His irises are dark and bottomless, no emotion. No soul.
I suck in a small breath, trying to catch up to what is happening. The last time I met Ryker, he warned me that if I didn’t comply, he wouldn’t tell just my brother about my attempted theft, he’d involve the police.
This is his play. I feel it deep in my bones. He’s closing the cage.
My knees threaten to give out from under me. “Love?”
What Ryker is doing could not be any further from love.
“It’s time your brother knew the truth,” Ryker rumbles. “Don’t you think?”
Those words ring with a threat, a steel edge underneath his smooth baritone.
“The truth?”
“About our feelings. About the future,” he answers, a smile pulling at his lips even as his gaze remains distant and cold.
Is he trying…does he want me…
My own eyes grow impossibly big, the color surely draining from my face.
I look over at the wedding dress, still tucked in its bag, then I look back at him. His hand presses harder against the small of my back, a clear indicator that I am being guided, but I can’t make myself say the words he wants to hear so instead, I ask another question. “Our feelings?”
“I know how I feel about you,” he returns, the lines of his face growing harder, deeper.
“Sasha?” This from Ava. She sounds as uncertain as I feel which I appreciate.
“How do you feel about me?” I ask as I look back at the bag. I don’t need to look at his face to know what he’s going to say or what he wants.
It’s all clear in my mind.
“You have to know of my interest. Of my desire,” he rumbles low.
I do know of his interests and his desires. None of them are rooted in anything good for me. But I don’t really have much of a choice either. “I do.”
“And I’d like to believe that you share them.”
I don’t. Not at all. But his fingertips bite into my back, drawing my gaze back to his face.
I look into the dark depths of his eyes, every line on his face making it clear what he wants from me. And then he leans down in whispers in my ear, “This is my price.”
In my attempt to escape, I’ve been thoroughly and completely trapped. And if I don’t want to end up in prison, I’m going to have to live with a new jailer.
I don’t even realize I’ve started tapping against my stomach until his other hand covers mine.
“I want you to be my wife, Sasha.”
I can’t make my throat work as I begin to tremble. “Right now? Today?”
“Today.”
I draw in a jagged breath, knowing that if I say no, I’m at his mercy.
If I say yes, I’ve clicked the lock on my own cage.
My tongue darts out and I lick my lips. He catches sight of it, his gaze narrowing in, his whole body growing harder. His reaction makes it even more difficult to think, so I give one last look at the garment bag.
This is happening.
