"For one, while we will most likely have sex, and more than once, the reason I'm taking you there is first and foremost for your safety. My building has excellent security, round the clock."
"And what's the other reason?"
"Isn't your protection enough?"
She shook her head.
"How about, I've decided to not let you out of my sight."
She couldn't help but ask, "Why?"
"Because you're mine."
Possessive. Stated matter-of-fact. And utterly unexpected.
She blinked and tried to process it. She failed. "Excuse me? Did you just say I was yours?"
"Yes."
She should have slapped him for his temerity, not want to melt and plaster him with kisses. She tried to shake the pleasure at his possessive words. "You do realize slavery was abolished. You can't own people."
"Who said anything about being a slave? I can promise, when you are mine"-she noted his use of when, not if-"you won't have any chores to do. I've got more than enough staff to cater to your needs. Well, except for any lusty needs. Those I intend to handle myself."
"So I'm to be your sex slave? How is that any better?"
"Mouse, you have some very messed-up ideas when it comes to men. When I say mine, I mean you're my woman. My mate."
"Um, that sounds kind of permanent. Not to mention a little fast. I mean, just yesterday, weren't you telling me how you wanted me as your mistress and weren't looking for a relationship?"
"I changed my mind."
"Only women get that prerogative."
"I'm the boss, some even call me king." He winked. "I can do whatever I like."
"Narcissist."
"Are we back to alphabet attributes because, when it comes to the letter N, I would have said neat."
"Neat? As in tidy or cool?
"Tidy of course. You'll be glad to know I'm not a man to leave my socks on the floor."
"Because you have staff to pick them up."
"What's the problem with that? It's my neat side that makes me hire them to keep my place in spotless shape. I also have a cook so we always eat well, a tailor, and a massage therapist, who, on second thought, you can't use."
She stupidly asked, "Why not?"
"Because he's a man. No hands but mine are allowed to touch you."
Again, his possessiveness should have appalled her, but dammit, her attraction to control freaks once again reared its head. She tried to laugh off his jealous claim. "Oh my god. I'm stuck in a truck with a mad man." And a rich one.
As he slowed down under a covered portico supported on pillars of marble, Kira couldn't help but gape at the towering building. Story upon story of reflective glass that sparkled in the sunlight.
A valet sprang forth and opened the truck door on her side, but before Kira could grasp the gloved hand to step down, Arik was there, scowling at the fellow in the red uniform trimmed with gold braid.
"I've got her. You take this." He tossed his keys at the fellow. "Don't park it far. I might need it again quickly."
Tucking Kira's arm in the crook of his, he led her to a bank of glass doors, which were so clean they shone with mirror-like brilliance. Kira felt woefully out of place. Even the doorman seemed more impressive than her. She really wished she'd worn something a little more presentable than a comfortable pair of jeans with worn holes in one thigh and knee, a soft dusky rose pullover that had gone through the wash one too many times, and hair hastily slapped into a pony tail. Add to that the worn canvas runners on her feet, and she looked more like someone who should enter through the back entrance as a worker than a guest of one of the condo owners.
Dragging her feet didn't stop Arik from propelling her forward, his large hand firmly pressed against the middle of her back. She could have probably darted away, yet she had a sneaking suspicion he would just chase her down and carry her in, caveman-style. The man seemed bound and determined to protect her from Gregory.
And truthfully, at this point, bemused by the strangeness of it all, she allowed it.
Why not? What did she have to lose? Her methods hadn't worked. The cops hadn't helped. Moving half a country away hadn't stopped Gregory. Why not let Arik and his arrogance take a stab at deterring her ex?
Even if he failed, at least she'd get a moment to relax in comfort-and maybe enjoy some seductive pleasure.
Or she'd go from one bad situation to another. A prisoner with a gilded cage and a much-too-sexy captor.
Chapter Thirteen
Bringing Kira to his home was both brilliant and yet, at the same time, the height of foolishness. Arik knew it, but he did it anyhow. He had his reasons. Valid ones, too. For one, he wasn't exaggerating when he'd mentioned his place had the best security around, and he didn't just mean the actual paid-guard kind. No stranger would make it into the condo tower without someone in his pride noticing-and taking care of it.
That was the smart part of his choice. The foolish part, though, was exposing his human mouse to the females of his pride. Talk about throwing Kira to the lions. But it had to be done at some point. If Kira was going to be a part of his life, then best get her used to the insanity of his family from the get-go-before she discovered the even crazier fact that her mate and his relatives were shapeshifting lions.
Now there was a conversation he wasn't looking forward to. How did one spring the fact that he turned furry, roared, and liked to hunt gazelle, on a woman whose closest encounter with a large feline was probably at a zoo?
Maybe Hayder could find a how-to manual for him.
He'd worry about that later. First, he needed to run the gauntlet of the front lobby so he could get to his home. Home for him was the penthouse suite on the seventeenth floor of the towering condo complex. It should be noted that he owned the entire building and that the units were, for the most part, occupied by members of his pride. There were a few that he rented to friends of his, a mixture of humans and other shifter castes, but for the majority, it was she-cats. And they were all related to him in some shape or fashion, which meant he couldn't hope to sneak in with Kira and not have it noticed, especially since he made it a point to never bring his lady friends home, until now.
As soon as he stepped through those glass doors, from the comfortable couches and chairs set around an open gas-fueled decorative fire pit, lounging bodies perked with interest. Heads swiveled in their direction. Conversations stopped. Eyes followed their steps as they made their way to the elevator. Steps that slowed as Kira shortened her paces until she stood frozen.
"I don't think this is a good idea." She didn't look at him as she said it, but at the staring eyes of his cousins. "I don't belong here."
She did. She just didn't know it yet. "We can talk about it upstairs."
"Or I can just leave right now." She spun on one heel, determined to leave.
As if he'd let that happen. He sidestepped and blocked her. She moved the other way, only to have him block her again.
"Get out of my way. I'm leaving, and you can't stop me."
That made him laugh. "Oh, mouse, when will you learn you can't challenge me and hope to win? We're going upstairs, and that's final." The sooner, the better, as the lionesses were taking too much interest in their repartee, and some were beginning to close in, curiosity drawing them.
This argument needed to cease. He was the alpha-king of my pride, hear me roar-and he needed to act like one. Despite the gossip it would engender with his audience, Arik grabbed Kira around the waist and carried her to the elevator, which opened at his approach.
Lucky for him, none of the pride confronted him before he left the lobby. The not-so-lucky part? They told his mother.
But he wasn't aware of that fact for a whole three minutes. Three minutes he got to spend alone with Kira glaring at him in the elevator.
How cute she looked with her arms crossed under her breasts. He wondered what she'd do if he told her it just tempted him to rile her even more.
She'd probably take the scissors to me again. Problem was, while hair grew back, other parts of his anatomy wouldn't, so perhaps he shouldn't push his luck.
"You know, in some states, I'm pretty sure this is considered kidnapping."
In his world, the laws didn't apply unless he made them. "Isn't kidnapping like a female fantasy in romances? Dashing billionaire abducts lovely hairdresser so that he might do decadent things to her luscious body?"
"This isn't romantic. And there will be no decadent things done to this body." She gestured to her shape, drawing his eye to the curves he longed to explore.