by Celia Aaron
He moved closer, but dropped his hand. “That wasn’t even close to what I want from you.”
16
Sebastian
She spent the rest of the afternoon in the library. I should have left her alone so she could get comfortable, but I couldn’t. Being near her had become a biological imperative, which was ludicrous. Still, I couldn’t shake my need for her.
Our kiss only intensified it, and instead of wondering what her lips felt like, now I wondered what sort of sounds she’d make while I was buried between her thighs. I wanted to explore all of her. But she kept her distance, refusing to even meet my eyes. My mind clicked through our interaction, the way she reacted to me—her tongue tangled with mine, her sweet moan, the way she held onto me. All the signs told me she’d enjoyed it, but instead of taking it further, she’d turned cold and pushed me away. What was holding her back?
The white knight. It had to be. He was a moron on all fronts except his taste in women. I hated every second he’d had with her. Maybe I’d miscalculated when I’d decided to leave him alive. If she loved him, he’d be dead. But I knew with an unwavering certainty that she didn’t.
She sat in a chair near the fire, a notepad in one hand and a book in the other. As she read and scribbled notes, she seemed to be in a different world, one where her captivity didn’t chafe. Eventually, I wanted her to feel this relaxed all the time. And one day, there would be no need for the ankle bracelet or the surveillance I’d set up through the entire house.
I pretended to study more contracts from a chair near one of the windows. Instead, I accessed her text messages via a specialty program that allowed me respond in such a way that it appeared the signal pinged from Brazil. Keeping up the appearance that she was fine was an integral part of my plan to make her eventually disappear.
Mint Baxter: Ms. Briarlane. It’s me, Mint. I wasn’t going to text you again so soon, but things have gotten kind of heavy with my parents. I know you’re in Brazil, but you told me I could text you and you’d respond as soon as you had cell service at your camp. I need to talk to you. Please text or call me back when you can.
Camille Briarlane: I’m sorry, Mint. I’m very busy with my new projects. We can speak when I return.
Veronica Singer: You had to have landed a while ago. Text me and let me know you weren’t eaten by angry Amazon tiger things.
Camille Briarlane: Everything here is fine. I’ll text when I can.
Link Stewart: I miss you, baby. How was your flight? I love you.
Camille Briarlane: Great. Won’t have much cell service. Will text when I can.
Leaving Link hanging gave me a delicious sense of satisfaction. The other two would be easy enough to throw off the scent. Link was the only real threat to my plan, but he’d stay in the dark just as he’d done for most of his senseless life. Once satisfied with my subterfuge, I switched to reviewing contract documents for timberland deals, but my eyes couldn’t focus on the endless legal terms, not when she was so near. I started off just stealing glances, but when I’d realized she was engulfed in her book, I’d stared.
A loud crash of shattering glass shot down the hallway from the opposite wing.
She jumped and peered at me with troubled eyes. “What was that?”
“Nothing to worry about.”
A few shouts and then the sound of hastily approaching footsteps tapped down the long back hall.
“Mr. Lindstrom?” Timothy knocked at the library door.
Bitter to give up my view, I rose and strode out into the hall and closed the door behind me. “What was that?”
“Some of the workmen dropped the final wall pane.” His light eyes had dark circles beneath them. “It shattered, but they have another to replace it.”
“It has to be finished tomorrow.”
“It will be.” He glanced at the door behind me. “How’s she doing?”
“I think she’s getting used to—”
My phone vibrated, and an incessant beeping raised the hackles on the back of my neck. “Fuck.”
I swung the library door open just in time to see her jump out the window and take off across the lawn.
A thrill coursed through my veins, and a buzz started in my brain. The need to chase her overrode every other concern. Even though she had nowhere to go, I still wanted to track her down and drag her back so she’d know there was no other reality but this one. And I would.
Timothy blanched as he stared into the empty library. “Shall I—”
“No.” I flexed my fists. “I’ll handle it.” Striding past him, I pushed out the door to the pool and skirted it on my way to the rear door beyond the waterfall. The cold air greeted me with a bitter chill as I walked into the cloudless day. Turning right, I entered the code to raise the rear garage door. The lights overhead clicked on as soon as it opened. Motorcycles and ATVs filled the room, with the car garage along the other wing of the house.
I chose the nearest ATV, a black four-wheeler. Slinging a leg over the leather seat, I started it up, the engine coughing and then purring to life. Guiding it from the garage, I hit the grass and stopped, just watching her in the distance. She ran hard, desperate to escape me. The fissure in my chest opened again, lava surrounding my heart and charring the edges. No amount of antacids could cure the feelings she brought to my surface. Though I couldn’t be sure, I suspected the feeling was a mix of rage and pain. My phone vibrated and beeped a different set of sounds, telling me that she’d passed the first barrier away from the house.
What she didn’t understand was that there were six more barriers, each one farther than the last. I gunned the engine and leaned forward as I raced across the sea of grass. Her retreating form pulled me forward like an arrow. The ache in my chest intensified. I had to have her.
She aimed for the tree line, seeking shelter in the foothills of the Catskills. I rocketed through the chill air, straight toward my prey. Her hair flew out behind her in a golden ribbon, and she chanced a look over her shoulder.
