Page 50 of Something Borrowed

She sighs loudly when she climbs out of the car, reminding me she’s mad at me.

I slip my arm around her waist walking up the steps towards the front door. She doesn’t push me away. If she was that angry with me she would have shoved my hand away right away.

I see it as a good sign.

She has a right to be angry, anyway. I locked her in the trunk of my car to drive her out of Las Vegas without causing too much of a scene. I couldn’t have her sitting on the front seat trying to open the door and roll out or something ridiculous like that - something I one hundred percent would expect from her.

She steps into my home, which is now her home too.

I close and lock the door behind us.

“The entire place is a fortress, my love. You are free to escape - but I assure you it won’t be possible.”

“We’ll see about that.” She hisses, then marches up the stairs. “Where can I find a shower?” She blurts out, glaring over her shoulder at me.

“Second room on the right. You’ll also find a full closet of clothing in your size.”

Her mouth drops open. “How long have you been planning this, Red?”

Cute. She called me by my nickname. That means she’s still into me.

I grin.

“Since you told me your father had booked your flight to Europe.”

Verity blinks several times in quick succession. Her mouth still hanging open in shock. Then she shakes her head and storms away.

I better give her some time to herself. At least, now that we’re home, I don’t have to worry about her going anywhere.

The next few days test my patience in ways I never imagined were possible.

Verity is a nightmare.

She’s like a little demon temptress running wild in my house.

She fights with me, provoking me every chance she gets. And she’s damn good at it. She knows what she’s doing.

Then she taunts me with her body and makes me forget why I was getting angry in the first place.

Every conversation is around the fact that I forced her to marry me and I am now holding her prisoner and not letting her live her life. She doesn’t seem to get that the moment I let her go - her father is going to send her away. She should appreciate what I’ve done for her - not be fighting me on it.

I’m standing in front of the coffee machine, waiting for it to finish making my cappuccino. It’s late, and I’ve already had too many of these today, but I need one more. I’ll call it a coping mechanism. The caffeine helping me stay a little sharper to deal with this new challenge.

“You tricked me. You forced me to marry you.” She snaps.

I turn to face her, my fists clenched at my side.

“I didn’t force you to do anything. No one held a gun to your head.” I snarl, glaring down at her. She is standing with her hands on her hips and that look on her face that confuses the hell out of me because it annoys me and turns me on at the same time.

Her little nose is scrunched up and her lips are pouted out as she throws me a look of pure thunder. They always told me dynamite comes in small packages. But Verity is more like a nuclear weapon waiting to detonate in my life.

“You didn’t evenask me.And - and -andIwasso drunk. I was in no state to be making important decisions that affect therest of my life.”

“And and and.” I roll my eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” She punches my arm.

I chuckle and her eyes flare darker.

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