Ione doesn’t respond to that, funnily enough. Instead, she asks another question.
“How on earth did you get me out of your apartment block? Did you just do a runner with me draped over your shoulders?” I blink as I stare deep into those eyes. They are mesmerizing. They are such an unusual shade of blue, you could probably get on the cover of Vogue with them.
“No. My neighbor caught me last time. I had to change tactics.” This is true. There was no way Mrs. Yarrow was going to get any more ammunition for the WI meeting that was held every Tuesday evening at the village hall. She’d got more than enough as it was for this week.
“Well?” she prods.
I can’t believe she wants to know. That should be the last thing on her mind at the moment, considering the unpleasant predicament she’s found herself in, but I’ll give her this – she never fails to surprise me.
“Are you sure you want me to tell you?” I don’t think she does, but women are curious creatures. This one appears to be more so than most.
“Yes.” The word is firm. Fine, if she wants to know, I’ll tell her. To each their own.
“I put you in a wheelie bin.” Watching as her face scrunches up in horror, I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing at her. “You asked.” Rolling over onto my side, my eyes twist with hers. When I’m finished with her, I might ask James to send me the video footage back to my phone. Some mementos of my time with her might be nice.
“Please tell me you cleaned it first.” Ione tries her best to examine herself, but it isn’t the easiest, as she can barely raise her torso from the bed. She can relax.
“I used the recycling bin.” Now I do grin.
“That makes me feel so much better.”
“I’m glad you feel better. You were a bugger to squash into that thing.”
Ione grunts, before closing her eyes and pushing her head back into the pillow. I immediately miss those blue orbs upon me. For some reason, they soothe me.
“Do you need an aspirin or some water?” Look at me, all caring and concerned. The woman is going to think I have a serious Jekyll and Hyde problem by the time we get to the warehouse I’ve just rented. Adrien ‘schizophrenic’ Dumortier. Hmm, catchy.
“Both. It’s nice to see you like your victims hale and hearty before you start taking chunks out of them. I’d admire that trait in a man.” Her eyes darken as she dishes out her sarcasm. Forget the turquoise blue of a Caribbean Sea. We’re now talking the sky minutes before darkness enfolds it. They are a crepuscular delight. I learnt that word the other day from a book. It’s a creepy way of saying twilight. Hey, I’m a creepy guy.
“That’s the spirit,” I say, thoroughly amused. “Keep that going for the next twenty-four hours and you’ll breeze through what I’m going to dish out.” That’s probably overly optimistic, but there’s no point scaring her witless just yet.
Ione looks at me and sucks in a breath before her lip wobbles.
“I doubt that,” she whispers. Something inside me tugs painfully. I don’t enjoy seeing her like this. I prefer the smartass mouth and her frosty glares. Those deep-blue eyes make me want to melt her from the very top of her head all the way down to the tips of her toes. That’s if she can even be defrosted, but to be honest, I’m enjoying her arctic demeanor.
“Hey,” I say gently, running a finger along her cheekbone. “Why don’t we call James now? Maybe we can put an end to this nastiness with a simple phone call.” It’s possible.
“What and spoil all your fun? You’d feel horribly deprived,” she bites back, glowering at me once again. All traces of vulnerability have now disappeared, and I wonder if I have just imagined the last few seconds.
Sitting up on my elbows, I nod and say, “Good point. We need to go a couple of rounds, right? It’d be an awful shame if I couldn’t make you all better after I’ve finished pulling you to pieces. That’s the best part.” Placing my hand on her thigh, Ione visibly stiffens beneath me. She’s still fighting the attraction. This one is a spitfire. I’m going to enjoy watching her shatter. Little does she know, but there is no way you can hope to win against a Dumortier. You’d have more success trying to walk on water. Once we set our mind to something, we conquer or annihilate. There is no middle ground. There is no in between. You’re either with us or you’re dead – and I can’t kill her. Even I have standards. Besides, James would be on my back for the rest of my life, which means I’d need to have him killed as well, and that would prove problematic. He’s still family, even though he stole my girl. He’ll pay for that, though. Before the day is out, I’ll have him on his knees.
“Fuck you,” she whispers again, turning her head away. She should know better than to say that to me. It’s just more ammunition for a fire that’s already burning bright.
With my hand slowly running up her thigh, I say, “You will be, in nearly every way you can imagine, princess. If you’re not a very imaginative person, then you’ll be fucking me in a lot more ways, too. Now sheath that viperish tongue, woman. It would be a shame to have to slap you around before the games begin.” I actually mean that for a change. The war between us doesn’t need to start just yet. There’ll be plenty of time for that later. Removing my hand from her leg, just before it reaches the apex of her thighs, I decide I’d better go in search of some water. My feet are reluctant to leave the room, however. It’s almost as if I’m waiting for the sarcastic, pithy reply that must surely be on the tip on her tongue.
As if sensing my mood, though, her teeth then snap together to prevent herself from saying anything she’ll regret. I smile. She can obey instructions. There’s hope for her yet.
Leader
When Adrien leaves the room, I let my body finally relax, sucking in a giant breath of air. When he’s close, everything inside me seems to clench itself up tight, as if waiting for something unpleasant to happen. As soon as the thought enters my head, though, I know it’s not true. The thought of pain is not what’s frying my internal circuits. That’s not what I’m scared of. It’s the memory of my first decent orgasm under a man’s hand. That’s what’s going to haunt me. That bastard has stolen something from me that I promised myself no man would ever take. He’ll suffer for it, too, just as soon as I can escape from this clusterfuck of a mess. Speaking of which…
Wriggling my wrists and ankles, it doesn’t take me long to figure out that my captor is a whizz with knots. That’s not exactly an Einstein revelation, Mel. He’s done this shit for years with poor, unsuspecting females, whom he’s later sold to sick and depraved men for ridiculous sums of money. He has no conscience. There is no remorse in those devastatingly attractive features. I am just another in a long line of females that have fallen into his hands and if I don’t want to go down the same way they did, I need to get myself out of here.
It’s not going to be easy. If the noise outside is anything to go by, we’re around thirty thousand feet up in the air and heading for God knows where. My worst-case scenario has landed with a massive thud, and this is quite possibly one of the stickiest situations I have ever found myself in, and this comes from a person who prides herself on being non-stick. Think silicon. Before I go into a job, I’ve always got at least three escape routes, and a back-up plan if those go to shit. Today, I’ve got nothing. Nada. Which means I need to come up with something fast or be prepared to suffer the consequences.