Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 25523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 128(@200wpm)___ 102(@250wpm)___ 85(@300wpm)
Not such an unwilling captive after all.
Chapter 5
Colette
Tyson’s car lurches forward, and I realize I’m not even trying to pull away from him anymore when I’m pressed even closer to his broad chest. I shift away from him, sliding across the seat to glare. “You kidnapped me!”
“Damn straight, I did.” His full lips tilt up in a satisfied smirk, and he doesn’t look the slightest bit apologetic. Or worried. Instead, he leans his head back and stretches his legs out, crossing them at the ankles like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Kidnapping is a federal offense. One with serious jail time in a real prison, not some cushy minimum security jail,” I point out with a huff, eyeing his tuxedo clad body up and down. “You’re too pretty for prison. You should probably let me go before you get into trouble.”
“I’m not letting you go.” His blue eyes burn into mine. “Especially now that I know you think I’m sexy.” He ends with a wink.
“Sexy?” I sputter. “You must’ve heard me wrong. I didn’t say you’re sexy. I called you a pretty boy. Most guys would be offended by that.”
“Yeah, but I’m not most guys.” His gaze drops to where my pebbled nipples press against the material of my dress. “And your lips might be saying pretty, but your body is most definitely screaming sexy.”
I’m wearing a strapless bra under my lined gown, but the double protection is no match for my body’s reaction to Tyson. I can protest it all I want, but it doesn’t change the fact that my attraction to him is intense. I sit up as straight as I can and cross my arms over my chest. “It doesn’t matter how sexy you are; you can’t just go around kidnapping women whenever you want.”
“You’re the only woman I’m interested in kidnapping,” he growls. “And you didn’t leave me any other choice.” His blue orbs darken a shade, and a muscle in his jaw flexes. As he leans forward, I notice that his hands are clenched so tight that his knuckles are white. “My gifts didn’t get me anywhere. You ignored most of my texts. Didn’t accept my invite to the Oscars. And then you show up on the arm of Carson Grier of all people. He’s your boss for fuck’s sake, Colette. You should know better than to get romantically involved with him. And, he’s old enough to be your father! What did you expect me to do?”
Wait. Did he just say what I think he did? “You really think that?”
Tyson is too pissed off to even hear me. “Not that I wouldn’t have reacted the same if your date had been some other asshole. You don’t belong with anyone else but me dammit!”
The combination of Tyson mistaking my dad for my date and his declaration that I belong with him is too much for my brain to handle all at once. A hysterical burst of laughter bubbles up my chest. Tyson leans around me and flips open a compartment to pull out a chilled bottle of water. After cracking it open, he hands the bottle to me. “Take a sip.”
There’s a thread of command in his voice, and I comply without thinking. I drink about half the bottle before handing it back. Taking a deep breath, I study Tyson while he places his mouth on the same exact spot mine had just been and polishes off the rest of the water. He licks his lips, like he’s tasting me on them, and I almost lose track of what I want to say. Forcing myself to focus, I blurt out, “He’s my dad.”
Tyson cocks his head to the side and his brow wrinkles. “What the fuck does your dad have to do with us?”
As hard as it is for me to believe, I can tell he really has no clue. It makes his reaction tonight a little more understandable. Without knowing our relationship, I could see how someone might put the wrong spin on how my dad and I act around each other since we’re openly affectionate. “With all of your connections, I thought you would’ve already found out. My full name is Colette Anne Moore, but I’m a Grier by blood.” I pause to let that sink in for a minute before adding, “Carson Grier isn’t my date. He’s my dad.”
Tyson’s eyes go wide and he jerks back in surprise. “Holy fuck! You’re Carson’s daughter?”
“Yup, ever since I was born. And apparently going by my mom’s maiden name has worked even better than I imagined if you weren’t aware of our connection. My dad’s always been super careful about keeping me out of the Hollywood limelight.”
My quip earns me a brief smile, even while he mutters something under his breath about skimming over an important part of the report. I don’t know what he’s talking about, but he doesn’t give me the chance to wonder about it much before he asks, “Is that why you’ve been trying to avoid me?”