairs and to my waiting sports car that is the newest and best on the market.
“Trope here,” I say into the phone when the person on the other end of the line answers.
“Hello, Mr. Trope, how may I help you?” says my older, completely sexually unattractive assistant, Penny.
“Arabella’s been taken from me. I have good information she’s going to attend to the masquerade ball benefiting poor people. I need an invitation and a costume.”
“But Mr. Trope, the ball for poor people is the hardest masquerade to get an invitation to in the whole world.”
“Goddamn it, Penny, don’t give me excuses, give me results.”
“I’ll do my best, Mr. Trope.” I hear a ridiculous amount of computer keys being hit and she gasps. “The Duke of England is said to be attending.”
“I knew it,” I hiss into the phone. No one would let Arabella go. He still wants her. Even if she wasn’t a virgin anymore.
“Be at the gate at nine p.m. sharp. I’ll make sure you’re cleared,” Penny says.
“Thanks. And Penny…” I say, and pause for an unusually long moment for no reason. “Make sure I’m dressed to kill.”
* * *
The drive is long, but it’s nothing I can’t handle to arrive at exactly the right moment. A black box containing a tuxedo and a mask is handed to me as I approach the gate and then I’m buzzed through. Penny did it again. I should give her a raise, but I can’t remember where her office is located.
I change, and blend into the crowd when I approach the front doors. Security is checking invitations, so I slip my hand inside my jacket and present the paper I found near the chopper. For a moment I think he’s going to stop me, but the guard looks it over and allows me to pass.
Glancing back, I catch him speaking into a microphone at his wrist, and I know that can’t be good. I’m already on alert, but I have to have my Arabella back. I won’t allow her to be sold to the Duke of England.
As soon as the thought enters my mind, I see him across the room. My heart lurches in my chest as I spot Arabella behind him. She’s dressed in a strapless dark red ball gown with her blonde hair piled high in curls. She’s got on a gold sequined mask, but I would know her shape anywhere. For a moment I see her lean toward the Duke and I think that she’s here with him. But a closer inspection lets me see that her hands are bound in front of her, hidden from the view of others.
I edge around the room, plotting how to get her back. If I can somehow create a diversion I might stand a chance. Frustration gnaws at me, until I see exactly what I should do.
Dance-off.
I slip the DJ a few bills and go to the center of the room. I reach up and pull my mask off, and the crowd gasps.
“Romeo!” Arabella shouts and tries to come after me.
The Duke of England ties her to his throne and then steps down off the stage until he’s standing in front of me. I widen my stance, ready for the attack.
“I challenge
you to a duel,” I say, and point to the DJ.
The bass begins to thump and the Duke takes his mask off, too, throwing it to the side.
“I accept,” he says, and we begin to circle one another. “Winner takes the girl.”
His smile is dark and I don’t trust him, but I’m in a dance-off for my life and I have to find a way. There are witnesses right now, and as long as I can keep Arabella in my sights, there’s a chance I’ll walk out of here with her.
Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” comes on and we begin. The Duke of England has moves, but mine are better. I didn’t moonwalk my way through the ’80s for nothing. The crowd cheers and Arabella shouts words of love to me.
As the song ends, I’m gasping for air and I’m a sweaty mess, but the crowd is cheering my name.
I jump on stage and untie Arabella’s hands and pull her to my side. I press my lips to hers, kissing her with all that I have. I can’t be separated from her again, and I have to get her out to sea. I need to marry her and bind her to me, and I can’t do that on land.
“How did you find me?” she asks.
I cup her cheek and press my forehead to hers. “Little love, I’m a smooth criminal.”
“Seize them!” the duke yells as hundreds of guards pour in. “If she won’t have me, she won’t have anyone. I’m sentencing them both to death!”
“Can he do that?” Arabella asks as she clings to me.
“Maybe?” I say, looking around.
I don’t have much of a chance, but if what we have between us is real, then we can make it.
“Hold on to me, Arabella,” I say, grabbing the curtain behind her.
She obeys as I lift her up and kick open the window. I stand on the ledge and look back to the guards swarming us. The Duke of England shouts for them to stop us, but it’s too late.
I jump with her in my arms.
Chapter Six
