Page 19 of Captive Bride

Was it the Governor coming to find me? My skin breaks out in goosebumps.

I breath a sigh of relief when he comes into view. Definitely not the Governor.

He looms above me, incredibly tall—six five, at least. His body is clearly muscular; even his steps convey great strength. His black hair shines brilliantly in the reflected lighting.

My eyes stop short at his face. Covered, hidden behind a mask.

“Can I help you?” I ask, unsure of what else to say.

His hand snakes up toward his face, removing the mask in one swift movement.

Green eyes—dark and foreboding—stare back at me.

My breath catches in my throat.

“I was hoping to ask you the same,” he says. “Why is it that the bride to be is hiding in a corner?”

Lies come flashing into my mind, excuses to justify my behavior. It definitely doesn’t look good, me hiding in a corner with a bottle of champagne. Father would be livid.

I open my mouth, still undecided on which lie suits best.

Something about his eyes stops me. I can’t stay for certain what it is.

The man is intimidating.

He looks at me now with a smile so charming as to be almost predatory. I feel my excuses die on the tip of my tongue. I’m inexplicably comfortable under that gaze.

His eyes continue to examine me in my silence. They run down the length of me, sending chills down my spine. My heart beats harder in my chest, in a way far different than it does around the Governor.

“I don’t love him,” I say, shocked as the words tumble easily from my lips.

He inclines his head, encouraging me to continue.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to go through with this! The thought of being his wife, of being…I just can’t.”

“What are you going to do?” he asks me, genuinely seeming curious.

It’s a question I’ve been asking myself for some time now.

“I have no idea. I know I can’t marry him, but I just don’t see a way out of it. I’m trapped.”

My words hang in the air between us, the silence stretching until I worry that I’ve said too much. Just as I’m beginning to feel panic bloom again in my chest, he lowers himself to the floor beside me.

“I see,” he says seriously.

He studies the floor for a moment, hand reaching up to rub against the stubble on his chin. After what seems a very long time, those eyes find my own again, his face breaking out into a mischievous grin.

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