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“Going somewhere, princess?” he asked, the question laced with a growl. I heard another voice, another amused laugh.
“Somehow, your shirt looks better on her than it does on you, Arman.”
It was the voice of the man I’d also heard inside Arman’s room. I backed away, uncertain what I could say. Then I turned and sprinted toward what I prayed to God was the street, dropping my heels in the process.
I was scooped up within seconds, tossed over Arman’s shoulder. Now I let off a high-pitched scream, pummeling my fists against his back. “Let me go! Please. Just let me go.”
“Now she asks nicely,” Arman grumbled. “No more demands, princess?”
When he swatted me on the bottom, I groaned, his touch somehow more intimate than before. “Please.” I was out of pleadings and excuses. I just wanted to live.
“I’ll head back to the party now that you have this under control,” Maddox said, his tone still full of amusement.
“As I said, ensure Zoe is accounted for.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll handle her. Besides, you have your hands full.” He continued chuckling as he walked away.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked as I struggled to see where he was headed.
“Back to my room. For now.”
Instead of dragging me in front of the hired help or the guests, he headed to another door, one that was completely secure. I noticed the pad next to the door seconds before he placed his hand on the surface. Jesus. He had a private entrance. Of course he did.
He started humming as he walked up several sets of stairs, acting as if he had all the time in the world. When he reached a landing, he had two doors to choose from. I had to wonder where the second one led. The first went directly into his bedroom and into the closet. How had I not noticed? Because it was located behind a shelving unit holding several pairs of his shoes. Jesus. If I’d only found it before.
What a shame I wasn’t a career criminal and hadn’t thought of looking for a hidden door.
He popped into his room then tossed me into the center of the bed where he remained standing over me. As he peered down, his expression stern, he shook his head. Then he rubbed his hand across the slight scruff of his beard.
“Are you nervous, princess?”
His tone was menacing, yet still sensual. Nervous couldn’t begin to describe what I was feeling from the surreal night. This was a horrible nightmare that I feared I’d never wake up from.
“Should I be? Is that a warning?”
He did as he’d done before, removing his jacket oh-so carefully. Then his holster, giving me a chastising look when I stared at the weapon longingly.
“Don’t even think about it, Raven. I’m not the kind of man who’s known for having patience. You’ve tested me more than once. Although I will give you credit for your ability to free yourself from the handcuffs.”
At that moment, he noticed the items from the nightstand drawer that I’d dumped on top. Then his expression shifted from amusement to fury, the look on his face more terrifying than any he’d given so far. He took a single stride toward it, jerking open the drawer. As soon as he pulled out the picture frame, I sensed his rage only increasing.
Without giving me any warning, he had his hand wrapped around my throat, yanking me to my feet. There was such a coldness in his eyes that I was pulled into a vacuum, certain he was going to put a bullet in my brain. His body was shaking from the increasing anger, his jaw clenched so tightly that I was sick to my stomach even though it was difficult to take my eyes off him.
He lowered his head, his nostrils flaring. “It’s vital that we get along, Raven, as you’ve become very important to me. I will show you decency but there will be rules to follow. You will not go through my things. Is that understood?”
Everything about his statement was strange, as if he planned on keeping me forever. Of course, that was absurd. There was no way he could keep me as a prisoner. I would eventually be missed. While he wasn’t choking me, he was using enough pressure and his hand was so large that I had no doubt he could snap my neck if he wanted to. At this point, the only hope I had was playing along to his delusional belief. “Yes, sir.”
The single word of respect seemed to soften the powerful man. His expression changed and he eased the pressure even though his fingers remained wrapped around my throat. “Good girl.”
Flutters formed in my stomach from the praise and that made me want to be sick. “Who is she?”
He was taken aback by my forward question and took a few seconds rubbing his thumb back and forth across my lips. By the time he answered, he was smashing my lower lip from the pressure he used. “Someone special. Someone who didn’t deserve the life she was given.”
With that, he captured my mouth. This time the kiss was all consuming, full of fire and passion, as if this was the last action he’d ever take. Every nerve ending was on fire, seared from his heated touch, my heart racing from fear and excitement, a dangerous combination. Using his free hand, he glided it over my shoulder, the tingling sensations continuing.
I didn’t want to be lost in the moment or the man, but he’d managed to awaken something very dark and sensual inside of me, pushing aside far too many inhibitions. As he continued rolling his hand down my arm, shifting to my back, he pulled me against him. The way he shifted his hips back and forth, pushing me against his thick erection was a clear indication of what he wanted.
I remained completely in awe of his powerful kiss, trembling in his hold yet the wetness and throbbing between my legs was increasing. The ruthless man was precise in his actions, as if he’d calculated exactly what he was going to do to me. When he grabbed a fistful of the shirt I’d taken, I moaned into the kiss. He crushed me against him, cupping my bottom with one hand as he did so.
