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He was fucking hot.
The hottest man she had laid eyes on, and she had laid eyes on hundreds, if not thousands of men. At times, her house was like Grand Central Station. He looked oddly familiar, but she couldn’t place him. She’d remember meeting a man that attractive.
Damn.
Close your mouth, Frankie.
“Who are you?” she croaked, finding her voice.
“Are you Francesca?” He skipped right over her question. The way his deep voice said her name sent shivers down her spine.
“Um? Yes, but only my mom calls me that and only when I’m in trouble. Everyone else calls me Frankie. Who are you?” she asked again, staring at the man towering over her.
“The man you’re going to marry. I need you to come with me. Now,” he demanded.
Frankie noticed the tic in the stranger’s jaw, his clenched fist at his side, and the coldness in his eyes. She realized, albeit late, she was in danger.
“Marry you? I believe you have the wrong person.” Scooting backward, deeper into the rose bushes, she hoped to gain her balance, so she could push to a standing position.
“I am not in the mood to play games with you, little girl. Do not make me chase you. I will catch you, and you will regret it when I do.”
She had just admired his long legs and athletic physique. There was no question he would be faster and stronger, but she had a home-field advantage. She knew every nook and cranny after spending her childhood playing hide and seek with her cousins. Scooting just deep enough, she was covered by a thick blanket of thorns, she turned to her knees, rose, and fled.
She heard his curses behind her as she ran for her life toward the gardener’s shed. Protected by a keypad and double securedsteel doors, if she could get in, she would be safe inside until her family returned. Grabbing the doorknob, she punched in her mother’s birthdate and heard the squeaking of the old door opening as her heart raced.
“Hurry! Hurry!” she frantically begged. It opened just enough for her to fit through. Using all her might, she slammed the metal just as the man threw his body against it.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she slid down the wall farthest from the door. This building, like all the outer buildings, was reinforced. Her father’s business was a risky one, and enemies struck without warning. They had reinforced every building with security codes, bulletproof walls, and barred windows, making them almost impenetrable. The air was stale, almost stifling from the heat and dust. Regardless, she was safe, which was all that mattered.
“Francesca, damnit. Come out of there.”
“You are insane! I’m not coming out. If I were you, I’d be gone by the time my family returns from my sister’s wedding brunch.”
He mumbled in frustration.
Good, maybe he’d take the warning and leave. A bead of sweat slid down her forehead from the heat inside the room.
“Francesca, look, I didn’t want to tell you like this. Can you please open the door?” His tone was softer.
She wasn’t stupid.
“Do you think people haven’t tried to sweet-talk the members of my family out of safety to their deaths? Nah, I’m good. Besides, you are definitely chasing the wrong sister. I’m the youngest. There’s nothing to gain by marrying me. If it’s money you’re after, my family will pay you for my release, but after they had me safe…” She gagged at the thought of what her father would do. “After, they would catch you and kill you. It would be a long, torturous death, believe me.”
“I’m not trying to kidnap you. I’m Patrick’s youngest brother, Shane.”
“The Navy SEAL?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you just say that to begin with?” Frankie stood and started toward the door. “Wait. If you are my soon-to-be brother-in-law’s baby brother, why would you say you are going to marry me?”
“I wasn’t thinking, and the words just came out. Admittedly, not my finest moment. I realize that now. I’m sorry for saying that and for scaring you into running. I’m speaking out of grief and… Fuck. Francesca, could you please open the door?”
“Grief? Who died?”
“Please open the door, Francesca.”
She didnotlike the scolding way he was saying her name.
