Page 47 of Until I Own You

I turn toward it.

Seth is standing at the door to the Underground. He’s just locked the door, made it impossible for anyone outside to disturb us.

Whatever this is.

Seth looks at me, blue eyes penetrating to my most secret depths. My most coveted wants.

“You brought me here,” I say.

“I’m glad you’ve caught on.”

“Why?” I have a guess, but I wouldn’t want to make a fool of myself.

Seth pauses, leaves enough of a gap in the conversation for me to fall into. “Why did I bring you here?”

“Why did you trick me? That text, how did you–”

“I had Hazel send that off before dismissing her,” he says. “In fact, everyone has been dismissed.”

I stare at him and lord, he looks nice. Suit and tie, the kind of Dom that will be a perfect gentleman in the light of day and behind closed doors, tie me up and whip me into submission.

Where did that thought come from?

I’ve had thoughts like that before, but they’ve all been paired with mental apologies. This thought drove a stake into my middle, pinning me to my want, making sure I don’t back away.

And hell, I’m not backing away.

Not now.

Maybe not ever again.

“We’re alone, Bridget.”

“Yes, I realize that…” I tighten the bag of fabric to my shoulder.

Seth’s brow tenses for a moment.

“Why do you want me alone, Seth?” I’ll make him spell it out. I want to know what happened in the library wasn’t a fluke of love drunkenness or real drunkenness.

His Adam’s apple bobs, the strong defined lump creeping up and back down.

“I’ll be brief.” Seth walks toward me. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Not just since the wedding. I’ve never been able to stop thinking about you. Since the moment we met.”

The gears in my brain gridlock.

What did he just say?

Seth stares at me. “Say something, Bridget.”

This can’t be real. I’ve either stepped into an alternate universe or Seth is screwing with me.

I don’t mean to laugh, but I do. A weak one. A defense mechanism. “You’re playing a joke on me.”

His dark brows scrape down his forehead and his gaze intensifies. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

My muscles all want to turn to jelly but I remain resolute.

I spin around, trying to spy hidden cameras or anyone watching from the sidelines holding in laughter. “This…if you’re trying to make a fool of me–” My eyes well with tears. “This will be the worst thing you’ve ever done to me. This will–”

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