Page 22 of Captive Vows
Extending his arms, he lowered his hands to straighten the cuffs of his jacket. Even those movements were fluid and graceful. He moved like a panther, like a powerful being at ease with his identity and unafraid to control everything that could impact him.
Watching me stare at him, he arched one brow. It wasn’t a sign of amusement. It wasn’t an expression of anything but what I could interpret as mild intrigue.
“What?” I demanded, pissed at how shaky that single little word was as it came from my lips.
“You asked to see me?” he replied.
Cool yet raspy. Deep yet smooth. His voice was the whiskey-laced kind of smoky growl that had me snapping to attention.
I cleared my throat. “You? I asked to seeyou?”
What the fuck?
What the hell am I saying?
I didn’t know where this ridiculous bravado was coming from. It wasn’t like the naïve and risky attitude I used when I tried to hit on Oliver at the studio. This false courage and tough exterior weren’tme.
He didn’t stop until he stood right in front of me. I was within reach. If he so pleased, he could snap his arm out and grab me by the throat. He’d squeeze, too, able to end my life. Like all the others, his minions and soldiers, this guy was a killer. The dark aura that emanated from him was unmissable, but somehow, I clung to this stupid idea that I could still be tough around him.
Stopping still to loom over me, he breathed in and out once. His chest rose and fell as his lean face remained unreadable and unwelcoming. No smile. Not a smirk, either.
“Yes.” His reply was clipped and brokered no nonsense.
“I asked foryou?” I huffed, rolling my eyes.
I was signing a death sentence, trying to mock him, but I couldn’t stop. I had to dosomething, and fighting like this was all I could think of.
Ever so slightly, he edged in closer. One placement of his foot toward me. That was all he did while glaring down at me. Nothing else. A single step closer and I wanted to buckle down and cower.
Instead, I forced my throat to swallow and refused to back down.
“You asked to speak to the boss.” He tilted his head toward the side as he peered at me.
“You’re the boss around here?”
“I am the boss.” He wasn’t confirming what I’d said. He told me that statement like it was a law I should know. No questions asked.
“Fine.” Dammit, that came out shakily too. “Then release me.”
Nothing. He stared me down. I wished I could claim to be stronger, but I wasn’t. Pinned under his hard stare, I weakened. I snapped. I just couldn’t take his scrutiny this directly.
“I didn’t ask for this. For any of this.”
He shook his head without breaking his glare. “You didn’t.”
Now we were getting somewhere. He agreed.
“Then release me. I don’t belong here.”
Again, he shook his head. “You do.”
“What?” I dropped my arms and gaped at him. “No. No, I do not. I don’t fucking belong here. You had no right to have your goons kidnap me. I’ve got nothing to do—” I shook my head, but it wasn’t the slight movement he did. I jerked it from side to side, as if denying what he said with vehemence would make things go my way. “I refuse to be kidnapped like this.”
“Too late.”
You asshole.
“I will not accept this.”
