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"Let's say your father and I have a different opinion on how to do things."
"Meaning?"
"It involves business. That's all I'm saying, and it's more than I should have admitted."
She takes an anxious breath, then lifts her chin. "Do you promise my father will never know where I am? If I sign the contract."
I grunt. "I thought I made that clear already."
In a firm tone, she orders, "Promise me, Riggs. Swear to me he will never find me here."
"I vow upon my life that he'll never know you're here. I meant it when I told you he doesn't know about this place," I state, having no intention of ever revealing my Malibu house to anyone. Even the driver from the club had to sign a nondisclosure.
She adds, "And you'll protect me from him?"
A sick feeling fills my gut, surprising me.What kind of father does a daughter want protection from?
I nod, making another declaration I mean to keep. "At all costs."
She stares at me for another moment, and I do everything I can to wait her out. I think she's going to cave, but she surprises me again and opens the front door.
My insides tremble. I don't want to lose this opportunity, but I'm also not a beggar. I thought I had her sold on our little deal, but apparently, I don't.
I'll find out where she lives from the club.
One way or another, she's going to be mine.
She steps outside into the dark night.
I watch her walk away from me, frozen and unable to chase her but racking my brain with how to stop her from leaving.
Blakely strolls to the SUV, taps on the driver's window, and waits for him to roll it down. She says something, then steps back.
He reverses out of the driveway, and the hairs on the back of my neck rise. She returns to the house, walks past me, then sits down at the table. She picks up the pen, initials all the pages, and signs the final one. She holds the pen out. "Your turn."
I don't think I've ever worked so hard to maintain my cool. I sit next to her, scribble my initials and signature, then toss the pen on the contract. It makes a loud thud. I lean into her ear and murmur, "Didn't your father teach you to read contracts before you sign them?"
Her lips twitch. "Yeah, he did. I try not to do most of the things he taught me though."
I can't help my growing smile. That's the Blakely I know. Defiant and confident. Fearless in some ways. And I'm going to enjoy every moment of getting into her mind and breaking her until she trusts only me.
She adds, "Besides, you already made it clear."
I'm so fascinated with her I can't remember what she's referring to or tear my eyes off her calm chaos fighting with a brewing storm. I question, "What did I make clear?"
Something dark enters her storm. It broods in a way that sends adrenaline shooting through me. She leans closer, her sea salt and driftwood scent I've tried to erase from my memory but couldn't, floating in the air around us. She traces my skin around the opening of my shirt and states, "You stated that you were going to do to me whatever you felt like at the moment. Is that not true?" She pouts, batting her eyes.
I need to fuck her.
No. She needs to learn what this is about, not what she thinks will happen.
If I fuck her now, there's no going back.
Patience gets rewarded.
She needs to learn who's in charge.
I grab her hands and pin her wrists behind her back so hard, her chest arches into my pecs. Her breath hitches, and shock fills her delicate features.
