I didn’t even realize my eyes were squeezed shut to brace for the impact until I opened my eyes and found Mr. Ralph breathing in my face, eyes dark and heavy. A whimpering squeal escapes my lips from something that feels like fear, dread, and anger all mixed in one. What’s most shocking is the blinker of anticipation, as if I’m looking forward to feeling his lips crush mine when his eyes flit there.
My heart hammers while my chest fills with his scent, and I can barely form a coherent thought while I’m arrested by the smell ofSauvageand its savage wearer pinning my wrists against the wall. I wish my breaths weren’t so shallow, and my chest wasn’t heaving right under his nose.
“Let me go…” I grate out through gritted teeth, my voice as tight as my chest when I suck in a breath.
The man standing in front of me is the man I hate, not worthy of my body’s reaction to him. So close, his hot breath doesn’t just fan my face, but it enters my pores, making it nearly impossible to hang onto a semblance of my sanity.
I must be going insane—as insane as Henry Ralph when he decided to propose marriage to me. Or went as far as kidnapping me and keeping me a prisoner in some cabin in the mountains.
He doesn’t even heed my warning, barely flinching or even batting his eyes—as he always seems to remain unbothered—and the corner of his lips turns up like he’s smirking.
What a cocksure, self-centered, conceited bastard! Is he taking pleasure in me trying to wriggle free of his forceful grip? Is he taking pleasure in kidnapping me?
He’s sick and twisted, deranged.
He finally lets me go, releasing my wrists and holding both hands up like he’s surrendering. I scoff and straighten my spine, dusting my sweaty palms on the nightdress that isn’t mine. I clear my throat before raising my head and meeting his eyes, hiding the effect of how his touch left me feeling tingly in places I’m not willing to admit, and I’m sure I look angry instead of flustered.
“How did I get here? And into this?” I ask bluntly, gesturing to the nightdress.
Henry takes a step back, stroking his chin with one hand as if he’s sizing me up. “I did what I had to do to get you here, Miss Singh. And I didn’t change your clothes. I promise.”
“I don’t believe a thing you have to say, Mr. Ralph. So you can save your promises for—”
“You’re gonna have to start calling me by my first name, Annika,” he purrs, as if he’s trying to be seductive.
My stomach churns, and I fight the urge to throw up. “I don’t care. I just want to go home.”
Henry takes a deep breath, straightens up, and crosses his arms. “That’s not possible, Annika. We are still going through with the marriage.”
I frown, school my face into a straight expression, then frown again when Henry doesn't even blink, staring at me calmly.
“You're forcing me into it? So that means I don't have a choice?”
“You never had a choice,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “There were only two options,” he says as he lifts two fingers. “Eitheryou agreed to it willingly, or you didn't. You chose the latter, so I did what I needed to do.”
“You're crazy.”
“Maybe.”
“A madman. You're insane.”
Henry chuckles, the sound bitterly cold. “It doesn't change what needs to happen here, Annika. We will be married tonight.”
My jaw drops. “T-tonight…?” I stammer, shaking my head slowly in disbelief. “That's impossible. I don'twantto marry you, Mr. Ralph. You can't abduct me and force me into marrying you.”
“I can, and I will. You don't have a choice,” he repeats smoothly, while I'm fuming inside, enraged by what's happening, blowing a couple of fuses because of his calmness about it all.
“Once I get out of here, I'm going to the authorities,” I threaten, lifting a curled fist. “You'll lose the company. You'll lose everything.”
Henry does the unthinkable when he grins and stalks forward, like a predator, his greenish-blue eyes twinkling beneath the veil of his thick brown lashes, head cocked to one side as he comes closer. “You can threaten me all you want, Annika, but once we're married, once I've made you mine,”—he reaches out with a hand toward my cheek, but I recoil, pulling back so he can't touch me—“you will see that this was meant to be. It was fated.”
My face twists when I feel the acrid bile rising in my throat, and I think I throw up a little in my mouth.
“I really think you've lost it, Mr. Henry Ralph.”
While Henry stares at me with a certain curiosity in his twinkling eyes, I'm already plotting an escape plan. My hand is behind my back, searching for the candlestick on the nightstand. I wrap my fingers around the metal like I'm securing a weapon, and hold his gaze long enough that he doesn't suspect that I'm about to fight him.
I'm already fighting myself, my mind battling against my senses that are swarmed with the spiciness and clean masculine scent of his cologne. My fingers tingle with the adrenaline pulsing through my veins as I stand facing my captor, my enemy, the man who demands I marry him.
