CAPTURED: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys(19)

He took a measured step closer and as his presence dominated the wide  expanse of island, and threw her off her game, she worked to summon a  modicum of composure and asked in her best professional voice, "What do  you want?"

He cocked his head, his glance leisurely moving over her face. "Relax,  Ms. Andrews, you're not in the courtroom anymore." His smile came slow.  "You don't get to ask the questions here."

Her towered over her, and with a stance that was both commanding and  authoritative it became abundantly clear that here, on his private  island, she was now playing in his territory, by his rules. No longer  was she the one calling the shots.

Oddly enough, equal mixtures of excitement and apprehension trickled  through her and elicited a shiver from deep within. What the hell was  going on with her?

"I'm not going to hurt you if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm worried about a lot of things," she countered, shading the hot,  morning sun from her eyes while trying to hide her reactions from him.

The muscles along his jaw flexed. "And that is why you're here, Ms.  Andrews." Everything in the slow, calculated way he spoke did the most  peculiar things to her libido.

Tension grew in her body and her thoughts raced to catch up. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Silence hung for a long time, her flesh growing hotter with each passing  second, although she suspected it had little to do with the blinding  rays beating down on her. "It's time to stop worrying and let someone  take a few decisions out of your hands."

"Someone? Let me guess, that someone would be you?" she shot back.

Anticipation moved over his eyes when he answered with, "Of course."

She swallowed. "And how do you plan to do that?"

"You'll see," he said, the slow, promising way he drew out those two little words hinting at something wickedly intimate.

She sucked in a breath. "And what you're going to see is the inside of a  prison, because this –  – " she paused to wave her arm around the isolated  island " –  – this is kidnapping."

"Kidnapping?" He rocked on his feet like he was mulling that over. "I  suppose if that's how you want to look at it, then yes, it's  kidnapping." He held his hand out. "Now shall we?"

She jerked away from him. "Now, we shall not. You can take me back home  right now." Folding her arms, she rooted her feet, refusing to budge.

The corner of his mouth twitched –  – twitched, like he was laughing at her.  "Don't worry, Rebecca. I won't make you do anything you don't want to  do."

Oh God, the rich, sensual way he said her name, the leisurely way it  rolled off the tip of his tongue with such heat and hunger filled her  with need and excited her in ways that didn't make sense, considering  he'd just kidnapped her and planned to do God knows what to her.

I won't make you do anything you don't want to do.

His amusement vanished. "Now why don't you come inside, and have something cool to drink. You're flushed."

"It's hot."

He arched a brow, skepticism flashing in his black eyes. "Perhaps," he said.

Just then Rebecca spotted a middle-aged man coming their way, and her  pulse leapt with hope. Maybe she could plead her case, tell him she was  being held against her will, and he could call for help, get her off  this isolated island. But when she glanced back at Quinn he had a  knowing looking on his face.

"There are three loyal members of my staff here, and they answer to me  only." He waved a hand. "That is Michael, and he's here to attend to  your needs during your visit."

"What I need is to get out of here," she said flatly.

Ignoring her he continued, "You'll also meet Ester, my cook, and Mario, the grounds keeper."

Michael nodded his head and greeted them both, then proceeded to grab  their luggage from the plane. "Right this way, ma'am," he said,  gesturing toward the foliage lined path leading up to the grand estate.

Deciding to follow, and hoping there was a landline inside the house,  she pushed past Mr. Montgomery and stayed close to Michael as he led the  way. Once inside the opulent, airy home, the cool air conditioning  refreshing against her hot skin, she searched for a phone.

As she panned the living space, she took in the huge floor-to-ceiling  windows lining the back of the house, and the magnificent view of the  ocean below. Michael disappeared up the wide staircase with their  luggage in tow, and Rebecca stepped forward, needing to put a measure of  distance between her and the man whose mere presence had the ability to  warm her blood quicker than a double vodka martini.

She examined the expensive sculptures and artwork lining the walls,  making note of the dark, creamy leather furniture and polished marble  floors. Even though his summer home was grand and lavish, there was  still something inviting and homey about it.

She felt him step up behind her, the warmth of his body weakening her  knees as he placed his hands on her hips. "You can roam at your leisure,  Rebecca," he murmured into her ear, causing the fine hairs along her  neck to bristle. "The truth is, I'm not going to keep you captive."

She turned to see him, but wished she hadn't. Sexual tension arced  between them, the air around them charging. She fought to recover her  voice and asked, "So I can leave?"

"If you want to get off, you can get off." His voice dipped lower,  became much deeper when he added, "But that will require you to stay."

As she caught the sexy, double entendre, her mouth opened and closed, hardly able to believe what she was hearing.

His smile turned predatory. "But you need to know that staying means following my orders."

She swallowed hard. "Look, I know what this is about. You're upset with  the outcome of your trial and you brought me here for revenge."

"That's not what I'm after," he said.

"Then what exactly is it that you want from me?" She braced herself for  the answer because every instinct she possessed told her revenge was  exactly what he was after, and he planned to make her pay for his  losses … but payment wouldn't come in the form of cash. No, it would come  in another form all together.

The muscles along his jaw flexed and his black eyes shimmered when he said, "Total and utter submission."         

     



 

Oh, God, the price was higher than she'd ever anticipated.

Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again, and while there were so many  things she wanted to counter with, all she could do was croak out a  heated moan.

"If you decide to stay, all decisions will be taken away from you." He  waved a hand. "Here you don't get to ask questions or decide on  anything."

Her limbs grew weak, and an unexpected lick of heat prowled through her body, settling itself deep between her legs.

"Michael will be back in a moment to collect you. You will follow him to  your room, and put on only the clothes I picked out for you. Nothing  more, nothing less. Then you will join me for brunch on the terrace.  It's a beautiful day to eat outside, don't you think?"

Rebecca just stood there staring, her mind still processing. He wanted  her to put on clothes that he picked out for her? Then meet him for  brunch? Was he kidding?

Indignant, and unable to believe what he was suggesting, she drew in a  quick breath to refuel her addled brain and said, "If you think I'm  going to wear clothes-"

"It's not a suggestion."

As blood drained to her toes, she forced her chin up. "I thought you said you'd never make me do anything I didn't want to."

"That's correct."

"Then I don't want to wear clothes you picked out for me." She gestured  to the professional pantsuit draping her body. "I have my own clothes."

He stepped closer and her heart leapt as his heat and scent overwhelmed  her. "I'm a patient man, Rebecca. But we only have the weekend. And it'd  be wise not to push my patience too far."

"I am not-"

"Disobedience comes with a price."

Her heart hammered. "A price?"

"I'll be forced to punish you until I have your compliance. Understand?"

"Punish … me?" she asked, a shiver moving through her, but much to her  surprise it was a shiver from anticipation, not fear. She planted her  hands on her hips, struggling to hold her ground. "Just how do you plan  on punishing me?"

For a brief second she thought she saw the corner of his mouth curl up  in a grin, but his steely control was back in place when he said, "By  taking my hand to your bare ass."

"Oh, God," she squeaked out, a rush of sexual energy hitting her hard.  She gulped air, and before she could get her head on straight, the  vision of her draped over his lap, her ass up in the air as he spanked  her, had her body quivering, almost violently.

Mr. Montgomery looked past her shoulder, and gestured with a nod. She turned to see Michael waiting for her.

"Right this way, ma'am," he said and even though she didn't want to  follow him, she needed reprieve from Mr. Montgomery and the raw, sexual  energy he emitted-not to mention the way it took her from a professional  woman to a wanton hussy in seconds flat.