A Single Glance (Irresistible Attraction #1)(14)

And little Miss Bethany sits in the middle of the bed, worn out and oblivious.

Her hair’s a chaotic halo around her shoulders. The faint light from the setting sun casts a shadow around her, but it highlights her hair and when she tucks a strand behind her ear, it hits her face. Her fair skin’s so smooth, it tempts me to brush my fingertips against it. The light falls to the dip in her neck, to the hollow there and it dares me to kiss her in that spot.

My cock hardens as I wonder what sounds would spill from her lips if I were to do just that.

“Looks like you had some fun.” My voice comes out harder than I anticipated, startling her. She practically screams and slams her book shut as her body jostles.

She stands abruptly, backing off of the bed and clutching the book to her side as she squares her shoulders. “Let me go.”

The huff comes back to me, but this time it’s with a hint of humor.

“You’re good at making demands when you have no authority, aren’t you?” I question her, feeling a smirk play at my lips.

Silence. It’s so fucking silent in this room, I think I can hear her heart pounding.

“Did you think destroying your room would … upset me?” I ask her with a deliberate casual tone to my question. Rounding the bed, moving closer to her, I kick a scrap of broken wood away from me. I follow her gaze as she glances at it, and then to the chunk of wood she left on the bed where she was sitting.

“Leave it there.” I give her the command and watch her resist the urge to lunge toward it.

Her plump lips tug into a feigned smile. It’s faint, but it’s there. She is a fighter. There’s no denying that.

“Did you want to anger me, Bethany?”

She flinches every time I say her name. That hint of a smile vanishes and the smoldering hate returns.

“I don’t care what you do with this room. I won’t be cleaning it up.” I shrug as I add, “I hope it calmed you down to make such a mess.”

With a gentle shake of her head, she huffs a humorless laugh at me then says, “Whatever you do to me, know that it won’t hurt me. Whatever it is, I’ll give you nothing.”

She practically sneers her words, even as her eyes gloss over.

“We need to come to an agreement, and seeing as how you’ve gotten some of your… displaced anger out of the way-”

“Fuck you. I’m not agreeing on a damn thing with--”

“Not even to get the hell out of here?” I ask and cut her off.

The anger wanes from a boil to a simmer as her glare softens. “Just like that?” she asks skeptically.

“I don’t want to keep you locked up… breaking all my shit.” I make a point of kicking a piece of broken wood to the side. “I didn’t plan this. And I want something else.”

“So you’re going to just let me go?”

“Once we come to an agreement, that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”

Shock lights her eyes, but so does skepticism.

“Do you think you can be reasonable this time?” I ask her, feeling I have the upper hand via the element of surprise.

“You fucking kidnapped me,” she scoffs, the control leaving her in an instant. I watch as her knuckles turn white from how she grips the book so damn hard.

I take another stride forward to the end of the bed, and now only a few feet and a puddle of cotton linens stands between us.

Bethany takes a half step back, but when she tries to take another, her heel hits the balled-up curtain on the floor behind her. The wall is next.

“You tried to shoot me.” My words cut through the air, leaving no room for negotiation as I add, “You should be dead for trying something so stupid.”

At my last word, she steps behind the bundle of fabric at her feet, pressing her back to the wall. Her body trembles even as she utters the words, “Fuck you.”

“I’m sure a well-read woman such as yourself has a wider vocabulary to choose from,” I taunt and then nod to the book in her hand. “What is it?”

She breathes in and out, staring at me and refusing to speak.

“What book are you reading?” I ask her with less patience.

“I don’t know,” she answers, not taking her eyes from me.

“Now you’re deliberately pissing me off,” I tell her without any attempt at hiding the irritation.

“I don’t know,” she repeats, raising her voice, and her words come out hoarse. All that screaming she did caused more harm than good.

“Bullshit,” I grit out and reach for the book, pissed off that she’s being so stubborn, so resistant. With a single lunge forward, I grip the book in my hand, the other finding her hip to pin her against the wall.

“No!” she screams out at me, ripping the book away, and the thin pages on top nearly rip off without the cover to shield them. She turns her small body away from me as I press my chest against her. Barely managing to turn herself to face the wall, she cradles the book against her chest with both hands, concealing it from me. “It’s my sister’s.” Her words are more of a cry than anything else, but the tone of them holds her explanation. “It’s the last thing she gave to me,” she bellows against the wall.

“I just got it yesterday; I don’t know what book it is.” Her voice lowers as her shoulders shudder. “There’s no cover and I don’t know what it is.”