Page 60 of Brutal Heir

My body calmed, but my mind panicked.

I shook my head, unable to speak as I shifted to rise.

Had Sebastian Diamanti really just licked my pussy on an exposed balcony in the middle of Paris?

Just then, a tray rattled, and someone called out.

With a cry, I grasped the edges of my robe to close the front as I made to hop off the table.

Sebastian swept me into his arms first. “There’s broken glass.”

Despite his own bare feet, he walked me a few steps away from the table before setting me down.

Three staff members entered.

Without saying a word, two of them turned and immediately returned with a broom to sweep up the glass.

I buried my head in Sebastian’s shoulder as embarrassment made me seriously consider just jumping off the balcony.

After a few minutes, all traces of what we’d just done were gone.

The table was neatly reset, with several silver cloches covering many dishes. The staff bowed and, without a word, left.

I cast a longing glance at the door leading to the bedroom. “Do you think they brought my clothes back?”

“No. Now sit.”

I wrung my hands, desperate to escape. I’d definitely reached my emotional limit. My nerves stretched so thin they would surely snap.

“Can I at least check?”

He pulled out my chair. “Sabrina, they are not bringing your clothes back. Now do as you’re told. Breakfast is getting cold.”

I marched to stand next to him, clenching my fists at my sides. “What do you mean, they’re not bringing them back?”

CHAPTER 16

SEBASTIAN

She lunged for the doorway.

I got there first.

I wrapped my arm around her middle, lifting her off the floor as I crushed her to my chest.

She fought and clawed, her fury blazing through every desperate movement. Her determination to escape was almost as startling as the heat of her defiance.

To ensure privacy, I carried her into the bedroom, holding her tightly. There, I finally released her.

She flew to the other side of the room.

With a flip of her wild curls, she squared her shoulders and faced me. “I don’t care how rich you are. You can’t just keep me prisoner in your hotel room.”

Without saying a word, I opened the doors to the walk-in closet and retrieved a white dress shirt.

Hooking my finger into the collar, I held it out to her. “Your clothes had to be sent out. The hotel’s simple laundry services couldn’t handle cleaning them. I’ve instructed my staff to bring some fresh clothes for you. They should be here within the hour.”

She leaned forward and snatched the shirt. “Oh.”