Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
I kept my hands fisted in my lap.
“No one has given me quite as much trouble as you have in order to get them sitting across from me.” He set the decanter down.
“I’m sure.” I forced my breathing to steady. “I’ll say it plainly, so we don’t have miscommunication here, and so I don’t waste your time. I know it’s valuable to you.” I had to stroke his ego, I reminded myself. “I’m not doing this to play hard to get or to make myself seem more interesting. I’m not. Interesting. I’m a kindergarten teacher who likes a boring, quiet life. This…” I waved my hand around at the restaurant, “world is not for me. And you, although very handsome and successful, are not for me either. I’m sure you can find a thousand women better suited and willing to sit across from you.”
Stone leaned forward to grasp his wine glass, swirling the liquid around pretentiously, leaning forward to inhale, making a big song and dance before taking a demure sip.
“The wine is sublime,” he declared as if I hadn’t even spoken. “There are only fifty bottles in the world left.” He glanced at the decanter. “Forty-nine, now.” He nodded his head. “Try it.”
“I’m afraid it would be wasted on me.” I tried to sound polite, not moving my hands.
Engaged in a silent standoff, he stared at me then the wine glass, still smiling but now with an edge. He was trying to intimidate me into drinking. And if I were younger and hadn’t been through what I’d been through, it would’ve worked.
I didn’t like making people uncomfortable. I’d been a people pleaser all my life, starting because that was the only way to survive. But I no longer pleased people—especially men—if it resulted in harming myself. Even a little.
Once it had become clear that I wasn’t going to obey his silent command, Stone blinked, another slow smile moving across his face.
“There are definitely a thousand women who I could have sitting across from me, wearing a dress, heels, drinking wine.” He took a sip of his wine. “And they’d be more than willing. They’d be boring. All the same. I don’t want them, Piper.” He put down his wine, placing both hands on the table, leaning forward. “I want you.”
There it was, plainly put. Said almost like a grumpy toddler might say it, or worse, a petulant child king. As if want equaled having.
My body tensed as what I’d been fearing had come to fruition. There was no gentle, polite way out of this. Maybe I could relent, eat dinner, have sex—gross—with him and show him that I was nothing special, I was easily had. He’d lose interest.
Maybe.
But then I would’ve sacrificed a very important piece of myself.
No way.
I pushed back my chair, standing.
“I apologize for wasting your time, for giving you the wrong idea.” The false apology melted on my tongue. I had nothing to be sorry for since I most certainly didn’t give him the wrong idea, and he was the one wasting my time. “But you can’t have me, Mr. De Luca. I’m not something to be had, and I am, respectfully, not interested. I wish you well, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me again.”
I turned quickly, but not before I saw a cold determination cover his features. Replaced by that quick, oily smile. It sent the world tilting for just a second before I hightailed it out of there.
I’d known that wouldn’t be the last I’d see of him, known I was in trouble, but I never in a million years could’ve predicted where I’d end up.
In a car, going God knew where with a man who most definitely was a murderer.
Four
Piper
Ihad resolved to stay quiet the entire drive. My form of protest, maybe? But upon reflection after about an hour, I decided that silence was not protest but submission. I’d gone with him willingly, without a fight, which was shameful enough. I wouldn’t sit there meekly, letting him think I was entirely at his mercy.
I had a voice. It was pretty much the only thing I had left at this point.
“What’s your name?” It was a pertinent question to ask my kidnapper. Though was it kidnapping if I went willingly, albeit under duress? Though I didn’t even know if it counted as ‘under duress’ since he hadn’t made any outright threats. Although just his existence alone was a threat.
I sighed loudly. Great. Even if I did decide to run away at a gas station and go to the police, I’d have nothing to truly convict him of, and I’d be laughed out of the station for getting in the car with a stranger.
“You work for Stone, right?” I probed when he didn’t respond to my question. “I just want to ensure that I didn’t somehow just get in the car with a stalker completely unrelated to my…” What was Stone? Definitely not a boyfriend. Not a friend. “Overly friendly with hostile undertones acquaintance who wants me to be his with my coerced consent.” The word spewed from me in a quick babble with air quotes and nervous smiling.