Page 11 of His Little Spitfire

Love is a strong word. That guy is obsessed with my sister.

I try to imagine Urzo feeling anything but anger and annoyance for me. Something like what’s in that book he’s tossing to the side.

Before I can think too deep, he’s moving to stand. “We’ve got our hands on the papers. It’s time to sign.”

“Can’t even say please.” Rolling my eyes, I look at the door and chew on my lip.

Bia’s put ideas in my head now. She’s making me want to know what’ll happen if I run away from this man.

He’d try to make an example out of my actions, I’m sure. He wouldn’t chase me.

Fisting my hands tight enough to dig my nails into my palms, I don’t allow myself to think otherwise. Moving to stand, I straighten my shoulders.

I’m still in control. I don’t want to marry this man. Even if he barks out the order, no matter what, I won’t do it.

I won’t sign those papers.

5

Urzo

Finding her in the library had to be my testing point. I don’t know what I thought I’d do, but I knew I had to do something to teach her not to leave my side when I directly told her to stay put.

I’m too on edge, unable to make up my mind when it comes to her. Just when I think I’m fine with her leaving my side, I’m demanding she stay close.

Her disobedience is a trigger; it’s only natural that I react when she doesn’t listen.

The sensation that gripped my heart after finding her missing had left a need to rip the weakness straight out of my chest.

I wanted her to apologize, and promise me she wouldn’t do it again. In my mind, I pictured her on her knees, pleading with me to forgive her. Sure, my cock may have been involved, but that’s not important.

Instead, once I found her sleeping on that leather couch, my anger sizzled out like a candle blown out.

Sleeping so easily shows that she must have been exhausted.

I bet she needed her nap more than she cared to admit. So, I let her sleep. Let her murmur her soft words and watched her face morph into a peace I could never recreate.

This woman is intoxicating, and it’s driving me mad.

With Tommy’s success, I waited as patiently as one can to make her my wife.

So foolish, I thought I didn’t care that she wouldn’t want me even after she signed her name. She’d bemine.

Now that I’ve got her in this cramped room, one used for visiting families and family meetings, I’m growing more and more impatient as she stares at the same papers.

This woman makes me want to rip my hair out.

Finally, she parts those lips, and I catch myself holding my breath, waiting for what she has to say.

“I won’t sign it.” She frowns harsher at the table, ignoring my matching curve.

Goddamn it.

She didn’t wear a bra on purpose. Fucking minx. She can’t hide the way the two pinpoints as she crosses her arms over her chest like a brat about to make a scene.

Once I look, I stare. Knowing I won’t be able to think with this view, I circle the table and notice the way she tenses up as I hover behind her. As much as she’d love to spin around and fight me, she stays where she is, where I can’t see her face and what expressions she’s trying to hide.

Is it fear for the unknown future? Is it hatred for the man she’s forced to marry? Or… is there a third option?

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