My Favorite Kidnapper Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Funny, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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“How do you know I get off at seven?” she asked.

“Like I said, determined.”

“Pigheaded is more like it. I suppose when you’re an old man, you have lots of time on your hands.”

I crossed the room, slipping my fingers under her chin and forcing her to meet my eyes. “We are going to address the ‘old man’ comments later. For clarity, I am twelve years your senior, not forty. And nothing about me is old. You certainly react to my mouth on yours quickly enough.”

She blushed, the heat of her skin warming the ends of my fingers.

“Rude,” she muttered.

I leaned down. “You’re going to react to my mouth everywhere soon enough, Little Bee. I’ll show you how not old I am then when you’re screaming my name.”

I covered her gasp of shock with my lips, kissing her hard and deep. I stepped back, smirking as she blinked, a dazed look on her face.

“I’ll be back by seven. No point in running. I know where you live.”

And I walked away, not looking back.

It took everything in me to do so, but I knew if I didn’t, I would haul her back into my arms, and Kenneth was going to get a show he hadn’t bargained on.

BRIANNA

I felt the possession of his lips the rest of the afternoon. It was as if he imprinted his passion on me. He was the last person I had expected to see today. The reaction his presence caused shocked me. Simply sitting there, staring at me. I had felt intense relief course through me, all the bad things that had happened lately washing away. He was there.

For me.

I knew it as instinctively as I knew when I began to cry, he would help me. He wrapped me in his tight embrace and took control, allowing me five minutes to get out all the frustrations and worry. To burrow into his warmth and inhale his intoxicating scent.

Kenneth, Gwen, and Gretchen didn’t question him. They knew better. He exuded power. Control. They did what he said. Gwen always worked, but the other two belonged to MaryJo and they couldn’t care less. Nothing I did lit a fire under them. This was just a job to please Mommy and make some money. They had zero interest in the bakery or being good employees. I hated working with them but was never given a choice. I did ninety percent of the work and received a lot of disrespect and eye-rolling from the two of them. My pleas to hire other staff fell on deaf ears. By paying them, she could literally write off their allowance. She wasn’t bothered if I or other staff had to work harder.

But they jumped to attention when Dante gave them directions. Kenneth walked into the kitchen after he’d left, looking unusually subdued. His phone was nowhere to be seen, and his apron was actually dirty.

“Is, ah, your boyfriend coming back?”

I was about to deny he was my boyfriend, but I caught the glimpse of worry in his eyes.

“Probably. He likes to stay close,” I fibbed.

“Right. Okay, I’ll stay out front.”

He left, and I had to laugh a little. Apparently the power I felt Dante exude wasn’t limited to me. He made Kenneth worried enough to actually work. That was a first.

Dante.

The name suited him. If he was Carolina’s dad’s brother, then he was Dante Frost.

Somehow it fit him perfectly.

I shook my head. Whatever his name was, he was crazy. Calling Carolina on her honeymoon, getting my name, coming here. I knew he lived elsewhere, so why he was still here, I had no idea.

And I refused to think of the reason.

As for dinner, Kenneth might be afraid of him, but I wasn’t. And one thing I knew about Carolina, she might have told him where I worked, but she would never divulge my address. I wasn’t going to dinner with him. And I wasn’t scheduled here for another week, so by then, he would have grown tired of waiting for me and flown back to whatever part of the world he lived in.

I would leave early and avoid him.

Simple.

At six-thirty, I informed Kenneth I was heading home.

“You lock up this time,” I said. “I always do it.”

“I don’t remember the passcode for the security system,” he whined.

Feeling oddly brave, I shrugged. “Call your mother and ask.”

I left via the back door, peeking around the corner.

The street was vacant except for a red SUV parked by the curb. No sign of any Lamborghinis or other fancy cars, which I was certain Mr. Dante Frost drove. I would be home before he arrived and be curled up on my favorite—and only—chair, eating ramen.

I had a feeling that would be my evenings for the foreseeable future.

I turned and began walking, hoping to catch the earlier bus. I arrived at the deserted stop, pulling my coat around my neck. It was cooler today, the wind strong. The weatherman forecast rain over the next two days, and it matched the mood I felt descending on me.


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