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I don’t understand this man at all.
He’s holding me here like a prisoner, but he’s concerned about me eating. The many sides of this man have my insides twisted, and it’s a feeling I don’t like at all.
I stand, stomping my foot like a child. At this point, my blood is boiling, and the need to smack him in his gorgeous face is intense. He doesn’t so much as pay a single bit of attention to my tantrum. He’s already out of the room, leaving me to do as he’s commanded.
Well…fuck that.
My stomach gurgles loudly, and all the fight bleeds out of me. I have two options. I can stay here all day and whine about my situation, all the while starving, or I can get myself together, get some food, and plead my case about leaving.
Despite my current feelings toward Gideon, I have to admit that while he might not be a good man, he isn’t all bad either. It’s unsettling, but it’s the truth.
Maybe I can help him see reason. It’s worth a shot.
19
GIDEON
Despite it beingmy plan to keep her close to me, I need to get out of my fucking room. Seeing her in my shirt, verbally sparring with her, watching her squirm in her sleep, as she had a dream I would have loved to be privy to, and then hearing the sounds she made over breakfast, I’m holding on by a thread.
Pushing away from the table, I storm out of the room, instructions in place for the men guarding her.
I can’t risk someone taking her away from me. Not with my obsession in place.
Fuck. What is happening to me?
My shoes hit the marble floor as I walk toward the door that leads downstairs to my security team. I’ve sent texts to my men, but it’s time to meet in person. I’ve been holding it off to stay close to her, but this can’t be pushed off anymore.
Other than the guards who are watching Sasha, everyone is downstairs by the time I hit the last step.
They’re all standing around waiting for me. Typical as of late. I make my way to the table in the center of the large room in which we hold meetings. The chair screeches as I pull it away, echoing through the room like a freight train. “What do we know?” I ask as I take a seat.
“Still no word on what happened to the shipment of drugs, sir.”
Fuck. Of course, my men assume I’m talking about the drugs. They don’t know that the only thing I’ve been able to think about is Sasha.
My dick is leading the show, which is not a good thing.
I shake my head, and Julian lifts a brow.
“Sasha,” I grit out, annoyed I’m going to have to see the look on his face when he realizes that she consumes my every thought.
Just as I suspected, his lip twitches. He wants to laugh. And me? I want to reach across the table and threaten to cut his tongue out of his mouth if he utters a single word.
He knows better.
Julian searches my face and clearly sees the threat because he does the smart thing and schools his features. He doesn’t say anything, simply nods his understanding.
This is why Julian has been one of my most trusted men for years. He knows his place and doesn’t step out of line.
“Do you have anything of substance for me?” My voice booms through the room.
I’m pissed.
The woman has become a liability to me, and I haven’t even fucked her yet. Hell, I haven’t even touched her. Not really.
But I have seen and felt enough to know I want her beneath me. I want her spread open, and then I want to devour her like she’s my own personal banquet.
Once I’ve had her, my head will clear, and I’ll be able to get back to work, tossing her aside like all the rest. She’ll become my ward, as promised, until the dust settles and whoever is after her is dead and no longer a threat.
