Judge (Breeding #5)(23)

“Paris.” I can hear the dreamy sigh in my voice. The millions of love stories I’ve read about this city dance through my head.

“Me too.” He gives me a little wink. I feel myself blush, not used to this kind of attention and feeling even more awkward.

“Next!” is barked at me, making me jump.

I turn back and see the line has moved and I’m up next. I rush up to the security box, handing the man my passport and ticket. He takes them from me and looks down at them.

The man looks intimidating. His head is shaved and the white shirt he’s wearing is stretched tight against his body. It shows off the muscles that could take almost anyone in a fight. Tattoos run down his arms, and I see them move with every flex of his hands. He puts my ticket and passport down, and I watch as he puts a finger to his ear. It’s then I see a small earpiece. I think he’s listening to someone. His eyes shoot up to me and stare for a moment. His cold eyes bore into me, and then they snap away.

He stands. “You need to come with me,” he tells me, picking up my passport and plane ticket.

I stand there shocked. Did I do something wrong? I glance back to the blond guy, whose eyebrows are raised as he watches what’s happening. I feel a little panic set in.

“I-I…” I stumble over my words, trying to think. “Is something wrong?”

“Ma’am, like I said, you need to come with me.” He reaches out to grab my arm, but stops suddenly right before his hand lands on me. He pauses for a moment. “This way.” He retracts the hand that was going to grab me and points in the direction he wants me to go.

I pause for a second but then decide to follow him. What choice do I have? His chest says Security on it and so does the badge he’s wearing. I’ve been taught to follow the law my entire life, and if this is the one thing standing between me and Paris, then I will follow him.

He uses a keycard to open a side door that leads down a long hallway. I follow him, staying silent as I watch him from behind. When we reach the end of the hall, we get to another door. He opens it, ushering me in. The only things in the room are a metal table and two metal chairs.

“Have a seat,” he tells me. I slip my backpack off and sit down.

He leans down and picks up my bag. I want to demand he give it back, but he’s striding from the room before I can say anything. The door shuts behind him, and I hear a lock click into place. Suddenly I’m alone and I have no idea what’s happening.

Maybe I should have listened to Larsa this morning and not left. She said I was too young, too na?ve about the world. Maybe she was right, because I have no idea what’s happening right now.

Time ticks by as I wait and wait.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the door opens. Only it’s not the man from before who greets me. I thought the man who brought me here was intimidating, but this guy takes it to a whole new level. I feel the breath leave my lungs at the size of him.

Dark, intense eyes meet mine as he steps into the small room, making it seem even smaller. He shuts the door behind him, and the click of the lock echoes in the empty space. He takes a step toward me. He has to be over a foot taller than my five foot three. He’s enormous. His hair is dark and cut short, military style. His black button-up shirt makes it look like his muscles want to escape from it. Big, beefy arms pull tight against the material, and I’m surprised it doesn’t rip when he moves them. He screams Special Forces or something badass, and I feel my heartbeat pick up.

What is going on here? “Who was the boy behind you in line?” he asks. His voice is deep and holds an edge to it. I look at him in confusion.

“Who?” I hear the small tremble in my voice. His eyes narrow on me as he takes a step closer.

“The boy you were taking to in line.” He grits it out.

I stare up at him as he looms over me in my chair. He reaches out and grasps a lock of my hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “He had blond hair,” he adds, not letting go of mine.

“I don’t know him,” I admit as it clicks who he’s talking about. Maybe all this is about him.

He drops my hair but keeps his eyes trained on me, making me squirm in my chair and I have to look away. His eyes are too intense to hold. I feel his finger come to my chin as he softly guides me to look back at him.

He strokes my chin gently before he grips it in a firm possessive hold. “Good, because you’re about to get to know me.”



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