Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
I shouldn't care what they think of me, anyway. Usually, I want to make a good impression on people, though, and even though he's nuts, Silvan talking about them as my future in-laws bolsters the desire to make a good impression.
I have to remind myself it's not real, that they're definitely not my future in-laws. If anything, they're accomplices in my kidnapping, though I figure they must have taken what I said last night as a joke since they let Silvan haul me up to his room and never even tried to come help.
If they believed me, surely, they would have helped.
When I'm done brushing my hair, Silvan says, "Ready to go meet the in-laws?"
I shake my head, setting the brush down and giving myself a once-over to make sure I'm as prepared as I can be without all my stuff. "They are not my in-laws," I say, more to remind myself than him. "I am not your wife."
My heart jumps when he crosses the room and stops beside me. On instinct, I turn to face him, and gasp when he reaches for my face with one hand and my waist with the other. He turns me and walks me back, trapping me against the sink. He caresses my face, then leans in until his mouth is a breath away from mine. “You will be one day, Sophie."
Then, he kisses me.
It’s a hard kiss, demanding, hungry, and it sucks the breath right from my lungs. I grab his shoulder with one hand and the edge of the sink with the other. I’m helpless as his tongue slips between my lips and invades my mouth. His hand at my waist slides around to my back. He slides it between me and the sink to cushion me from the possible discomfort as he ravishes my mouth.
When he finally pulls back, I'm breathless and my heart beats fast. I feel bashful as he looks down at me, then briefly confused when he smirks.
But he's looking at my breasts, and when he murmurs, "That's why I like you bra-less," I realize my nipples hardened to pebbles while he kissed me.
My cheeks heat and I shove against his chest. He chuckles but lets me push him away. His hands take their time releasing me, and when he does, he still takes my hand.
I've never actually held hands with a guy before him. On the face of it, it seems like such an innocent thing to do, but it sure doesn't feel that way when he does it.
I don’t know what to expect of breakfast with his family, so I’m a little on-edge as we head downstairs.
Silvan leads me to a stately formal dining room with lots of light shining in through the massive windows on the far wall. They have luxurious-looking window treatments in a creamy shade of yellow that matches the room. Between the windows is a painting so large it fills most of the wall. Overhead is a gorgeous, expensive-looking chandelier. The dining table is long, built more for entertaining than for an intimate meal for a family of three.
It’s a gorgeous room. A fancy table.
And today, it’s set for four.
Silvan’s mother and father are already seated on their side of the table. Two more places are set directly across from them.
“There you are,” his mom says, her voice lyrical and lovely to listen to. Her eyes are warm and her smile is so genuine, you’d really think I’m a guest here and not a captive. “We set places for you two, but I didn’t know if your guest was left-handed or right-handed, so I hope you won’t bump elbows. We can switch you if we need to.”
Silvan glances over at me. “I don’t know that, either, actually.”
“Left.” I clear my throat, feeling his father’s gaze on me and feeling profoundly self-conscious because of the way Silvan has me dressed. The clothes are beautiful, of course, but I hardly look like anyone’s prisoner. “I’m left-handed.”
“Why don’t you sit across from Richard then?” she says, indicating the chair across from Silvan’s father.
That is not where I wanted to sit.
Last night, I got a certain vibe off the man, but he was relaxed, at the end of his day enjoying some peace and quiet with his wife.
This morning, he’s fresh and ready for a new day. The quiet sense of intimidation that rolled off him last night is much louder this morning.
It’s unsettling.
He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel him watching me. He might be Silvan’s dad, but he’s a man all the same, so my anxiety begins to spiral like it did the night of the party when a guy looked too long at me. I want to flee, but there’s no crowd to get lost in.
I’m so anxious and distracted, I gasp when Silvan places a hand on my shoulder. He frowns, and I blush furiously, my face feeling so hot, I want to press my hands against it.