The sun is setting as we travel along an endless old dry stone wall, then pull off the road through an entrance with a snug little gatekeeper’s house on one side, the windows lit, and high black metal electric gates that open noiselessly and close right behind us. The drive is lined with London plane trees, their patchy bark like camouflage in the evening light and the dangly earrings of young seeds hanging down.
Neither of us has spoken since Grant said the words that have been repeating through my head. Lyrics to a song I’ve never heard but seems familiar anyway. I want you.
That’s too close. Too much. Somehow he’s looked into my heart and seen that I long to be the centre of someone’s universe.
But ultimately, it doesn’t matter, because I don’t believe him. I’m nothing. Just normal, a lower-tier mafia princess. More like a middle-class mafia girl. He’s powerful and gorgeous and has experience and authority. Any woman would come running at his one lazy beckoning finger. Yes, he intervened when my own brother would have sent me to die alone on the other end of the earth. But who knows what mafia politics are at play here. There could be a host of financial and power game reasons Grant saved me.
He’s still languidly topless on the opposite side of the limo. He has watched me the whole way, like doing so was a compulsion. His phone buzzed constantly, and though he glanced at it, taking in whatever the messages were with a pinch of the eyebrows, he seemed content to simply be my jailor.
Or perhaps he expects me to try to escape. But I’m exhausted and beyond fighting. Seeing on the news a bomb was recovered in the hotel I was due to stay at chilled me into painful submission. I knew my brother was willing to sacrifice me, but the extent has cut me open. I’m truly alone.
So when the car stops and Grant offers me his hand, I accept it and tell myself I feel nothing as warm fingers clasp mine and his thumb smooths over my knuckles.
His house could be a set for a period drama film, all cream stone and enormous windows, and although I sneak a glance to both sides, I can’t even see how big it is. He leads me up the wide steps like I’m a princess rather than a runaway bride he picked up off the street.
Inside is predictably amazing. The entrance hall has marble floors, high ceilings, and a double staircase flows down into it. One of those in movies, and the hero and heroine meet in the middle. Though part of me adores this and wants to run around squealing like a five-year-old.
But the fact is, this might be a beautiful house, but Lambeth could let me go. I’ve been in a prison my whole life. No more.
“I’ll show you to your rooms,” he says as he shuts the door with a click and turns the key in the lock.
“No.” I stop, jolting out of his grasp as he tries to lead me to the stairs. He looks back and his brows lower into a scowl. “I’m going to Australia. Thank you for letting me know about my fiancé’s plan, but I’d like to go now.”
“I think you’ll find you’re not in a position to make demands,” he drawls.
“Because you kidnapped me.” He might have stopped me from being murdered, but I’m not conceding that he’s the good guy here. Abduction is still—you know—a crime.
“Yes.” He smirks. “Like I said. Not in a position to make demands.”
I guess he’s right. Gritting my teeth, I allow him to lead me up the stairs then down first one luxuriously wallpapered corridor then another, and already I’m a little lost. This house is enormous.
My gaze keeps skipping to Grant’s bare shoulders. They look strong. Really strong, and I discovered that earlier, didn’t I? As I fought him, he held me at bay effortlessly, never having to resort to hurting me.
“You’re going to stay here.” Grant opens a door and I step into a suite decorated in a pretty pale blue and white, with a carpet so plush my feet sink into it and a massive four-poster bed with soft floaty drapes. It is nearly perfect, and makes my fingers itch to fix the last details. He closes the door gently but firmly. “Give me a month to deal with your brother and fiancé and make you secure against their threats. Think of it like a little holiday before your trip. I’ll provide everything you need to plan your new life in Australia, or wherever you want to go.” I look around in time to see his mouth twist like he’s tasting something bitter.
And I realise he’s trying to trap me.
“What’s really going on here? Does my brother owe you? I won’t marry you so you can get my money for his debts.” I guess the most obvious reason.
The bastard has the temerity to laugh. “I’m far richer than you, sweetheart. I have no need of your fortune. You have what, a couple of million? Enough for a nice house and a life of frugal leisure. I have a thousand times that.”
“Well, don’t think that means you can buy my body either,” I say proudly. That’s all men in our world ever want. Money or sex.
He tilts his head to the side. “Is that what you think? I merely want to slake my insatiable animal lust on your smooth virgin curves?”
Slake his lust. Quite honestly, when he puts it like that it makes my belly go warm and loose. I ignore his accurate guess about my virginity.
“Well why else would you have kidnapped me?” Because that nonsense about wanting me? Impossible.
“To protect you,” he replies simply.
“Sure,” I scoff. “I can defend myself, I don’t need an old man like you.” A lie. A total lie. I don’t even know why I’m baiting him. Trying to claw back some influence in this situation, maybe. I’m caught and at his whim.
