The Dare Collection April 2019. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
tired of waiting for you.’
She made another of those noises, then her lashes fluttered and she sighed, a sliver of green appearing as she opened her eyes.
Automatically, I searched her face for any signs of fear but there were none. Apparently, waking up to find me standing beside her bed wasn’t frightening or even all that surprising.
In fact, as her gaze found mine, that delicious velvety mouth turned up in a slow and sleepy smile.
She’s delectable.
The heat I’d been fighting tightened its grip.
‘Oh,’ she said, the word exhaled on a long, relieved-sounding breath. ‘Thank God. I was afraid you were a dream.’
‘I’m not a dream,’ I said flatly. ‘I’m a nightmare.’
She grinned then threw her arms above her head, stretching unselfconsciously in the sunlight like a sleepy cat. ‘No, you’re not. And it was definitely not a nightmare.’
The top of her dress dipped even lower, revealing lots of pale silky skin, and, despite myself, I couldn’t stop staring. My hands itched to tug that fabric down, to see what colour her nipples were and what they might taste like if I sucked on them.
‘Are you sure?’ I finally dragged my gaze from her chest, but looking into her eyes wasn’t any better. They were wide, the colour of new grass, and I caught a hint of her scent—roses and heat...
Delicious.
‘Oh, I’m sure.’ She blinked at me, apparently unaware of how close to the knife-edge I was. ‘I can even tell you about it if you want.’
‘I do not want.’ I kept my voice cold, trying to force away the ache in my groin. ‘What I would like is for you to listen. I have some things I need to say to you.’
‘Really?’ Her tongue crept out, small and pink, touching her top lip. The move wasn’t flirtatious but I was riveted anyway. ‘What things?’
I knew I should turn away, look at something other than that small pink tongue and soft mouth; that tiny mole near her upper lip; the pulse at the base of her pale throat.
But that would be to admit I wasn’t in control of this situation, that somehow she had the power here, and there was no way in hell I was doing that.
So I continued to stare at her. ‘Your father. I’ve told him I have you.’
Her gold-tipped lashes swept down, veiling her gaze. ‘Oh. I see.’ Slowly she pushed herself up so she was sitting on the bed, tugging up the top of her dress as she did so, which was probably a good thing considering the state of my damn cock. ‘And what did he say?’
‘I didn’t give him a chance to say anything. Once he’s got the message he’ll call me.’
She sat with her head bent, looking down at her hands twisted in her lap. Her pale hair lay over her shoulders and streamed down her back, gleaming in the sun like new minted gold.
There was a stillness to her now, that vibrating energy muted. ‘So what’s going to happen now then?’
‘What do you mean, what’s going to happen now?’ I frowned. ‘Nothing’s going to happen now. You’re my prisoner and you stay here. End of story.’
‘I don’t care about that.’ She lifted her head. ‘What I want to know is when you’re going to ruin me. I mean, that’s what you said you were going to do.’ Something that looked a lot like disappointment glittered in her eyes. ‘Or did you not mean it?’
Imogen
YES, I WAS disappointed and, even though I tried, I couldn’t hide it.
Last night when he’d shown me to my room and told me there was no point escaping because the whole house was surrounded by his men, I’d been expecting him to continue what he’d started with that kiss.
But he hadn’t. He’d pointed out the en suite bathroom then left.
It was a bit of an unhappy surprise after I’d decided that he was the perfect way to get my revenge on Dad.
I’d decided not to argue about it, though. I was tired anyway and consoled myself with the thought that maybe I could ask him about it the next day.
So I’d lain down on the bed fully dressed, shut my eyes and had gone out like a light.
It had been the best sleep I’d had in years, and that dream I’d had about him had really helped.
My very naughty dream.
I’d had sex dreams in the past, usually involving faceless men who would touch me and then walk away, leaving me hot and aching and restless with feelings I didn’t understand.
But not last night. Last night I’d dreamed I’d stayed in that van and this time the man wasn’t faceless. He had rough, blunt, handsome features and eyes the colour of a winter sky. And he’d watched me as I pulled up my dress, telling me what to do in his deep, harsh voice...
God, so hot. And now there was an ache between my legs, a throbbing heat. I wanted him to touch me, to make good on all the threats he’d delivered the night before, but, given the way he was standing there, the expression on his face utterly impassive, it was obvious he had no intention of doing so.
Dammit.
Did that mean that my one and only chance for getting back at Dad, of having any kind of choice about being with a man I wanted, was gone?
To make matters worse, Ajax looked unbelievably good in the white T-shirt and jeans he had on, the short sleeves exposing heavily muscled arms and inked olive skin. I hadn’t realised he was tattooed and I could barely drag my gaze from all those black lines snaking around his biceps and forearms. That and his beautiful mouth. And the way the cotton pulled over his broad chest...
I could barely drag my gaze from him, full stop.
He was just taunting me now, wasn’t he?
‘No.’ He crossed his arms across that incredible chest. ‘I didn’t mean it.’
It was strange to feel the hurt so personally, but I did.
‘So you lied,’ I said, only just stopping myself from crossing my arms too.
Ajax frowned, the mesmerising blue of his eyes sharpening. ‘I’m not sure I like your tone.’
I should have stopped arguing, but I wasn’t good at hiding my feelings and the disappointment was biting unexpectedly deep. ‘You told me you wanted me. Was that a lie?’
‘You should be more worried about the fact that you’re my prisoner, not whether or not I’m going to fuck you.’
I lifted my chin. ‘You know, for an ex-criminal mastermind, or whatever you are, you’re not very smart. I don’t care about being kidnapped or about being your prisoner.’
‘You should care.’
‘Why? I just wanted to get away from Dad and you helped me do that.’
‘I did not help you.’
I sniffed. ‘Whatever, dude. As far as I’m concerned, you got me away from Dad and that’s the only thing that matters to me.’
A muscle leapt in the side of his impressive jaw. ‘You don’t care that all you’ve done is swap cages?’
‘No. Anyway, you told me last night you’d let me go when Dad leaves Sydney.’ At least Ajax’s cage wouldn’t end up crushing me. Probably.
He stared at me for