Finally, after a long moment he speaks. “You are not a prisoner—”
I scoff, folding my arms across my chest. “Just because you put a wheel in my hamster cage doesn’t mean I’m not still a captive.”
He smirks. “Until I can trust you not to run from me, you will stay locked away.”
“I have to go back to work, Raziel.”
He waves me away as he turns and walks over to the chaise lounge. “You aren’t expected back at work for ten more days. They still think you’re on your honeymoon.”
How the hell does he know that?
“I’d hoped you’d come to accept this situation by the time you’re supposed to go back. But it’s up to you, Nasiah.”
He sits down on the lounge chair. Spreading his arms on the back of it, his legs gap open wide. The print on his thigh draws my attention. I quickly turn away from that demon dick. I want nothing to do with it.
His chuckle has me turning back to him.
“Let me ask you something,” I say, walking over to the sitting area and dropping down in the huge fluffy chair. “How do you see this playing out? What was your goal when you took me from my wedding?”
His eyes flash black when I mention my wedding. They quickly turn back to normal.
“I figured you’d be angry for a day or two. Then we’d fuck, and you’d be fine.”
He says it with so much conviction, I think he truly believed it would be that easy. I toss my head back and laugh.
“You can’t be serious?”
He shrugs. “I have a very convincing cock.”
Immediately my gaze drops to the print. My mouth waters, and I clench my thighs.
“I rebuke you, Satan.”I think against this desire that’s pressing on me to climb in his lap and ride him.
Clearing my throat, I refocus. “Convincing or not, you have to at least see where I’m coming from. I had planned my life to spend it with someone I know. Someone I took the time to fall in love with. Now you’re telling me I have to toss those plans aside and live out my life with a stranger?”
He shrugs. “Yes.”
Tossing my hands up, I roll my eyes. “Come on, Raziel. You don’t even know me.”
He leans forward. “I don’t need to know you. I know your soul.”
His reply has my next words dying on my tongue.
“You want me to know your favorite color and your favorite food,” he says, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “That’s all superficial. That shit changes with your mood. What I know is your soul, your heart’s desire. I know when you are truly happy, I can feel it in my chest.”
He places a hand to the area with a frown. “I know when you’re angry, sad, and when your body hums with arousal. I know what it feels like when you’re feeling overwhelmed and stressed. You are a part of me. I don’t need to know your favorite color, I just need to know what makes you happy.”
I’ve never been left speechless before. I’m sure Jamieson knows my favorite color. He could tell you my favorite flower and food, but not even he could tell you how I was feeling. Hell, he hardly ever asked.
“How is that possible?” I ask.
He leans back, taking his original position. “That day your mother summoned me, she asked me to save you. I knew her intentions were selfish, but when I stood over your basinet…” he pauses in his story. “You turned to look at me and, for the first time, I saw something I haven’t seen in a long time.”
Swallowing, I ask. “What did you see?”
His dark brown eyes stare back at me. “Home,” he simply says.
I wanted him to expand on that, but I was too nervous to ask.
