Page 1 of His Virgin Wife

Chapter One

Emily Craven didn’t want to die.

Fear crawled up her spine as it had many times thesepast few months since she had been taken. She didn’t know how long it had been,only that time had passed. The sun had set, come back up, and set again.

Not that her prison was a bad one. She was prettysure prisons didn’t contain luxurious satin sheets, four-poster beds, and avanity table complete with an assortment of luxury-brand cosmetics she wouldn’tdream of ever affording.

Her mother had warned her. If she tried to build arelationship with her father, it would only end in failure. How right hermother was.

And how depressing her situation had become,though it wasn’t that bad. She had gone from working in a café during the dayand a bar at night, to serving one man—Dom Wylde.

She didn’t know a lot about him, other than rumorsof him not being a very nice person, and a lot of other things. She knew he washer father’s enemy.

Nigel Craven was her father, and he was not a verypatient man but also a hotheaded one. He was known for shooting first andasking questions later, and according to her mother, not very well-liked.

Dom, on the other hand, had the respect her fathercraved. She knew when his name was mentioned, men and women equally desired andfeared him, and that was what her father wanted.

She was trying to get to know her father. Herparents had long ago divorced, but at one time, she was pretty sure she hadloved her father. Her parents divorced when she was young, and she couldn’texactly fill in the blanks. Her father sent her gifts, when he remembered. Atleast, she thought he had.

It was nearing three months now, and still no signof her father. No ransom paid. She didn’t even know if Dom had asked for aransom to be paid. All she knew was one moment, she was climbing into her car,and the next, she was waking up in her current prison room, and waiting on DomWylde. She knew it wasn’t a bad setup.

He didn’t make any demands of her, nothing out ofthe ordinary. In fact, he got her to sit with him after she had finishedserving him. He demanded she spend time with him, so she ate with him.

And when he was done with his … whatever this was,he would send her to her room, until he needed her again.

It was driving her crazy, because each time shewas called to him, she couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the last nightor day of her life. She found it hard to focus.

All of her life, she’d been good—a good daughter,a good student, a good employee. She didn’t hurt people, nor was she mean toanyone. She tried her best at everything.

Now, she was trying to be a good kidnapped …person, or victim, or whatever the hell she was.

Once again, she descended the staircase and hopedafter all this time she’d get over these feelings. But alas, no. She was stillfreaking scared. Still upset. Still worried that when she walked into thedining room, he was going to kill her. She didn’t want to die. She had plans.

Not that they were very good plans, or evenenlightening. She wanted to meet someone, fall in love, have a family. One day,she hoped to be a mother. As an only child, she spent a lot of time thinkingabout having a brother or sister. That was why she wanted a dozen kids, or atleast four. She didn’t care if they were boys or girls, she just wanted them tobe healthy.

Also, she hoped to one day get a dog or two. Shewasn’t too fond of cats, but she adored dogs. Loved them.

She knew some people thought her wish for thefuture was lame and not very modern. Being a wife and a mother was nothing toscorn or to look down on. It was what she hoped for.

Her mother told her to aim higher. She wanted todo everything right. But she had no way of doing any of that while she wastrapped in this prison … although a very nice prison. Dom’s home was massiveand full of every luxury, including a pool, not that she had used it.

She didn’t make any demands. She hadn’t evenbegged him to let her live. Some people would think she was lame or a doormat.She wasn’t sure which she would be, probably a lame doormat, because that wasexactly how she felt. She was a lame doormat. If she died here, that would beon her headstone.

Stepping into the dining room, she spotted Dom. Hewas sitting at the head of the table, as usual. This was another littleproblem, and she wished there was something to hate about him.

She must have some serious daddy issues, becausehe was much older than her. She wasn’t sure by how much, but his thick, blackhair had a few streaks of grey. There was a maturity to him. Of course, shealso knew he was a man who did a lot of bad things. That was beside the point.Her father also did a lot of bad things.

Even still, she couldn’t get over the depth of hisbrown eyes. He made her nervous and curious whenever he looked at her. Therewere so many times she had to stop herself from asking what he was thinking.What kind of woman asked her kidnapper what he was thinking? With her lucklately, he was probably plotting her death. She being the nice kidnapped victimwould probably help him out. Stupid, lame doormat.

“Your food is ready,” Dom said, without looking upfrom his cell phone.

She paused as he moved, and lifted the silvercover on her plate. “Oh, I thought you wanted me to serve you.”

There was no gun, no knife, and none of hissoldiers were in the room to … hurt her. She was going to live another day.

“You took too long,” he said.

“I’m sorry.” She gritted her teeth together. Whywas she saying that? See, stupid lame doormat.

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