Page 6 of Forbidden Pawn

“I will take this,” I announce — and she responds with an exasperated gasp.

“Why?” she moans. “Do you seriously think I might attack you with my mini shampoo bottle?”

She’s shaking her head at my paranoia.

“I don’t know what’s in this, do I?” I challenge her. “I’m not risking you having access to poison—”

“Poison?” she exclaims, followed by another round of laughter. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“That’s how women kill,” I tell her. “Everyone knows that.”

Her lips part as if she was going to say something, but she refrains from doing so and watches in silence while I continue to go through her stuff. Other than the hairbrush and the toiletries, it seems to be nothing but comfortable clothes, loose fitting jogging pants, leggings, and sweaters. I freeze when I produce a bundle of lace panties in black, and hurry to stuff them back at the bottom of the bag. I can’t stop the heat from rushing through my core and all the way to my crotch, where my cock awakens with attention when I picture her delicate frame in nothing but these panties.

Why would she pack something like this? Did her brothers send her to seduce me and get something else out of me?

“Please don’t take my e-reader,” she says, looking at me with a worried expression.

“Your what?”

She points at the open bag. “My e-reader. I need something to do while I’m your prisoner.”

My gaze follows to where she’s pointing and I notice the black device pushed against the side of the back. I retrieve it to have a better look. What if they have done something to this, so she can communicate with her brothers without me knowing about it? I will have my tech guy look at it before I can leave it with her.

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to take this, too.”

She lets out an anguished groan. “What? Why? What am I supposed to do all this time?”

“This is not a vacation,” I remind her. “You’ll do whatever I tell you to do.”

I send her a stern look and notice the minor tremor in her lower lip when she stares back at me. Her eyes are wide andher chest is heaving with erratic breaths as she tries to maintain composure.

She’s afraid of me.

Good.

Chapter 4

June

Maybe this was all a terrible idea.

This thought has been popping up inside my head ever since he took me with him. I wanted this; I planned for this, but now that I’m here, I’m crippled with fear and doubt. And when I get uncomfortable like this, I make dumb jokes. Silliness has always been my way of coping with difficult situations, but that trait could get me into serious trouble with him. It’s just so hard to shake off my defense mechanism.

I’m sitting in a chair in the corner of his office, hands folded in my lap and my heart pounding, while I watch him work at his desk. He hasn’t looked in my direction once since he sat down, keeping his eyes glued to the documents before him.

The interior of his office is upscale but minimalistic. The furniture is sleek, dominated by the large dark wood desk that starkly contrasts with the light floor. Behind Ryker, floor-to-ceiling windows offer a panoramic view of the city skyline, twinkling like distant stars, while my boredom wraps its weary arms around my shoulders.

I expected him to search my things, so I didn’t even try to bring my phone with me. It wasn’t easy to leave it behind and be cut off from the world, even if it might just be for a couple of days. Though my roommate Tracey is probably the only person in the world who is aware of my absence, since I’m not working at the moment. For the past year, I have been living off of my father’s money and the payout of his life insurance, which he set up when I was still a baby. He prepared for his death long before it happened, and he made sure I’d be okay. I’ve been taking in a roommate to cut down my cost of living, but Tracey and I neverbecame close. I told her I was going on a quick trip and might be hard to reach, but I doubt she even cares.

When I first plotted my revenge, I approached the Reid brothers intending to hire them to kill Ryker, even though a part of me knew I could never be a murderer, even if I was just the person to commission the kill order. It didn’t feel like the right way to spend what’s left of my inheritance. As I talked to them, we came up with a better plan—something that wouldn’t have to involve murder.

And now I’m here, watching him as he occasionally twirls a silver pen through his fingers, seemingly deep in thoughts. His desk is remarkably uncluttered, with only his laptop, a few stacked files, and something that looks like a black jewel—probably a paperweight.

I can’t stop myself from studying him, noting the sharp line of his jaw and the casual fall of his dark hair. He combed through it with his fingers several times since we got here, so it’s a lot more ruffled than it was a couple of hours ago—and I hate how good that looks on him. He’s disturbingly interesting.

Still, I hate him with every fiber of my being. It doesn’t matter how good his fucking hair looks, or how well defined his upper arms appear to be, stretching the material of his shirt as he supports himself on his elbows. It doesn’t matter that his smell made me dizzy with confusion when he bent over to fasten my seatbelt—such a ridiculous move. It felt protective, but I know it wasn’t. He just wanted to take control of the situation. Men like him always do.

I let out an audible sigh, and he arches an eyebrow as he looks at me from under his brows.

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