My Favorite Kidnapper Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Funny, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
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“I will take you home. You will stay with me in my condo and bake me my cakes until your debt is paid.”

She pursed her lips. “I’d rather stay here.”

Her confession was unexpected. I felt how wide my smile grew. “Yeah?”

“It’s pretty. And sunny. But not stifling. Toronto in the summer is ghastly.”

“Okay. What else?”

“In the morning. I want an appointment.”

“An appointment?”

“Your housekeeper, who does speak English, by the way, says you are a very busy man of business. Lots of appointments. I want your undivided attention. So, I would like an appointment.”

I withheld my smile. Of course she figured out Gia spoke English. Broken and halting, but she spoke it. I nodded and stood. “Ten o’clock. My office is on the third floor. Gia will show you how to access it.”

“Fine.”

I indicated the plate of cheeses and bread Gia had brought up after Brianna’s dinner had been returned, barely touched.

“Eat, please. I don’t want you getting sick.”

I crossed to the door, pausing. “And, Brianna…”

She looked up.

“You always have my full attention when you’re in the room.”

I left her.

BRIANNA

I stared after Dante, listening to his fading footsteps and the click of his door shutting. His words were simple but honest. And they were profound. To someone so used to being invisible, what he said meant so much.

“You always have my full attention when you’re in the room.”

I had no idea what to make of them. Or him at times.

I had spent the afternoon walking the grounds. Enjoying the breeze and the sun. Being honest with myself.

I liked it here.

I was still angry that he had taken me. Drugged and kidnapped me. It was illegal and highly inappropriate. But the bottom line was, he was charming, sweet, and funny. He was also correct in his views on what I had left behind. Not much of it was good.

I could spend sixty days baking him cakes. Basking in the sunshine, resting. Being looked after. I hadn’t been looked after my entire life. By agreeing to his odd request, I would be debt-free, and when I went back to Toronto, I could find a new job and get away from MaryJo. Maybe I could get Dante to give me a reference. I’d be like a private pastry chef of sorts. That would look good on a résumé.

I sat in the sun for hours, mulling over my options. Not that I had many. Something had shifted when I saw him talking to the police officer. When I heard my own explanation to the officer, I felt almost silly. What Dante did was wrong. So wrong. But he hadn’t hurt me in any way. He made me angry, but he hadn’t hurt me. I had a feeling there were lots of women who wouldn’t mind if he spirited them away to a villa in Italy.

And his kisses. I wasn’t sure what to make of my reactions to him. He was so sexy. Older, experienced, and sure of himself. He touched me, and I melted, all my resistance gone. As I’d never felt desire for a man, it was heady. Overwhelming. And I liked it.

Leaning back on my elbows, I contemplated a different sort of relationship with Dante. Giving him what he so clearly wanted. I had no idea what he found so attractive about me, aside from his love of my cakes. But there had to be something. Maybe he liked younger, curvy girls. It could be as simple as that. All men had a type.

I rolled over, feeling the heat of the sun on my back soak through my overalls and shirt. Maybe I should give him what he wanted. It would be a reckless decision, but I had played it safe my whole life, and where had it gotten me? I was in debt, alone, in a dead-end job, and still a virgin at twenty-six. Dante was happy to change all those things.

I could only imagine what a physical relationship with him would entail. It would be intense, I was certain. Yet I knew he would be gentle with me when needed. What better way to discover my sexuality than with someone experienced who could teach me?

Simply thinking about it made me shiver.

All my thoughts came back to me as I sat on my bed, writing my lists. I had done my usual pro and con list, shaking my head as the pros became a great deal longer than the cons. And almost every single one had to do with Dante.

The countryside was incredible—and I had barely explored it. I wanted to see more. Feel the sun. Enjoy the days. The thought of not returning to that cramped little apartment made me feel lighter. Not having to listen to MaryJo and her spoiled, entitled kids. Work seven days a week just to keep my head above water—all of those were pros. And the list grew. The food. A chance to see a bit of Italy—something I’d never thought possible, given my resources and life.


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