Page 7 of Tangled Roses

“Advil, Miss Adams. Take them and follow me.”

“Where?”

He nods toward the table and raises his eyes, shifting so his jacket falls open, revealing a large weapon strapped against his side.

He frowns as I jump to attention and grab the pills, chucking them down my throat, and washing them down with the ice cold water.

“Follow me.”

“Where?”

I really wish my voice would shut the fuck up because every word I speak only antagonizes him more.

He says nothing and merely points to the door and as I tentatively move toward it, he heads through before me.

My heart thumps because this could be my only way out of here and I should take note of where I am, along with any exits, potential weapons, and methods of escape, because one thing is certain, this man means business.

As I follow him, I gaze in awe at my surroundings, noting the theme continues. White is absolutely everywhere, and it almost blinds me. Chic elegance with zero color. Almost as if the owner of this house couldn’t decide on a color palette and opted out of the decision. The only dark thing in this house is the man striding purposefully in front of me and against my better judgment, I say tentatively, “What’s happening? Where am I?”

The bastard ignores me and I scurry to keep up with him, wondering if I should attempt to run the other way because it’s doubtful he would see me, anyway. He hasn’t looked back once, but then I am reminded he sees everything courtesy of the mirrors that are dotted around like ornamental security cameras.

He leads me down a huge white marble staircase and I see nothing but white before my eyes and as we step onto the white marbled floor, I am really beginning to detest the color white.

Would it kill them to add a splash of color here and there? I mean, what is this place?

My eager eyes search for an exit and yet all I find are endless closed doors that don’t appear to be the main ones. This is a rabbit warren, and I wouldn’t be able to find my way back to that delightful room if I tried.

We finally stop outside another white door, glazed with glass that obscures the view inside. My nerves are on edge when he pushes it open and says shortly, “Your guest, Boss.”

Boss? Who is this and as he stands to one side and I move past him into the room, I really wish I was anywhere else but here because the man staring at me with an angry glare scares the freaking pants off me.

CHAPTER 4

ARMAN

Istare with interest as my captive makes her way into the room and I’m pleasantly surprised.

She is a natural beauty I’m not used to seeing. Long chestnut hair that hangs straight and yet gleams as the light catches it. Flawless skin and light brown eyes that sparkle against the flush of pink stinging her cheeks. Her lashes fan the flames and she is sucking on her luscious lips with nerves, her fingers clenching at her sides as she moves uncertainly into the room.

I allow my gaze to linger on her shapely hips, her waist narrow and trim, showing she’s a woman who takes care of herself.

I like that. In fact, I like what I see a lot because if nature crafted a masterpiece, I imagine Gabrielle Adams was the result.

“Miss Adams, please take a seat.”

I’m abrupt and businesslike as always and gesture to the opposite end of the table that gleams in the shadows of the last remaining rays of the sun.

She drops into the seat and I nod toward the water set in front of her.

“Drink, you will be dehydrated.”

She says nothing and yet as she grasps the crystal tumbler, she stares at it as if it’s a poisoned chalice and, as I take my seat, I say impatiently, “It’s just water. Drink it.”

I watch with a weird fascination as she wraps those lips around the glass and stares at me through curious eyes.

“Your life is in danger.”

The glass freezes against her lips as I come straight to the point.

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