Page 90 of Damsel in Disguise

My pulse roars in my ears, yet my expression remains still.

“Would you happen to know if someone else has been using your vehicle without your consent?”

My jaw clenches.

“I’d prefer a verbal answer, Miss Keinston. Yes or no?”

The repetition of my name grates against my nerves.

“No.”

“You’re welcome to be honest,” he adds lightly. “We might be able to resolve this misunderstanding together.”

I silently stare at him, holding his ocean-blue gaze, refusing to give him anything more.

“Was it you?”

No response from my side.

He chuckles.

My teeth grind together. Before I can react, he steps around the desk, closing the distance behind me. Alistair leans over my shoulder, his large frame engulfing mine.

This shouldn’t mean anything to me.

But when the heat of his body seeps through my shirt, my entire body goes hyper-aware without my permission.

His breath brushes against the shell of my ear. “I like that it has always been you, Miss Keinston,” he murmurs, pressing his front flush against my back.

29. REMINDER

ariella

The implication settles heavily in my chest. It’s something worse than a mere threat.

Shivers run down my spine from the immediate contact.

I feel him—hard, insistent—through the layers of fabric. My throat tightens, attempting to swallow nothing.

So he’s been the one pulling the strings from the beginning—trying to manipulate me into believing I had the upper hand. For how long has he known?

“Get away from me, Alistair.”

“I love the way my name sounds in your fake British accent,” amusement bleeds through his voice.

“Let go,” I grumble, twisting in his hold, trying to break free, but it only worsens the situation.

My body grinds back against him in the process, with the fabric of my skirt riding higher.

The friction pulls a sharp breath from my lungs, heat flaring low and fast.

“We can still pretend nothing happened between us.”

“Keep that up, and I might fuck you right here and now,” his voice drops, rougher now.

His hips deliberately nudge forward in emphasis. It sends a pulse of heat straight to my core.

“We’ve cameras in here,” I hate the way my voice wavers, the lack of certainty bleeding through the threat.