Page 22 of His Obsession

“Take me home,” she said, her voice steadier now. “You’ve made your point. I’ll be more careful.”

Callum’s knuckles whitened. “You’re not going home.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Callum!”

Her raised voice grated on his already frayed nerves. He turned sharply onto a quiet side street, tires skidding slightly, before pulling into the underground garage of his private penthouse. The security gates closed behind them with an audibleclunk.

Isolde’s glare deepened as she undid her seatbelt and reached for the door handle. “You can’t just?—”

Callum was out of his seat and at her side before she could finish. He opened the door, and before she could protest, he grabbed her waist and tossed her over his shoulder in one smooth motion.

“Callum!” she shrieked, fists pounding against his back. “Put me down!”

He ignored her, carrying her effortlessly across the concrete floor, his strides purposeful. Her protests were muffled against his broad back, but he could hear every word: furious, breathless curses that would’ve amused him under other circumstances.

“You can argue all you want,mo chroí,” he said, his voice low and laced with dark amusement. “But I’ve had enough of your nonsense for one night.”

“Nonsense?” she sputtered. “You have no right—no right to kidnap me!”

“Saving your life isn’t kidnapping,” he replied as the elevator doors slid open. “It’s common sense.”

Her struggles intensified, her breath hitching when he stepped inside, and the doors shut. When one of her blows proved more painful than the others, Callum brought his hand up and smacked her backside sharply.

“Enough.”

“Bastard,” she cried, outraged.

“Brat. You do that again and you’ll find sitting down rather uncomfortable.”

He could feel her struggle with wanting to hit him again and the realization he wasn’t making an idle threat. Instead, she said, “You can’t just lock me away. I’m not some damsel you can throw in a tower.”

Callum’s lips twitched as he suppressed a grin, though his tone remained calm. “You’re not going anywhere until I know you’re safe. End of discussion.”

The penthouse was dark when they entered, the floor-to-ceiling windows revealing a glittering expanse of the Dublin skyline. Callum took the stairs two at a time, striding down the hall. He set Isolde down with a deliberate gentleness, though his hands lingered on her waist for more time than was absolutely necessary. The smack to her ass and her acquiescence, however reluctant, to his dominance was intoxicating. An image of Isolde bent over the back of his couch, her backside a fetching shade of pink from his discipline as he prepared to shove his hard cock into her wet and ripe pussy flashed before his eyes. When he looked at her, her cheeks were flushed, her chest rising and falling with her ragged breath.

“Take me home,” she said again, her voice softer now, though no less determined.

“No.”

She rounded on him, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “You can’t keep me here.”

“I can, and I will,” he said, stepping closer. He could see the mix of fear and anger swirling in her eyes, but there was something else, too—something that flared hotter every time he invaded her space. “You remember what I said. I let you get away with that temper tantrum downstairs due to the stress you’ve been under. I won’t excuse that behavior in the future. You’re under my protection now, Isolde. Whether you like it or not.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off with a low growl. “Do you think those men were out there by accident? Do you think Lynch doesn’t know exactly where you live, where you work, where you sleep? Are you willing to risk the foundation’s security team? They’re good for crowd controland to make a display, but in a firefight, I would be worried they’d shoot themselves or each other. Walsh is good, but not good enough… at least not good enough outside of your office building.”

She paled at his words, her shoulders stiffening.

Callum softened his tone just a fraction. “You’re staying here. And that’s final.” Callum opened a nearby door and gestured inside. “This will be your room. It locks from the inside if that makes you feel better. You’re free to leave it when you want—within the penthouse.I will arrange with Walsh to watch over you when I take you to the office. Don’t even think about trying to slip away again. Don’t test me, Isolde.”

The challenge in his eyes was impossible to ignore, and she didn’t seem ready to try. She turned and stalked into the room, slamming the door behind her. Callum grinned faintly at the sound.

Good. Let her be angry. Anger was better than fear.

The following days settled into a strange rhythm—one that Callum hadn’t expected but found himself oddly unwilling to disrupt.

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