Page 6 of The Forbidden Bride He Stole

She had never seen anything half so human in him before. But much like the heat before, it was gone before she could truly grapple with what it meant.

There was no point arguing with him anyway. Apollo was a man who understood action. Not words. She would show him that he could not bend her to his will.

And then part of her wondered...

Wondered if the heat that she had seen in his eyes would make him bend. Would make him withdraw.

He wasn’t immune to her body.

Even if he had hidden it quickly. Even if it had only been momentary.

She was going to have to ponder that. What it meant, and how she could use it.

The idea made her heart start beating faster again. It was a risk. For all the reasons she’d thought of already, it was a risk. It could push him away forever. But it could also be the thing that made him realize that now he needed to distance her—just for a time.

Or maybe...

Maybe he would give in.

For one moment she let herself imagine that. His lips, his hands, his body.

She had never tried manipulating anyone ever in her whole life. But the idea that she might be able to make him want her like she’d wanted him...it sent a shock wave through her system.

Get a hold of yourself.

One thing was certain, she couldn’t control Apollo. But she could control herself.

She wouldn’t be told what to do.

So, she turned on her heel in his office, and when her back was to him and she was near the door, she stopped. “You’re not my dad.”

Then she swept out of the study.

CHAPTER TWO

“YOU’RENOTMYDAD!”Mariana laughed uproariously as Hannah recounted the scene in Apollo’s office.

“Well,” she said, unsure if she was being laughed at in praise or...because she was silly. “He isn’t.”

“Going to skip the very obvious joke here,” their friend Pablo said, leaning back in his chair and grinning. He was wickedly handsome and very gay—a boon for her visually, but nothing more.

“Appreciated,” said Hannah. They were sitting in the back of the club, the light swirling around them. Because Mariana worked as the concierge, she got them the best access to the very best places, and that usually at a discount. Because, after all, she had to have experience so that she could recommend things to guests.

They were sitting around a white table, enjoying some delicious champagne, and finally, she had told them everything that happened last night.

“You should get married,” Rocco said. He was Italian. Very attractive.Notgay. She wished that she could muster up some enthusiasm for Rocco. Of course, it probably wasn’t a great idea to date someone you worked with.

“I did think of that,” she said. She looked at Mariana. “Actually, I would marry you,” she said.

“I’d marry you too,” Mariana said, tilting back her champagne glass and swallowing the rest of it down. “I would literally be marrying my best friend.”

“Well, the will says something about a husband specifically.”

“How narrow-minded,” Mariana said, frowning.

“It may shock you to learn that my white billionaire father wasn’t exactly known for his expansive take on the world.”

Gigi, the bubbly redhead who was the newest to join their friend group, giggled. “A big shock. Though, it must have prepared you to work in customer service at a hotel.”

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