I couldn’t see her face, but I imagined the panic that must have widened her eyes, perhaps made her jaw go slack. Instead of giving up, she poured more fuel on her fire, her legs pumping as she pushed herself toward the woods. She wouldn’t make it. A hundred yards dwindled to fifty. Then less.
Gunning it, I cut a wide arc around her and got ahead of her, cutting her off. She slowed, her chest heaving as she eyed me.
“Nowhere to go, Camille,” I called over the purr of the motor. “Hop on, and I’ll take you back to the house.” I smirked. Why? I knew she didn’t like it. But I did it anyway. I analyzed my thoughts and realized I wanted her to run. It would make the catch all that much sweeter. And then she’d know there was no way out.
“I can tell when you go robot.” Her words came on a whoosh of air as she tried to catch her breath. “Right then, your cogs were turning. Because you’re a psycho.”
I shrugged. “Get on.”
“What were you thinking?” She edged to the right.
I kept her in my sights like a hawk watching a field mouse. “That I rather enjoy it when you run.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” She broke hard right, darting behind me and toward the trees.
I climbed off the ATV and took off after her. My long strides ate up the ground between us. She was fast, but I was far faster. She’d almost reached the edge of the grass when I wrapped my arms around her and yanked her back.
Her exquisite scream awoke something new inside me, a different face on the monster I knew so well. She kicked and threw elbows. I stumbled under her onslaught and fell, cradling her to my chest to keep her safe. My back landed on the turf, sending my air out in a whoosh, and she tried to scramble away from me.
I grabbed a handful of her shirt and dragged her onto the ground, then pinned her. She slapped and tried to add to the claw marks she’d already left on one side of my face.
“Let me go!” she screamed as I captured her wrists and pinned
them over her head.
“I will never let you go.” I squeezed them almost to the point of pain. “Never.”
“Bastard!”
My eyebrows popped to my hairline. Camille didn’t curse. The thought that I brought out the worst in her made something akin to glee bubble up in my chest. I wanted to bring everything out of her—good, bad, ugly, beautiful—everything that made her her.
She still struggled, her chest pressing against mine. My cock hardened at the first moment she screamed, and if I hadn’t been straddling her, she would have felt it.
“You have to calm down.” I leaned closer, resting more of my weight on her. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
“I hate you.” A tear escaped her right eye. I wanted to taste it.
“You don’t.”
She turned her head away, staring back toward the house, and settled down. “You can’t keep me here forever.”
“I don’t intend to.”
She faced me, her eyebrows pressing together in confusion. “What?”
“I intend to keep you forever, but not always here.”
“What?”
I let go of her left wrist and smoothed some of the wild blonde strands out of her face. “I have several properties all over the world. And I’d hoped you would one day see how right you and I are. When that happens, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” I eased my palm to her neck and rested it there, feeling her pounding heartbeat. “But I can see that will take time.”
She shook her head. “What if I want to go by myself?”
“You won’t.” I glanced to her lips, desperate for another taste. “You’ll see.”
Her pulse quickened, but she scowled. “Get off me.”
“Are you going to behave?”
“Are you going to let me go?” She shoved at my shoulder.
I pressed into her, enjoying the feel of her hard nipples against my chest. “No.”
“So, that’s a no for me, too.”
I sighed. “Will you at least stop running for the afternoon?”
“What, aren’t you going to threaten my books again to keep me in line?” Her defiant tone lit all sorts of fires inside me. I wanted to taste her anger, maybe wear it like a second skin.
“That deal is done, sealed with a kiss. Your books are safe.” I increased the pressure on her throat. “But I have other methods at my disposal if you enjoy being threatened.”
Another jump in her pulse. Fuck, even her blood turned me on.
“I don’t. Now get off.”
“I’ll need your word, Camille.”
She stared into my eyes. “I promise I won’t run again today.”
“Good girl.” I sat back and rose to my feet, then offered her my hand.
She ignored it and climbed to her feet, then brushed the grass from her clothes.
I walked to the ATV. She followed, her silence an accusation. One that I didn’t care about.
“Get on.” I slung a leg over and patted the seat in front of me.
“I’ll walk.” She stepped around the ATV and headed toward the house.
People didn’t refuse me. If they tried, I made them suffer. But I never wanted to hurt her. It was as if my gears ground to a halt and started smoking wherever she was concerned. A word floated to the tip of my tongue, one that was more foreign to me than ancient Farsi.
But I was compelled to say it. “Please?”
She halted and put her hands on her hips, her back still to me.
I idled over to her.
She chewed her thumbnail.
“Come on. It’s getting colder.” It was true, but I wanted the feel of her against me. And more than that, I needed to know she was warm and safe.
“Fine, but only because you said please.” She sighed and kicked her leg over the seat behind me. Her arms wrapped around me tentatively.
I smiled and gassed it. She gripped me tight, just as I’d intended, and we sped off across the brittle grass.
17
Camille
We ate dinner downstairs in the large dining room. Rita served us with pride, and I ate more than I had at lunch. Her pork tenderloin and new potatoes could tempt even the most stalwart of stomachs.
