Page 9 of The Pakhan's Forced Bride
I squeal in genuine surprise.
Jeez, this guy is as strong as an ox, and built like one, too.
I’ve never seen a man as solid as this before. My hands press against his back muscles, and they flex beneath my fingers as he climbs the steps onto the plane. Inside, he drops me onto a seat and snarls, “Don’t try anything.”
I nod meekly, backing into the seat to escape him, holding my tied hands defensively in front of myself.
He leans over and buckles me in, and his cologne drifts over me. For a moment, I close my eyes and breathe it in. He has a distinctly masculine smell. It sends desire pulsing through me, which I don’t like.
It’s one thing to be okay with being kidnapped, knowing I can escape. But to be turned on by the idiot who is taking me—that’s not in the plan. He might be sexy as all hell, but he’s grumpy and upright, and I haven’t seen him smile once.
Not that this is a smiling kind of situation, but come on, everyone enjoys a little dark humor even in tense moments.
Not this guy. He’s a stone wall of misery.
I didn’t notice the black ink tattoo over his neck before. It was too dark. It flows up from beneath the collar of his shirt, behind his ear, and along the edge of his jaw on one side of his face. It’s really intenseand really sexy.
The heat from his body soaks into me, and I turn my face away from him until he’s finished buckling me in and steps back.
He looks down at me with satisfaction. He must think I turned my face away in fear. That’s good.
Ardalion sits directly opposite me, even though this plane is spacious, and he could sit anywhere. His legs are so long that they are pressing against mine. Mm. It’s distracting.
It’s weird to be so enticed by a guy. I’ve never actually met someone whom I wanted to date. There was a cute boy in school who I thought could be a good boyfriend, but I was a kid then. Apart from that, no man has ever caught my eye. That’s why I wasn’t really bothered when Benedikt was so strict about me not dating. It’s the reason I’ve only kissed one person, not even a proper kiss. And it’s the reason I’m still completely innocent and clueless about men.
But this man makes me question everything. He’s way too hot. Way too enticing.
The plane begins to move over the runway, and my body tenses.
I bite my lower lip during take-off. I might have to fake being scared for the kidnapping, but I genuinely don’t like flyingall that much. Not ideal for a girl who wants to travel the world and see everything, but it doesn’t make sense for a solid metal object to be able to float effortlessly through the air.
To distract myself, I think about the cool things I want to do with my time in Los Angeles.
My fingers dig into the soft pillow of the seat, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
Shopping.
Beaches. I can get a tan. Swim in the ocean.
I might even be able to sneak out and go to a club.
Cocktails at sunset.
Isn’t there a Disney park there?
The plane jolts and I yelp in fright. My eyes shoot open, and Ardalion is watching me closely.
"Don’t like flying?” he asks, the slightest trace of amusement in his voice.
I ignore his question.
“Where in LA do you stay?” I ask, my voice shaking.
“Beachside,” he replies, short and not giving much away.
“I’ve never been.”
“Your brother never comes to LA. He knows it’s my territory.”
