Page 18 of Captured By Fate

She's a dichotomy - this mixture of resilience and fragility. It's fascinating...and incredibly alluring. I can't take my eyes off her. The sight of her wearing my shirt, standing in my home like she belongs here, does something inexplicable to me. My breath quickens, slightly, catching Vince’s attention.

“Control, huh?” he seems unimpressed, waltzing to the table as he forks a croissant onto a plate clumsily.

Kelley fights back a smile, something else that I can’t ignore as the sun lights her face. She exudes a raw sensuality, a mesmerizing blend of innocence and defiance. I intended to conquer her, but at this moment, I feel disarmed.

"Join me for breakfast, Vince," I say briskly, gesturing to the elegant spread on the table.

Vince sits, eyeing Kelley warily as he piles food onto his plate. "So this is the little hellcat giving you trouble, eh Jackson?"

Kelley bristles, shooting him a defiant glare, as she stuffs a corner of croissant into her mouth. "I'm no one's hellcat."

I chuckle, amused by her fiery spirit. "She's a feisty one. But I have the situation under control." I give Kelley a pointed look that silences any retort.

"Clearly not in control enough if she's strutting around half-naked.” Vince scoffs through a mouthful of food, his lecherous gaze raking over Kelley.

Kelley crosses her arms, disgust flashing in her eyes. "I don't strut for creeps like you," she snaps.

I laugh heartily. "She's got quite the tongue on her too. I intend to tame that along with the rest of her." I catch Kelley's wrist as she moves to slap me, desire flickering in her glare.

"I'd pay to see you try to tame this one," Vince jokes crassly.

Kelley wrenches her arm from my grip. "I won't be tamed by any man," she hisses, her defiant words hanging in the air between us.

I grin slowly. I do enjoy a challenge.

11

KELLEY

Abiting cold stings my skin as I pull the blanket tighter around myself, unwilling to wake myself from whatever the hell that was last night.

Memory slaps me before any sight or sound. Though light tugs at the corners of my eyes, I make the conscious decision to close them tighter, turning back the scenes that led me here.

Fucking Vince.

As if Jackson and his never-ending need to assert control weren’t enough to deal with, my mind keeps jumping back to the idiot that led me here. If it weren’t for him, I’d be safe in bed, probably wearing pajamas.

Yet even with my naked form, hiding inside the sanctifying warmth of these covers, my memory traces back to the look on Jackson’s face. With every article of clothing that fell, he seemed to show more than just delight. Crazy as it sounds, and prisoner though I am, I feel the familiar surge of warmth spreading inside me.

Once, he bit his lip, when the lace of my panties slid down my hips. I saw it, like a humble submission of guilt. I know he’s the kind of man who needs to feel in control, but maybe he has tells of his own. I shudder, the warmth spreading into my pelvis at the thought of his hands on me again, and exploring the edges of where his dominance lies.

I open my eyes slowly, sunlight filtering in through the curtains of the opulent guest bedroom. I sit up reluctantly, holding the sheet around myself.

My clothes from last night are gone—no doubt confiscated by Jackson to assert his control. The thought of him undressing me while I was unconscious makes my skin crawl.

The click of the door opening draws my attention. One of the maids enters carrying a pile of clothes. She tells me politely but firmly that Mr. Corel requires me to wear these today. I eye the clothes warily, but I know defiance will get me nowhere here.

“He requests that you come downstairs as soon as you are dressed.”

Once the maid leaves, I reluctantly pick through the items Jackson has provided.

“A t-shirt?” I scoff, holding it up, wondering what it’s supposed to cover. But if this is the way he wants to play, what choice do I have?

I throw it over myself and look in the mirror, adjusting my short hair as best I can.

Shaking my head, I know I have to be smarter if I plan to get out of this one. A smart girl would just give in, give him the girl he wants.

But I’m no one’s plaything.

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