Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 240(@250wpm)___ 200(@300wpm)
I’m about to get up from my nest in the windowsill when the door opens. The light flicks on. I blink a couple of times, taking in Roman where he stands in the doorframe. His physique is so powerful, his mere presence feels like a threat.
“What time is it?” I ask stupidly, still disorientated from just waking.
He steps into the room. His voice is much too quiet for the weight of his words. “Time to give me your answer.”
My muscles tighten. Wide awake now, I sit up straight. “Does that mean Bell knows?”
He studies me with a too observant gaze. “Do you always call your father by his first name?”
Shit. Thinking quickly, I say, “Only when we’re alone. We’re liberal that way.”
His eyes crinkle in the corners. He’s not buying the lie. “Right.”
“Does he?” I ask, choosing diversion.
“When I tell him is up to you.”
Under his scrutiny, I shift on my seat. “Me? What does that mean?”
“I’ll tell him when you say yes.”
My heart stops beating. Behind my back, the window feels cold. The frost of the night penetrates through the glass and invades the marrow in my bones.
He waits quietly.
Bell doesn’t know who took me. He can’t know for sure. He can’t devise a plan of getting me back if he doesn’t know where I am. He won’t give Roman that diamond. That’s not how Bell will get me back. He’ll kill Roman. Most likely, he’ll use me to set a trap.
“I’m waiting,” Roman reminds me.
The sooner I say yes, the sooner I’ll get out of here and see Eden.
Play the role. Win time.
Can I play this role? My throat closes up at the implication of my answer. My chest starts heaving. Bell’s training has been thorough. I should be prepared, but I’m not.
“Evie,” Roman says, pulling my gaze with his soft voice. “I’m not going to hurt you. Not in bed.”
His face swims in my vision. I’m not naïve. He wants to punish Bell through me. Sex is a very effective weapon. Bell taught me that lesson himself.
Closing the distance, he stops in front of me. He extends his hand, but he doesn’t reach for me. He waits to see if I’ll take it.
“The choice is yours, Evie.”
He’s wrong.
The choice has never been mine.
It wasn’t when Bell tied me to the work bench in his basement and broke me in. It’s not when I place my palm in Roman’s hand.
CHAPTER 8
Roman
* * *
Evie puts her slender hand in mine. Her skin is cold.
I wrap my fingers around hers and hold out my other hand. “Give me the knife.”
She hesitates.
“If I have to take it, there will be consequences,” I say, laying down one of the fundamental rules that will apply for as long as she’s staying under my roof.
When she shoves aside the throw, I help her to her feet. She frees herself from my grasp and pulls the knife out from under the cushion.
Her tone is resigned when she holds it out to me. “Andrew wasn’t lying.”
“Not about the cameras.” I take the knife and clasp her hand in mine again, laying down another rule. I won’t let her endanger herself. “Nothing happens in this house without me knowing.”
I don’t tell her I watched the feed compulsively during the day. The knowledge of how fast my obsession with her is growing can only frighten her more. I repeat Mateo’s words to myself. She’s a means to an end. That’s what this fixation is about. It’s about finally bringing down her family.
“Great,” she mutters under her breath.
I let it go, dragging her along with me to the hallway.
“Where are we going?” she asks with a hint of fear she doesn’t manage to hide from her voice.
Conscious of her injuries, I slow my step and keep my strides small. “Have you eaten?”
She grips the balustrade with her free hand for balance, flinching as she puts weight on her feet. “I fell asleep.”
My words are a rebuke. “You shouldn’t skip lunch.”
“I was tired.”
Naturally. I’m a hardened man, but I’m not unfeeling. Not even my heart can remain unsympathetic after what I’ve put her through. “I don’t cook as well as Mateo, but I can fry a steak.”
She glances at the front door when we cross the foyer. “No guard, tonight?”
Ignoring the bite in her tone, I usher her down the hallway to the kitchen. “I don’t need them inside the house when I’m home.”
For once, she doesn’t retort with her sharp little tongue.
I seat her at the island counter and take ingredients from the fridge. After rinsing lettuce and tomatoes, I put them in front of her with a cutting board and the sharpest knife from the block.
“Make yourself useful,” I say with a wink.
She looks at the knife. I grin as I turn to the stove and switch on the gas. I bet she’s fantasizing about sinking that blade into my back. She’s too clever, though. She knows she won’t get far. Nope. She’ll stew in her anger while scheming until an opportunity arises. Of course, there won’t be any such luck. I’m much too thorough.