Page 6 of Taken By the Kingpin
In two steps I take first one of her wrists then her other and trap them in my one hand at the small of her back.
“What?!” She’s in shock, staring at the slumped man, his gun loosely held and shoulder turning red.
“You’re coming with me.” No way am I letting this innocent girl be trapped back with her family and ex-husband. One arm around her ribcage, I bundle her out of the hotel side entrance, push her into the waiting limo and tug the door shut behind us.
“Let me go!” She tugs at her hands ineffectually and wobbles on her heels as the vehicle moves. Sitting, I pull her onto the seat next to me. The scent of her—roses—fills my head and makes me momentarily dizzy. As if I’m the captive, spun around blindfolded. But I keep my grip on her little wrists, so fragile in my big blunt fingers. It’s then that she realises she has legs, and starts to kick me.
“Stop that or I’ll tie you up.” Fortunately—or unfortunately, whichever way you look at it—this limo is sometimes used for nefarious purposes.
“Make me,” she hisses, and redoubles her efforts.
It’s the work of a moment to shift so one of my hands spans both of her wrists, and my leg is over her thighs. I refuse to acknowledge her slight body under mine, all tight skin and vibrating with anger as I flick open the compartment with bindings and secure Jeanette’s hands together. She makes her ankles a little more difficult, and we both end up on the floor, me holding her calves down with my forearm while my logical mind tries to shut down in favour of the sensation of her skin on mine.
I ruthlessly suppress my inappropriate arousal and lean back, but at the sight of her it returns. Hands and feet bound, her eyes glitter with fury. And…
Surely not. I must be imagining it.
It can’t be.
Her mouth opens in a pant but there’s no fear in her eyes. She’s… turned on.
3
JEANETTE
I glare at him.
He’s… Ugh. I cannot.
I tug at my bonds, but they’re tight. Sebastian Laurent doesn’t do things by halves.
He huffs with irritation, as though it’smyfault this has happened, and his gaze slides down my body, his expression serious and contemplative. I shiver with… I’d like to say cold. But it’s not. It’s the idea that he might like what he sees. Me, in a fancy dress, at his mercy.
My nipples pucker and though I try to ignore my body’s reaction, I can’t deny it. Being restrained by Sebastian Laurent is… Alright, it’s hot af. I like it despite the panic and resentment and simple downright pissed-offness, I… Want him.
He lifts me onto the seat with surprisingly gentle hands after the force of tying me up, then settles opposite. Jaw working, eyes sparking with frustration, he stares in silence until his phone trills into life. He doesn’t take his eyes off me as he answers with a snapped single word: his name. “Laurent.”
Whatever he hears makes his brows lower into a scowl. “Send a team to deal with them. I want that safe house back.”
Hanging up, he taps on the glass and speaks to the driver. All I catch is, “home”.
There’s a long silence, until eventually Sebastian says, “This isn’t how I planned it.”
“What do you want, a cookie?” I snip back at him.
“He’d have taken you to Fletcher at gunpoint.”
That man. And the shiver this time is from fear. He had a gun, and he was coming right for me. I didn’t see him until he’d almost grabbed me and if Sebastian hadn’t been there…
The car comes to a stop and Sebastian doesn’t hesitate. The door is open and he’s lifting me, and I can’t hang on or do anything but yell in annoyance as he tosses me over his shoulder.
“Put me down!”
He’s carrying me like I’m a sack of spuds.
I thud my tied hands against his back and all that succeeds in is demonstrating to me he’s all muscle. All warm, hard muscle that doesn’t yield at all as I thwack him pointlessly with the sides of my wrists.
“No.” His voice is more a rumble through my stomach than in my ears.
