“Isn’t it obvious?” he finally answered.
I let out a short laugh. “No.”
“Well, then, you’ll see.” That promise shivered over my skin. “Here. Drink this.”
I batted the water bottle away. “Oh, hell no!”
That full upper lip curled. A sound, more animal than human, rumbled from him. “Amanda, drink.”
“You’ve stalked me for weeks.” I held up my fingers to count. “You drugged my fiancé. You tied me up—” I didn’t want to admit he gave me the best orgasm of my life, so I skipped to the next crime “—you drugged me, which meant I missed an important day at work. You sabotaged my wedding, and now,now!You’ve kidnapped me.”
“Don’t forget the sauna,” he muttered, leaning back to collect the water bottle from the back seat.
The car careened.
I planted my hands on the side panel and dash, stifling a scream.
The car stopped with a jerk, brakes whining.
The masked man leaned over. His dark energy ate up the already small space of the cab’s interior.
“You’ll figure it out eventually, so I’ll only tell you this once.” He shoved the water bottle into my lap. “When I tell you to do something, you do it. From today until death do us part. Got it?”
I debated uncapping the plastic bottle and squirting it in his face.
Those midnight eyes narrowed behind the mask. “Don’t.”
“What?” I shrugged.
“Whatever it is that’s forming in that smart head of yours.” He leaned further, and the scent of leather, smoke, and sin filled my lungs. “Don’t do it.”
“What’s in the bottle?” I snapped.
“Drink it and find out.”
This space between us felt dangerous. There was a wild, reckless part of me that wanted to defy him. I wanted to push him to the edge, see the beauty of such a beast snapping. But that was the same deranged side that craved being tied and feasted on, and that didn’t end so well for me.
Slowly, I turned the plastic cap. He tracked every movement as I drew the bottle to my lips. Salty water spread over my tongue.
I coughed. “What the hell is this?”
“Electrolytes. You haven’t been taking care of yourself.” Satisfied that I had taken a sip, he sat back in his seat, restarted the engine, and depressed the clutch as he shifted into gear.
Good lord, the way he drove was sexy. I continued to sip the water, realizing how thirsty I was, as I watched him maneuver the car. It had been an age since I drove a car, even longer since I drove a stick shift. There was something about the scene that made me ache.
He called me Mandy.
A long-forgotten name was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it with another healthy gulp of water. Somehow, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand thethought of finding out the man behind the mask wasn’t the man who belonged to that forgotten name.
The road curved away from the sea. In minutes, we pulled in front of a small church. A statue of the Madonna, framed with flowers, stood in an alcove, looking the picture of grace, but it wasn’t like the Holy Virgin was going to help a Protestant who didn’t attend church.
As we left the car, a priest ambled out from inside. “Ah! Right on time, the witnesses are already inside.”
Great. The man of God was in league with the masked devil. That was the final nail in the coffin of my life.
“Wait, what witnesses?” I blurted out, rounding on the devil looming behind me.
“For your marriage, my child,” the priest supplied.
