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I strolled around my parents’ house mindlessly, wandering through the rooms I knew so well with their expensive furniture, beautiful artwork and countless bouquets of expensive flowers. My heels clicked against the hardwood, but I didn’t care whether they left dents or not. I was on a mission to occupy myself and find something to hold my attention for longer than a little while.
I was going to end the night with a stranger in my bed, I decided. Perhaps it would be one of Daddy’s friends, a handsome older guy who would come at the mere thought of getting me into his arms without any clothes on. Or maybe it would be someone younger, one of the rare people who were my age at the get-together.
My thoughts swam with opportunities as I walked through the room, and then, all of a sudden, I came to a stop, my eyes growing wider and wider as they focused on the man talking to my father.
It was him.
The man who’d killed the father of my child. The man who threatened to hurt me if I kept trying to hunt him down. Right there, in our living room, in the flesh.
I fought the urge to approach him, attack him or figure out exactly what he was doing standing in my parents’ home, but before I had a chance to react, my father called out for me.
“Carina!” he said pleasantly. “Why don’t you come and join us? I’d like you meet my new business associate.”
I sauntered over confidently, even though my heart was beating a million times a minute. I kissed my father on the cheek and gave the other man a pleasant but inquisitive smile.
“I’d like you to meet Mr. Thorn,” my father said proudly. “He’s just joined us overseas as an investor.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” he growled and took my hand.
I watched with my eyes wide open as he kissed the top of my hand, watching it flutter back to my chest. He was impossibly handsome, dressed in a designer suit and with his hair slicked back, faint stubble covering his cheeks. I was intrigued and intimidated at the same time, and I wanted to know so much more about him.
“Carina is my only daughter,” my father went on. “We keep trying to convince her to join the family business, but she’s intent on making her dreams come true instead.”
“And what might those dreams be?” Thorn asked with a low growl.
He was so… possessive, to the point of almost sounding angry with every word he spoke. He sent shivers down my spine, but I loved it. I wanted more of him, but I needed to be careful not to give away the fact that we already knew each other. As far as my father was concerned, Thorn and I were complete strangers.
“I’m a dancer,” I told him what he already knew. “A ballet dancer.”
“What an interesting path she’s taken,” my father laughed jovially. “I wish I had half her talent. Now, Mr. Thorn, if I could just steal another moment of your time before I let you have some fun…”
They turned away from me, leaving me standing there and feeling completely useless. I made my way through the room, stopping to pick a glass of expensive champagne off one of the waiter’s platters. My heart was pounding, and I wasn’t sure I was hiding it all too well. My pussy was leaking at the thought of being close to him, desperate for him to take what I so desperately wanted to give him.
I spent the rest of the evening by indulging others in mindless conversations. There were men there who were obviously interested in me, but I didn’t bother wasting my time on them. Now, there was only one person in the room I was interested in, and every time I caught his dark eyes lingering on me, I felt a jolt of electricity shoot up my spine.
It was nearing the end of the evening, and I decided I only had one shot to get what I wanted. I started following him around, moving in circles and making sure I was always close to him, picking my conversation partners based on where he was in the room. He must’ve noticed. His dark eyes kept stealing glances at me, provoking unanswered questions in my mind.
Finally, I watched him excuse himself and went right after him into the hallway that led into the cloak room. He was waiting for me, his strong, muscular arm wrapping around my throat the second we were alone. I gasped as he stepped out of the shadows, his eyes filled with dark intent as they connected with mine.
“You following me?” he asked in that raspy voice of his, and I coughed and sputtered as he held me up in his arms as if I weighed nothing. “That’s not a very good idea, girl.”
