Page 26 of Unhinged Cravings
I didn’t want to recognize the feeling that fluttered in my lower belly, but it was difficult to ignore. This was something out of those dark romances Riley and I read. And I was the crazy female lead, falling head over heels for the corrupt mafia man within days of being kidnapped by him. Thiswas madness. Wasn’t there some syndrome associated with victims and their kidnappers? Maybe that was what this was.
I fell back onto the bed, trying not to think of Emerson Tides and the undeniable effect he was having on me. He wanted to be hard and cold, but he wasn’t that way with me. There were too many sweet moments, things he did and said that led me to believe this man wasn’t as bad as everyone made him out to be. Or maybe he was different with me. I couldn't stop the smile that tugged at the corner of my mouth.
The door opened, and I quickly pulled my sheets up, giving Breaker a nasty look.
“Boss said to bring you breakfast if you weren’t awake by ten.” He placed a tray on the bedside table.
“Ten? It’s ten already?”
He nodded.
“Where is he?”
“Meetings. He and Pack left with a few of the guys early this morning.” He walked away. “Eat. Jill will be by soon.”
He closed the door, and the familiar click of the lock assured me that Emerson had imprisoned me again. I sat back up and folded my legs under me, looking over the tray Breaker had brought.
Eggs and toast. I couldn’t stop my laugh or the excited squeak when I spotted the coffee that was still warm. I brought it to my mouth, savoring the taste. The eggs were warm as well and I thought maybe he had instructed Breaker to warm everything up for me. A sweet gesture to add to the others.
When I was chewing the last bite of eggs, the door opened again. A woman entered the room, her auburn hair streaked with gray and pulled up in a stylish ponytail. She wore a pair of tight jeans and a mauve blouse that buttoned down the front. Stylish and attractive. If Emerson hadn’t laughed at my questions about their relationship, I would have considered the jealousy that pushed at me was more than her looks and dressing skills.
Her flats clicked on the wood floor as she walked to the foot of the bed and stood there, peering down at me.
“Hi,” I said, not sure if I should talk or continue letting her study me like a science project.
“So you’re the one who has Cade acting so out of character.”
I bit into a piece of crust and tilted my head. “Out of character?” I hated how my heart fluttered in response.
“Not his usual grumpy, demanding asshole self.”
My brow shot up, and I almost coughed out the crust. “Should you be calling your employer an asshole?”
“I’ve known Cade long enough to get away with it.” She walked around the side of the bed as I tried to adjust to hearing Emerson called Cade. It just didn’t sound right to me, but I knew he let me call him by his true name and it wasn’t something he allowed anyone else to do. Another check on the sweet side of his list. “Get up and let me see what I’m working with.”
And she called Emerson demanding.
“If I’d known he wasn’t kidnapping the tall, skinny one, I wouldn’t have spent all that money. Now I’ll have to donate all of it.”
“Tall, skinny one?” I asked, her comment irritating me. Sure, I was rounder in places than Riley and a few inches shorter, but I liked my body and my curves, and I wasn’t about to let her put them down. Besides, at five eight I didn’t consider myself short.
“Yes. You have more body to work with. Curves are more difficult to shop for.”
“Oh.” There went the steam from my argument. I threw the sheets back and stood. Jill towered over me. She had to be almost six feet tall.
Her eyes flitted to Emerson’s T-shirt, her lips twitching like she wanted to smile but it would be painful for her to do so. “That explains it,” she murmured.
“I’m not sleeping with him,” I snapped, not liking the condescending look she gave me.
“No? Why not?”
My mouth hung open before I could stop it. “He kidnapped me for one.” A lame argument now that I recognized his smell and looked forward to seeing him. Not to mention, technically, I was sleeping with him until my meds arrived.
“Shame. You seem like the type of woman he needs.”
I crossed my arms. “As opposed to what?” I asked, not really sure where this conversation was going or why we were having it.
She pushed me aside and began making the bed. “The women he normally sleeps with. Snobby, spineless, often brainless…at least the ones he bothered bringing into the house.” Fluffing the pillow with a fervor fit for a boxer, she continued, “Most don’t make it that far and haven’t for a long time.”