His eyes are glittering now, with mirth yes, but with something menacing too. I’ve thrown out a challenge and a bad feeling skitters down my spine that he’s about to take me up on it.
“You think I’m past it, do you,” he says with terrifying softness.
“Yes. You locked me into that taxi. You’re going to lock me in here for a month. Not even giving me a chance to prove myself.” I’m proud of myself that my voice equals his for calm, even as my insides flutter. I’m trembling like a puppy dreaming of playing with leaves. “You couldn’t even give me a fair trial. An opportunity to escape.”
He smiles. “You think you can best me given an equal fight, do you? Okay. Choose a competition.”
I did not think this through. I taunted him about being old, but he’s bigger and stronger than me, for all he’s twenty years older. The only fight I would do better at is one where his muscle would be a disadvantage. I can’t think of any right now, but I’m not going to be totally screwed over either. “It can’t be a strength test. I’m not arm wrestling you.”
“Mmm.” The sound is a rumbling purr. “What about a chase?”
Oh. I… I can be fast. That doesn’t sound so bad. It seems quite fair. “What’s the trap?”
“You want to escape?” He reaches into his pocket and slides out a key. “A race for your freedom. Make it to the front door, and you can walk away.”
This sounds good. I’m nodding eagerly.
“But if it turns out I’m not so old that I can’t catch you…”
I go still. His eyes glitter and the moment draws out like the sun descending through a red-streaked horizon. What will he demand as his prize?
“You stay here with me for twenty-four hours and do whatever I want.”
The shock reverberates through me. If I lose, I’m his for the day. No control, no way to stop. Heat pools between my legs instantly and my nipples harden.
“If I prove I’m a match for you, I get to use that pretty body of yours. And since I’m so old, I’ve had plenty of time and experience to discover perverted acts that will make you squirm as you cry with pleasure.”
Oh god. A shudder like an earthquake goes through me and I go hot and liquid at my core.
“Or you don’t play the game, and you stay quietly under my protection until you’re safe. Your choice.”
My choice.
At least I have options, which is more than my brother gave me. Grant’s gaze doesn’t waver from my face. He’s intense, this man. Like facing burning metal.
I look away. I can’t think while he’s there, so handsome and focussed.
But I still feel his attention, unyielding. Unrelenting.
Think. I have to think.
It’s all or nothing if I take his bet. If I can outrun him, I’ll be out, finally. It’s been twenty-one years in captivity. Yes, I’ll be at risk of my brother catching me, but is that really a greater risk than being trapped with the kingpin?
I can see that waiting out his month is the logical way forward—but is it? A lot could happen in a month under his control. Either way, will he stick to his promises?
Yes. Whatever else the kingpin is, I think he’s a man of his word.
In which case… I sneak a look at him. He’s fit. Muscled. Bulky even. But is he agile? I might have the edge there. And if I can escape…
If I get out now, I’m at a double advantage. I don’t have to spend a miserable lonely month in yet another gilded cage. And I won’t have to resist throwing myself at Grant and being humiliated. Because god knows, it will be resisting. He has a force around him, like he’s one of those spaceships that draws in smaller ones. A planet pulling in a shining meteor to its orbit, only to burn it up upon entry to the atmosphere.
He is scary, and though there’s a savage creature in me that likes that, I’m not under any illusion. This man would take what he wanted from me if I offered it, and break my heart.
So the race is better, right? I win and leave. I’ll figure out how to make a new life and stay one step ahead of Colin and David. Or if I lose the competition, at least I’m only with Grant for one day, not a whole month where I’d drive myself nuts about what he meant when he said, I want you. For what? To be his maid? What could he want with a girl like me?
Besides, would it be so bad to be his for one day? I don’t know what he’d demand, exactly. But a warm shiver goes through me at the thought of Grant being my first everything. The outer recesses of my mind acknowledge that I’m more than a little curious about what he’d make me do. What depravity he’d inflict on me.
I might enjoy it.
He’s waiting stoically while these chaotic thoughts cascade through my head. His arms are crossed over his chest, like he’s holding in all his power and strength.
I can do this. I’ll win and be out of here. No long month knocking around his house like a single pinball. Even twenty-four hours at his mercy is better than that.
Lifting my gaze to his, immediately I’m drowning in that grey. Lost in it like he’s a snowstorm at dusk.
I open my mouth and he reads the answer before I say the words. The flash is brief but I know I saw it. Relief. For a game? Is my billionaire kingpin bored? Or… I see it in a strike of insight through those apparently cold eyes. Lonely?
My heart spasms in sympathy. “Yes. I accept.”
