Her hair is wet again, glistening in the morning sun filtering through the windows.It has moistened her shirt too, the thin black fabric clinging to her skin, outlining her perfect, round breasts in a way that’s gonna drive me insane if I don’t touch them.She’s so sexy, much hotter than she realizes.Even the dark scowl on her face is hot.
“I suppose you’re taking me back into captivity now,” she says.
I nod and get off the bed, enjoying the color rising in her cheeks as she checks me out, while trying to hide it.
“You and I, we got no choice but to go back,” I tell her.“But I’m sure we’ll find a way to make the most of our time in that bedroom.”
I wink at her, and she blushes harder, her cheeks now the color of ripe peaches.She scoffs and turns away from me.But at least she’s not telling me she hates me.I’m gonna count that as a win.
A quick shower later, I’m dressed and ready to go.She doesn’t argue.Doesn’t ask me for the phone she bought last night and lets me carry her purse, which now contains my bloody shirt too.
The boardwalk is almost empty of tourists, except for some of those sporty types on bikes and roller skates.If I squint, this place almost reminds me of Venice Beach.I can’t wait to take her for a stroll there.It’ll be a much better time when I get to do that.
Heaps of garbage from last night’s parties—empty bottles of all kinds, broken or otherwise, clothes, shoes, bags, and wrappers of all sorts—are littering the street despite the army of street cleaners digging away at it.
Her black and gold dress is still hanging off the dumpster in the alley where she left it and where I found it last night.I see her notice it as we pass, but instead of blushing, her face turns as white as a ghost’s.
“I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if you hadn’t found me last night,” she says.
“Nothing good.”
“Thank you.”
She quickens her steps as though trying to run from the first normal thing she’s said to me in a while.I could get used to hearing her thank yous.
“If you hadn’t tried to run, none of that would’ve happened.”
She shoots me a look over her shoulder that is far from grateful.
“What did you expect me to do?”
A street cleaner with his trolley is blocking off most of the sidewalk, and I pull her along as I sidestep it.Just in case all this talk of running away gives her any new ideas.It’s one of those instinctive urges that surprised me more than it did her.
“You could just let me and my sister go,” she says.“I’d be even more thankful to you for that.”
“After what happened last night?”I ask, keeping my arm around her shoulders because it feels good.“The world’s full of assholes like that and you are not ready to live in it alone.”
“I’d prefer to try than be a prisoner,” she says, stepping out of my embrace.But I pull her back.
“You’re not my prisoner,” I say.“You’re my woman.And as soon as I can, I’m gonna marry you.But not until I can give you the kind of life you deserve.”
“And if I don’t want to marry you?”
We’ve reached the hotel where I had to leave the car last night and I’m happy to see that neither the doorman nor the security guards inside the cool, nearly empty lobby were on duty last night when she ran and I had my meltdown.
I fish the key to the Lambo from my pocket and steer her in the direction of the elevators that lead to the garage.No one gives us more than a passing glance.Thank God.
“My curse will get you now that you said you’ll marry me,” she says once we’re in the elevator.She’s pouting at me, probably offended that I ignored her question.
“Your curse doesn’t scare me.As I told you before.”
“It should.”
I wrap her in my arms, pinning her against the wall, and kiss her.In her shock, she forgets to keep her mouth closed, lets me kiss her deep, even kisses me back.
But the door dings open before the kiss starts to get even better than that.
“The only thing that scares me is not being able to kiss you like that,” I tell her as I lead her out of the elevator.
