Page 79 of Promise Me Forever

“Amelia, stop.” His voice isn’t exactly louder, but it’s definitely dripping with that authoritative do-what-I-say-without-question-or-I’ll-take-it-out-on-your-assquality he does so well.

I stop in my tracks and spin to face him. His car, which was crawling along beside me, stops too. Car horns blare from behind it, and Drake shows zero sign of being the slightest bit perturbed about bringing the busy traffic to a standstill. He’s a selfish ass crack as well as an arrogant one.

The window slides the rest of the way down. “Get in the car.”

A muscle in his jaw pulses, and I scowl back at him, rainwater dripping down my face. “No.”

“Get. In. The. Car.”

I fold my arms across my chest and glare at him while pedestrians hurriedly circle around me. “I believe I’m off the clock, Mr. James, which means you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

His features darken. The car door swings open, and he jumps out and stands right in front of me. I stay fixed to the spot, though. He can glare at me all he likes; he doesn’t intimidate me. What’s he going to do? Fire me?

His powerful hand cups my jaw, and he squeezes hard enough to let me know that he’s not playing around. We’re still close to the office. Anyone could see us out here, but I refuse to back down. I don’t see why I should. He’s been a bastard all day long, and I’ve done nothing to deserve it.

I glare right back at him, defiant even though he has my face clasped in his hand, and I hope he can feel every ounce of rageI throw at him. For a few seconds, he doesn’t speak. He simply stares at me, his dark eyes trying to pierce my soul. Rain quickly soaks his thick hair and the shoulders of his suit jacket.

Why does he have to be so infuriatingly hot? Fighting against my attraction to him is hard, but he’s been a giant asshole. I’m entitled to be angry and hurt.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks. “Get in this car right now, or I swear to god, I will put you over my knee and spank your ass in the middle of the street.”

My cheeks flush hot, and my breath catches in my throat as I process his threat. Part of me wants to call his bluff, see if he’d really do it. But the rational part of my brain knows better. Drake James always follows through on his promises, especially the dangerous ones. “You wouldn’t dare,” I snap, aware my voice lacks any real conviction.

His grip on my jaw tightens slightly. “Try me.”

We stand toe-to-toe, locked in a silent battle of wills as the rain pours down around us. Pedestrians continue to stream by, some openly staring at our confrontation. A particularly loud horn blares behind Drake’s car. With a frustrated sigh, I wrench my face from his grip. “Fine,” I spit out. “But only because I don’t want to cause a scene.”

A triumphant smirk plays at the corners of his mouth as he steps aside, gesturing toward the open car door. I stomp past him, my heels clicking angrily on the wet sidewalk and my blister burning like the surface of the sun. As I slide across the plush leather seat, I feel a mix of irritation at letting him win so easily and relief at being out of the rain and off my feet. Not that he’s won. Getting in the car doesn’t mean I forfeit.

Drake climbs in after me and presses the intercom button to tell Constantine to move. The car pulls smoothly into traffic as I sit rigidly, staring straight ahead so I can avoid looking at him.Thanks to the privacy screen between us and the front seat, I could stab him with my nail file and get away with it.

“You’re soaked,” he observes, his low, dangerous tone sending a shiver down my spine.

I refuse to look at him. “That’s quite the deduction, Einstein. What gave it away?”

He chuckles, and I hate that he’s amused. “Your sharp tongue is still intact, I see.”

“My sharp tongue is the least of your concerns right now.” I finally turn to face him and find his dark eyes fixed on me, intense and unreadable.

“Is that so?” he asks. “And what, pray tell, should be my primary concern, Miss Ryder?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “How about the fact that you just threatened to spank me in public? Or that you’re essentially kidnapping me right now?”

Drake leans back in his seat, looking infuriatingly relaxed. I know how good he is at faking that, though. The man often comes across as being made of stone, no matter how much turmoil he’s in underneath the surface. “Kidnapping? That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think? I’m offering you a ride home.”

“A ride I explicitly refused,” I remind him.

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’m a persistent man, Amelia. You should know that by now.”

Persistent? Is that another word for asshole?

I roll my eyes and turn away from him, focusing on the rain-streaked window. Right now, I’m not sure I know him at all. This thing between us has been an emotional rollercoaster, and I’m growing weary of being stuck on the crazy ride. Maybe I’m still dealing with some residual stress from the situation with my mom, but I’m tired of all the sneaking around. Of the power plays. Of him blowing so hot and cold. One day, he’s fucking me on his desk and telling me I’m his; the next, he’s blanking mein front of his family. I thought I could deal with it, but this is impossible.

The city lights blur as we drive through the streets, the silence in the car growing thicker with each passing moment. I am not going to crack, and I will not cry. I won’t give him the satisfaction of telling him how I feel. I will treat this as a free Uber, and he will not be getting a five-star rating.

“My dad had another heart attack,” he announces. I try to stay silent because, really, why should that matter to me? I’m only the secretary. I sneak a glance at him, see the pain on his handsome, rain-soaked face. Shit. I can’t ignore that.

“But he looked fine earlier. When did it happen?”

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