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What kind of world did he want to leave for his children and grandchildren when, at a moment’s notice, he was on a jet headed to Springfield or DC?
It occurred to me that I hadn’t tried to lure her into helping me. In fact, she might not even know I was in trouble.
I caught her cold, fragile hand in mine and pulled her back as she made her way to the door.
“Please,” I urged. “I know it sounds crazy, but your boss just bought me from my parents. I need to get out of here.”
She stared at me and blinked.
“Oh, dear, I think I forgot to turn off the oven.” She rushed outside, the door closing behind her.
I ran after her, yanking at the door handle.
She locked me in.
Shoot!
I paced back and forth, then grabbed the curtain and tore it from its rails. I didn’t know why I did it. I wanted to ruin something in his house the way he ruined me.
I flung myself over the bed, a scream tearing at my lungs.
I cried myself to sleep that day.
In my dream, I imagined Angelo dropping in for a visit at my parents’, finding out what happened with Wolfe, and then looking for me all over town.
In my dream, he drove here, unable to bear the thought of me being with another man, and confronted Wolfe.
In my dream, he took me away, somewhere far and tropic. Somewhere safe.
This was the part where I knew it was a fantasy—if my father couldn’t stop Wolfe, no man could.
When I stirred awake, the last rays of the sun lazily filtered through the tall, bare windows. My throat felt groggy and dry, and my eyes were so puffy I couldn’t even open them all the way.
I would kill for a glass of water, but I would die before asking for one.
The bed was dipped to one side. When I cracked my eyes open, I found out why.
Wolfe was sitting on the edge of the queen-size mattress. He stared at me with his piercing gaze and seemed to burn past skin and bones and hearts, turning them all to ash.
I narrowed my eyes, then opened my mouth to give him a piece of my mind.
“Before you say anything,” he warned, pushing the sleeves of his crisp white shirt up his elbows to expose veiny, muscular, and tan forearms, “I believe an apology is in order.”
“You think an apology is going to fix this?” I snapped acidly, tugging at the blanket to cover more of my body even though I was fully dressed.
He smirked, and I realized he liked our exchanges very much.
“It’d be a nice start. You said I was not being a gentleman, and I beg to differ. I honored your tradition and demanded your hand after kissing you.”
Unbelievable.
Now I was fully awake, my back pressing against the headboard.
“You want me to apologize to you?”
He smoothed the soft fabric of the pressed linen, taking his time to answer me.
“Shame your parents are set in their wish to keep you an obedient little housewife. You have a natural, fast grip on things.”
