My hands tremble slightly as I unwrap a raw steak. “I don’t eat raw food.”
“It’s a steak.”
“I know it’s a steak,” I burst out. “Why are you handing it to me?”
He chuckles, the sound rough. “Throw it into the water.”
My lungs seize, and I slowly pivot to stare at the quiet water. Oh, this is so not good. Nevertheless, curiosity rides me, so I gingerly grasp the side of the bloody meat and toss it into the moat.
An instant frenzy explodes as whatever is in there fights for pieces. Water sprays, and bubbles blow in every direction. A high-pitched shriek splits the surface. I take an unwilling step back.
He smiles. “I wouldn’t swim in the pond if I were you, beauty.”
“What is in there?” I ask, my voice hushed.
“Everything you don’t want to encounter. There’s even quicksand at the bottom, though what’s in there won’t let you sink that low before consuming you.”
I shiver and look around. Apparently, the drawbridge is the only way across that killing field. This at least explains why nobody seemed too concerned when I walked out of the castle. I look furtively toward the ocean.
“It’s a sheer rock cliff,” he says. “There’s no way down—except via gravity and the certainty of painful death.”
I don’t believe him. There is no question in my mind that he has escape routes from this fortress. However, I have no idea where they are. “You know this is kidnapping?”
“I’m well aware. It’s the least of my sins.” He gestures back toward the house. “I don’t think trying to sneak out of my house is being very obedient. I’m giving you this one because you didn’t know you have the run of the property if you want. There’s nowhere for you to go.”
We’ll just see about that. He’d never trap himself in a situation like this. I know it. There have to be tunnels out of here. “I’ll see you in prison for this.”
He blinks. Just once as if I’m boring him. “You have to be hungry. Come back inside.”
I set my stance. “I’m not agreeing to stay here.”
“I don’t need your agreement.” His brief smile lightens his whole face, and I can only stare. He’s no more approachable than before, but the flash of white teeth and tilt of his eyes contrasts so starkly with the cruel scar that he is masculine beauty personified. The rawest and most primitive incarnation of maleness is right in front of me. My knees weaken. Oh, I don’t like this side of myself, but curiosity has always plagued me. Even when I know I’m going to get burned.
Something boils red hot inside me. I should be angry and I should be kicking him. “You don’t want me for an enemy.” I’m deadly serious but have no idea how I’m going to back that up.
“Call yourself whatever you want.” He takes my arm, his touch electric and firm. “I’m calling you mine.”
NINE
Thorn
When we arrive in my palatial kitchen, I indulge myself and grasp her waist, lifting her onto the sprawling marble counter.
Her small gasp is tinged with honey. “I can sit in a chair.”
“I prefer you here,” I say, noting the breakfast spread on the island. Mrs. Pendrake must’ve gone to the grocery store before cooking eggs and bacon.
Alana looks over at the wide windows revealing the churning ocean, and her shoulders relax. I ponder her reaction. Is there something about the ocean that calms her? Interesting.
I spear a piece of juicy cantaloupe from the platter and press it against her lush lips. “Eat. It’s your favorite.” Mine as well, which is why we keep the fruit on hand.
Her eyes widen and she stubbornly presses her lips together. She’s cute. Adorable, even. I clamp one hand on her thigh and she startles, opening her mouth so I can push in the delectable treat.
She glares but chews and swallows. “What makes you think I like cantaloupe?”
“It’s your favorite. I know everything about you.”
Her chin lowers. “I’m not eating out of your hand.”
“Don’t throw out challenges you can’t meet,” I retort. “Would you like coffee?”
Need sparks in her eyes.
My balls respond in kind.
Without making her ask, I pluck a mug off the top shelf and pour her a good portion. I know from my research that she likes oat milk and honey with her coffee. “As I wasn’t planning on taking you quite yet, I don’t have anything with which to lighten this except regular milk.”
She accepts the mug, wrapping both of her small hands around it. A lovely pink color filters over her skin, and I can’t help but wonder what she’ll look like in the throes of orgasm. Pleasure belongs on her face. “Why the unplanned kidnapping?” She takes a deep drink and her delighted hum nearly knocks me to my knees.
I frown. “You always take yours with sugar.”
More challenge tilts those unreal eyes, sharpening the green. “Don’t believe everything you see.”
Fair enough. I move into her, pushing her legs apart and settling where I want to be, standing while she’s balancing on the counter. “I like that about you.”
More color fills her face. That statement pleases her, and she doesn’t want it to. Oh, I can sense the sweet lightness in her, and she’s a perfect blend for the darkness in me. Soon she’ll admit the truth. “Back away,” she snaps.
“You don’t want me to.” I lean in, noting her quick intake of breath. “Why do you hide the way you take your coffee?”
