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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“Enjoy your tour?”

“It’s lovely here,” she admitted.

“Great spot to unwind.”

“Be a prisoner, you mean.”

I slipped off the lounger, moving closer to the edge. “You aren’t a prisoner. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. Get you anything you want or need. You only have to ask.”

Roomba wandered out of the house and onto the stone patio, lying in the sun. She stretched out, rolling over, looking content.

“Your cat likes it here. Admit it, you do too.”

“I said it was pretty.”

I reached the side of the pool. “You’re being petulant now. You’re hot. You need to cool down.”

“And how—”

She was cut off as I grabbed her ankle and tugged. She fell into the pool with a muffled scream, coming up, her hair streaming around her. She wiped her face, planting her feet on the bottom of the pool, and glared.

“Ah, there’s the fire I like,” I said.

“Fudgsicle! You’re such a jerk. I could have drowned.”

“I would have rescued you. Given you mouth-to-mouth. In fact, if you’re feeling faint…” I arched an eyebrow at her.

“No, thank you. I am not interested.”

“Liar,” I teased. As soon as I said “mouth,” her gaze went to my lips. She was interested, all right.

“What did you say to that police officer?” she demanded, crossing her arms.

I didn’t lie. “I told him I had brought you here as a guest and you were angry with me and wanted to go home. He asked why you were angry.”

“And you said?”

“I told him I hadn’t disclosed where I was taking you, and you hadn’t brought the right clothes and were pissed at me. That you were saying I had kidnapped you and wanted me arrested. I asked him to put the cuffs on me to shut you up. He thought it was amusing that I would indulge you.”

She gasped in outrage. “That was all a setup?”

I edged closer. “You told him you were kidnapped. Then you backpedaled.”

“You helped. He thought I was crazy.”

“A little,” I admitted. “I told him you came with me on my plane and that you slept because you were tired. That I was the one who made you tired.” I quirked my eyebrows suggestively.

“You…motherducker! I was drugged!”

Motherducker? That was a new one. Where did she come up with these? I had to hide my amusement. She was getting angry again.

“He didn’t believe that. He said he saw the way you looked at me. He heard how I praised you. You told your version, I told mine. You changed your mind because you know, deep down, you want to stay here and be with me. You couldn’t tell him a lie and say you wanted to leave.”

“I never said that,” she sputtered.

I stopped in front of her. “But you feel it. I know you do.”

She was spectacular. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes snapping fury at me. She had her hands clenched into fists, ready for a fight. Her full mouth was tempting.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

I grabbed the shoulder straps of her overalls and pulled her upward, the water causing me no resistance. I kissed her, letting her feel the passion and desire I had for her. I hauled her close, bending her to my will. She kissed me back, feeling the same passion I did.

I pulled back, leaving her floundering.

“I know you do. That’s why this works.”

I left her in the pool.

She refused to have dinner with me, staying in her room. I ate in the dining room, asking my housekeeper to take her a plate. Gia informed me that Brianna hadn’t eaten much, and against my own judgment, I left her alone.

I passed her room later in the evening, noticing the light spilling out under the door. It stood ajar, and I looked in. Brianna was sitting on her bed, wearing a T-shirt and shorts. Her hair was loose, and she had a notebook on her bent knees. She was writing furiously. Roomba was next to her, asleep.

I tapped and entered her room. She looked up, her eyes wide in her face.

“Writing to your government for rescue?” I asked lightly.

“No.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, studying her. She looked calm. Serious. She had a pencil tucked behind her ear.

“Plotting your escape? Planning on messages in a bottle? Ideas on how to murder me in my sleep?”

“Making my list of demands.”

Her words surprised me. “I see. Negotiations, then.” I paused. “So, you will stay, Little Bee?”

“If you meet my conditions.”

I lifted my hand and tucked a curl behind her ear, pausing to stroke the lobe gently. “Haven’t you figured out you only have to ask and you can have it?”

“So if I asked nicely, you would let me go home?”

I shut my eyes at the rush of sadness her words caused. I couldn’t let her go. I wanted her too much. But I could make a huge concession.


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