Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
I didn’t know. I’d hated him, I’d surrendered to him sexually, I’d tried to escape him, then it all went horribly wrong when I was kidnapped and then he’d rescued me from a fate worse than him and I’d clung to him like he was my hero. I’d warmed up to him a bit. Maybe more than a bit.
Tommy Ferrano was the man of my dreams, but he was also the man of my nightmares.
What if I hadn’t been taken that day; what would he have done once he got me back in the house? What sort of punishment would I have faced for taking off from his sister? Did my kidnapping change him? Was he capable of change? Was he capable of being loving and giving and sweet all the time or was I only getting a temporary reprieve from the angry, punishing control freak who wanted to play scary sex games and mind fuck games?
Just how dark and evil was he? How many people had he killed? What kind of illegal stuff did his family participate in? Was he involved in profiting from the sex slave rings he’d threatened me with?
This morning when we were shot at and when he turtled over me… it did something to me. It did something I couldn’t quite name. Like the night he rescued me in Mexico, he’d sliced me open and then when he climbed onto me this morning to protect me, that open wound still there, he climbed right inside of it, of me. But because of the way he’d seesaw between dark and light I felt like I was always on eggshells.
The light was nice; it almost verged on puppies and rainbows in my heart sometimes. The dark was scary. But, then the dark could also be exciting. I’d even invited it, with volunteering to play sex games, with provoking him. What was my problem? Was I just a stupid little girl playing games out of my depth? Yes, way out of my depth. Way.
He sang into my ear the very last line of the song.
“For you are mine, at last.” He looked into my eyes in the silent loft. The only light was the little glimmer of candlelight from the table and the stars outside the opened doors, or no… wait, those were fireflies twinkling out there. Fireflies. Oh, man! How could I keep my guard up at this rate?
It was a magical moment, dancing in candlelight and firefly light, wearing only his shirt, him half naked and gorgeous, up where there was no one but us, in his special place that he’d only ever shared with me. And he was full of light right now, not darkness. For someone who didn’t do relationships, he sure knew how to set a romantic scene. The music stopped and we were still dancing, dancing to the sound of nature outside.
If it could often be just like this, would it be enough for me? Would I be able to live under his regime, under his rules, in a world of crime and danger? Did I have a choice in the matter? How dangerous was his life? What sorts of illegal things did he do? I still didn’t even really know.
So many questions.
He was still looking into my eyes; I was looking into his. It was like we were both stripped bare. He lifted my hand and kissed my knuckle just above where the engagement ring sat. Then he looked at the ring for a beat and dropped to one knee, making my heart skip a beat.
“Tia, I want you. I want you to be mine forever. Not because you clear a debt, not because I have to get married to take over for my father. I want to marry you because…” He stopped and looked away for a second. Then he looked up at me again and took a slow breath and said, “I’m about to say something to you that I’ve never said to another woman, so know that when you hear this.”
I gave him a little, almost imperceptible nod, suspecting I knew what was about to come out of his mouth but not sure that it was at all possible he was about to say what I suspected was about to come out of his mouth. But then he said it.
“I’m in love with you.”
I think my mouth dropped open.
His eyes took on fierceness. “Right here, right now, decide to give me a chance. Forget, for a second, everything on the bad side of the scales you’ve been weighing out and think only about the possibilities. Will you wear this ring voluntarily? Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” I said without even pausing first.
This beautiful, powerful, rich man who could have almost any girl in the world wanted me.
Me. The foster kid with the fucked-up life, the lowlife father, no money, nothing all that special about me. He wanted me. How could I say no? I didn’t even factor in the consequences of saying no because right then, I wanted him, too.