Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“You’re crazy.”
“Yes, I am. About you. You’ve gotten under my skin, Little Bee. In an instant. You’re a craving I can’t satisfy. So I am going to take all I can. Every bite. Every flavor. You are going to be mine for the next while. Once my craving is done, once my sweet tooth is satisfied, you’ll go home.”
“I don’t believe you. You want more.”
I wound one of her curls around my finger. It was silky and soft. I tugged it gently. “I do want more. And you’ll give it to me. But it won’t be a part of our agreement. It will be because you want it too.”
“Please. Just let me go.”
“I can’t.”
“I’ll bake you as many cakes as you want. You must have a home in Toronto. I’ll bake you a cake every day for a year,” she bargained.
“I want you here.”
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, her eyes wide.
“Neither do I,” I admitted, gathering a handful of her tangled tresses into my fist. I stared down at her and felt the heat build between us as our eyes locked. Her cheeks were flushed now, from anger or passion, I didn’t know. Her dark eyes glimmered in the light, and I ran my hand up her arm, stroking across her shoulder and exposed collarbone. Her skin was warm, soft, and tempting.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“Then you need to stop looking at me like that.”
Her gaze dropped to my mouth, then back up again. She licked her lips, and the need to taste them, to feel them move with mine, was paramount.
I lowered my head, our mouths almost touching. I felt the heat of her breath on my lips, but I didn’t move. It was she who rose on her toes and pressed her mouth to mine.
One touch and I was lost. I yanked her tight to me and kissed her, sliding my tongue inside her mouth with a low groan. I tasted the sweet cheese and cherries from her pastry. The flavor of her coffee.
And her.
She was addictive.
And I was going to make her mine.
I pushed her into the wall, dropping my head to her neck and kissing the delicate skin. She gasped, her head falling back onto the hard surface.
Then she froze and pushed me away.
I stepped back, meeting her eyes.
They were wild and fearful.
“No,” she said.
I held up my hands. She called the shots when it came to how much she was willing to give me. Always.
I already anticipated her next move, and I let her have it. Her gaze bounced around the room, settling on the open French doors that led to the large patio. She ducked under my arm and ran full tilt toward them. Toward what she saw as freedom.
I let her run. There was no place for her to go. The property was vast, surrounded by trees and a thick, high fence. Even if she managed to make it to the gate, she couldn’t get over it. Smooth stone walls protected me. They would keep her safe as well. I would let her run and exhaust herself. Then I would fetch her, and once she calmed down, we would figure this out.
When I realized she was going to run to some horrendous little cabin out of the city to try to get away from me, I decided it was time to act. While she was out, I let myself into her tiny apartment, the lock easily picked. When I had been there the other night, she’d told me she had a cup of Ovaltine every night. The tin was almost empty, so adding a sedative was easy. I had a backup plan in case my theory was wrong.
But when I arrived that night, she was out cold. The two men I had with me made short work of packing up the boxes I had brought with us. I took her clothes and anything I thought she might want in the next while. Her already-packed case helped. Her cat proved surprisingly cooperative and let me put her in the carrier without a fuss. I carried an unconscious Brianna on to my private plane, and we were off the ground quickly. No one on board questioned the sleeping woman, and the customs man who came on board when we landed was someone I knew. The fast, false passport I’d had made was barely looked at, and we were on the way to the villa quickly. I had tucked her into bed, lying beside her for a while, then showered and went downstairs, deciding to let her sleep it off. I knew the sort of schedule she had, and I wasn’t surprised she was tired all the time. She needed the rest.
I walked toward the patio doors to see what direction she had run off in, stopping by the sofa, and I began to laugh. She had been anxious to get away from me, but not so anxious that she hadn’t snagged another cootie-infested pastry as she’d run past the table.