Page 42 of The Deal

He’s full-on laughing now, which only makes me angrier. The sound of his amusement grates on my nerves, making my frustration boil over even more.

“Oh, sweetbella, your threats don’t scare me.”

He lets go of the handle and takes a step back, a smug look spreading across his face. He’s so pleased with himself that he doesn’t notice me grab the shower nozzle from its holder.

By the time he realises what I’m doing, it’s too late. I’ve opened the door and aimed it at him, dousing him with the same ice-cold water already soaked through my pyjamas.

“Fuck,” he yells, pouncing on me as he tries to wrestle it from my hands.

“Not funny now, is it, arsehole,” I say over a laugh.

We’re both panting when he finally manages to pry the nozzle from my hands. It slips from my grip and dangles loose, spraying water across the side of the glass enclosure. I’m just relieved it’s no longer aimed at me.

I gulp in some much-needed air, trying to steady my breathing. He takes another step forward, pushing me back into the tiles. His forefinger and thumb firmly grip my chin, and he tilts my head back until our eyes meet.

“Are you proud of yourself?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

“Very,” I reply, straightening my spine, refusing to back down.

His face is so close to mine that I can feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over my skin every time he exhales.

We stand there, frozen in place, eyes locked, neither ofus willing to look away. He’s so damn handsome it almost feels like a crime. His hair is damp, the strands dark and heavy across his forehead. There’s a single droplet of water clinging to the curve of the dimple in his chin. It takes all my willpower not to lean in and catch it with my tongue, but I manage to keep the impulse in check—barely.

“Chloe,” he breathes, his voice low, his face drawing nearer.

“Yes?” I whisper, though the flutter in my stomach already knows what’s coming.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he murmurs, and his lips are on mine before my mind can fully process the words.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been kissed, but it’s been a long time since I’ve let anyone put their lips on me—years, in fact. And damn, can this man kiss. He devours my mouth like a parched man in the desert, his hunger undeniable, pulling me deeper into the kiss as if he can’t get enough.

I can feel his erection growing against my stomach, and that’s enough to snap me out of my haze.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want this, but this man is my kidnapper, so I need to halt things before it goes any further.

Am I suffering from a case of Stockholm syndrome?

“Stop,” I say, my voice strained as I place my flattened hands on his chest and push him back, trying to regain control of my thoughts and my damn body.

He draws his face back, arching one of his brows. “You don’t want this?” he asks.

“No. I hate you, remember.”

“Your body tells me differently,bella.” He glances down at my nipples that are trying to break through the thin fabric of my pyjamas as he speaks.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. You just doused me in ice-cold water; what do you expect? My nipples are so hardright now I could take out one of your eyes with these if I wanted to.”

He throws his head back and starts laughing again, and I despise that I like this easygoing side of him.

I use this moment to slip around him and exit the bathroom, heading straight out of his room and back into mine. I haven’t been in here since the escape, but I need distance and stat.

Chapter 15

Alexander

Three days have passed since the shower incident, and things have essentially returned to normal. Chloe is back in her bedroom, and I’m once again heading to work on my own.

She moved in there of her own accord, which is probably for the best. A part of me misses waking up to find her in my arms. I slept more soundly than I had in years with her beside me. I usually only average five hours a night—if I’m lucky—but I found myself sleeping right through with her there.

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