Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I turned away from her and stalked toward the fireplace.
She was going to be mine.
I would bind her to me in every way imaginable—body and soul—until there was no escape.
“Pierce, please! Untie me. I’ll be good, I promise! I’m sorry I got angry. I’ll listen.”
I turned to face her.
The firelight danced in her eyes, the flames casting a warm glow over her naked skin.
Her lips quivered.
Taking a few steps closer to the bed, I reached out and stroked her cheek with the backs of my knuckles. Despite the warmth of the room, her face was chilled by her tears, now flowing freely.
“What I need you to understand,” I continued, “is that as soon as I met you, my revenge plan changed. I am now doing this to protect you. On my honor you will be safe, but only once you take my name.”
Her eyes went from begging, to confusion, to dawning horror as the truth of my demand sank in.
“It is the only guarantee of your safety,” I added softly.
It wasn’t a proposal. A proposal implied a question was being asked.
Still, she remained silent, allowing the tension to build until it was almost unbearable.
She blinked back the tears and sniffed before speaking.
“No.”
CHAPTER 44
GREYSON
Hailey’s usually radiant face was unusually still and lifeless.
I leaned back and nodded to the captain's inquiry. Ready for takeoff.
He was paid well to be ready at a moment's notice and to mind his own business.
The cabin hummed around us. Black crocodile leather. Silver-embroidered monograms. Deep mahogany paneling that absorbed the light.
The trappings of my obscene wealth.
I had already checked her breathing and pulse several times to assure myself I hadn’t taken things too far. I’d brought it to the line, but her breath was steady and her eyes clear. She’d wake up soon enough.
I took a seat next to hers and brought out my phone.
There were several messages from Jameson, all escalating threats.
Jameson: Where the fuck are you?
Jameson: Skylar told me about your new pet. She’d better be dead. The last thing I need is one of Madison’s friends running their mouth.
Jameson: I swear to god, if you haven’t put her down, I’ll bury you with Pierce. Hell, I’ll throw Skylar in the same fucking grave so you two can fight over that whore for all eternity.
Fuck Jameson. Fuck Skylar. And fuck me for ever being tempted by her in the first place.
Jameson was expecting an answer.
Fuck him.
Finally, Hailey stirred.
She flinched, sitting up with visible difficulty. Her dark, beautiful eyes widened as they adjusted to the dim interior and took in her surroundings.
“Welcome aboard,” I murmured, allowing my gaze to linger on her.
“Where am I?”
I reached for the bottle of chilled Krug Clos d’Ambonnay champagne and poured us both a glass without answering her.
“What did you do, Greyson?” she spat, every word etched with venom.
Her fingers clutched the armrest, nails digging into the lush leather.
The rich aroma of roasted lamb and fresh baked bread wafted in from the adjacent room.
I pushed a champagne flute in front of her and held mine aloft in a mock toast.
“Soon you’ll dine like a queen,” I mused aloud. “Fitting, don’t you think?”
She shot me a scathing look. “A captive queen. Where am I?” she repeated.
“You’re currently on my private jet on your way to New York.” I took a sip and studied her reaction.
“You kidnapped me?”
I stretched out my arms and gestured to our surroundings. “Kidnapped is such an ugly word for such luxurious surroundings.”
“You kidnapped me.”
“Agree to disagree.”
“There is no agreeing to disagree. I’m stating a fact.”
“You haven’t even tried your champagne.”
“And let you poison me? I don’t think so.”
I reached over her seat and picked up her glass. Keeping my gaze on her, I took a long sip, then handed it back to her.
She took the glass and threw the contents in my face.
I removed the linen napkin wrapped around the bottle and blotted the liquid off. “Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. That was an unforgivable waste of perfectly good champagne.”
She raised the arm clutching her empty champagne glass. “Unforgivable! You’re”—she pointed the end of the glass at me—“going to talk to me about unforgivable?”
I reached over and snatched the glass from her hand. No reason to give her more ammunition. “Fair point. You’re forgiven.”
Her fingers clenched into fists. “I didn’t ask for your forgiveness.”
“And yet I gave it to you anyway because that’s just the kind of decent man I am.”
I’d hoped to get a rise out of her and she did not disappoint.
She tried to stand but fell back when the seat belt tightened around her lap. With an adorably feral growl, she snatched open the seat belt latch and tried again. This time succeeding in launching herself into my lap, claws bared. “Decent man! Are you fucking kidding me?”
My hands wrapped around her wrists as I wrestled her against my chest. “You have a dirty mouth.”