Sebastian sat at the head of the table, and I perched on the chair to his left. The rest of the room remained barren, too much open space to be comfortable.
I sipped my wine and pondered the butter knife on my plate. Would it do any damage?
“If you’re going to stab me, I’d use the fork. It would leave a better impression. More badass than a dull butter knife, don’t you think?” His face was calm, but I could feel him laughing at me.
“You’re an asshole.”
“You’re a name caller.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin and lay it neatly next to his plate. “And quite the cuss, as well.”
“I wasn’t.” I took a deep, calming breath. “Until you imprisoned me.”
“It’s only been, what, a day?” The edge of his mouth quirked up. “Just imagine how horribly you’ll treat me tomorrow.”
My blood turned into lava. “How I treat you?” I seethed and seriously considered taking his advice with the fork.
Rita walked in from the kitchen with two plates, each laden with a large slice of layered cheesecake. Chocolate and cream cheese combined to form the most decadent dessert I’d ever seen—and one I recognized.
“Is this from Delatoni’s?” I scrutinized the delicious confection as Rita placed it in front of me.
“Of course not.” Sebastian took his plate from Rita.
“I made it for you.” Rita blushed.
I wanted to crawl under the table. “I meant no offense, Rita. I’m sorry. It looks so good.”
“Please, enjoy.” She waved away my apology and returned through the side door to the kitchen.
It had the exact same caramel drizzle along the top, even the same dollop of whipped cream, as my all-time favorite dessert—the layered cheesecake only available at Delatoni’s in Brooklyn.
I arched an eyebrow at Sebastian. “Did you do this?”
“I’m not much of a baker. So, no.” He grabbed his dessert fork.
“You know what I mean.” My mouth watered, but I wouldn’t touch my cheesecake until he explained what was going on.
“If you’re asking me about the recipe, yes. I paid Mr. Delatoni handsomely for it and entrusted it to Rita.” He sliced a triangle of deliciousness from the front edge and slipped it into his mouth.
His eyes closed, and he made an “mmm” sound that made my stomach tighten. He chewed and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing against the collar of his button down. I had to look away. Every emotion that should have been dead inside me sputtered to life. How could I feel anything for Sebastian other than disgust?
“How did you know it was my favorite?”
He pointed to my slice. “Take a bite, and I’ll tell you.”
The caramel swirl along the side drizzled down the layers. I licked my lips.
“Think of it this way. If you don’t even try it, Rita will blame herself for not making it well enough.”
I resisted the urge to call him another name. It just seemed to play into his hands, as if he wanted me to give in to every cruel thought that flitted across my mind. Not that I had a lot of them. But the fact that he wanted me to act on my negative thoughts threatened to undermine my plan of “out-nastying” him into releasing me.
I plucked my dessert fork from the table and slid it through the velvety layers. Surely it wouldn’t be as good as Delatoni’s, no offense to Rita. The perfect flavors of cheesecake, chocolate, and caramel hit my tongue. Oh my god. It was better than Delatoni’s. I tried another bite, testing my theory and finding it to be true. It was so good.
“What’s the verdict?” He watched me, satisfaction creeping across his handsome face as I failed to hide my enjoyment.
“Rita has outdone herself.” I forced myself to set the fork down. “Now how did you know that was my fav
orite?”
“I overheard that imbecile Link talking about how he was going to take you to Delatoni’s for your birthday a few months ago. He was bragging to everyone in my conference room right as I arrived.” He shrugged. “I hadn’t met you yet, but I recalled that bit of info after we met.”
“Yeah, because that’s not the least bit creepy.”
“Where you’re concerned, I’ll be as creepy as necessary to make you happy.”
I bit my tongue, though I wanted to remind him that what would make me happiest was freedom. It wouldn’t do any good.
“Don’t stop now. Get all the sweetness you want.” He licked the tines of his fork, his tongue doing things to me that I refused to acknowledge. “I intend to.”
I pulled my napkin from my lap and slapped it on the dark wood table. “I’ve had enough.”
“Off to bed, then?” He rose. “I’m game.”
“I’d prefer to go back to the library.”
“So you can fall asleep in front of the fire, alone?” He tsked. “I think not. Your place is with me.”
He’d seen right through me. Damn him.
I plucked my fork from the plate and took another bite. “In that case, I think I’ll enjoy a leisurely dessert. Is there coffee?”
He sank back into his chair, amusement brightening the depths of his unfathomable eyes. “Of course. Anything you want.”
I’d waited him out, eaten almost all of my cheesecake, and drank my coffee until the last cup began to go cold. The large clock in the foyer struck midnight, and I desperately wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep away this nightmare of a day.
“Have you had enough?” He lounged comfortably, though his large frame made the ornate dining chair squeak whenever he shifted.
“I’m tired.”
“I know.” He stood. “It’s past your bedtime.”
I needed to rest, to think, to get a clear idea of how I was going to get out of this mess. Even if that meant I’d have to sleep in his bed. I’d just hug the edge again as I’d done the previous night.
“You win.” I rose, hoping he hadn’t noticed that I’d tucked the fork inside my sleeve.