Chapter 17
1014 Words
LORENZO
And when we reached the dock and Marco appeared above us, reaching down automatically to take her from me, something ugly moved through me before I could stop it.
No.
My hands tightened around her waist.
Bonnie snapped at him before I had to.
“Don’t touch me.”
Marco froze.
I looked at her.
Then at his hands.
Good.
“Bonnie.”
“I can get up myself.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And yet here you are.”
Yes.
Here I f*****g was.
Soaked.
Freezing.
Watching her drag herself onto the dock because apparently even allowing me to help her would constitute a personal defeat.
One of my men stepped forward.
She pointed at him.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
Another moved.
“You too.”
Both looked at me.
Normally, that would have irritated me.
Tonight it didn’t.
“Let her.”
Bonnie glanced back.
Surprised.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mistake curiosity for permission.”
“I wasn’t planning to thank you twice.”
My mouth twitched.
Then she walked toward her shoes.
Every man on the dock watched.
I noticed.
Immediately.
The reaction was visceral enough to irritate me.
She bent.
Wet skirt stretched over her hips.
My jaw tightened.
One of the men looked a fraction too long.
I memorised which one.
Ridiculous.
She wasn’t mine.
The thought came again.
This time another followed it.
Then stop looking at her.
I almost laughed at myself.
Instead I watched Bonnie sit on the edge of the dock.
She put on one heel.
Slowly.
Then the other.
What the f**k was she doing?
She stood.
And I understood.
Pride.
She was exhausted. Bleeding. Half frozen. Her clothes were destroyed and she’d just lost a fight she would insist until death she had technically won.
But she refused to walk back barefoot.
Then she came toward me.
The heels changed her posture.
Changed the movement of her hips.
Changed absolutely nothing about the fact that she was still soaked and furious.
My eyes dropped anyway.
Once.
Then again.
Her mouth curved.
She had caught me.
I didn’t care.
She stopped in front of me.
“Enjoying the view?”
My own words.
Clever girl.
“I told you already.”
“Yes?”
“Immensely.”
Then she began undoing her blouse.
One button.
My attention dropped.
Two.
Marco coughed.
Three.
I looked at him.
Then at every other man standing on my dock.
No.
Absolutely f*****g not.
“Leave.”
They moved.
Bonnie blinked.
“Seriously?”
“What?”
“You just dismissed them?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Her fingers rested on another button.
My eyes dropped to them.
“Continue and find out.”
She did.
Of course she f*****g did.
Another button.
Then she slipped the wet silk from one shoulder.
The other.
And stood in front of me wearing nothing above the waist but her bra.
I knew what she was doing.
That was the worst part.
Bonnie wanted a reaction.
She wanted to prove she could take some of the control back.
She wanted to make me look.
Fine.
I looked.
There was no reason to insult either of us by pretending otherwise.
She wrung the water from her blouse.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
“You know, if this is your attempt at negotiating your release, your strategy has improved considerably.”
“You wish.”
“Do I?”
Her eyes came to mine.
I stepped closer.
She hadn’t noticed me move.
That pleased me more than it should have.
“Are you expecting a striptease?”
“No.”
My eyes travelled over her.
“But I’m not opposed to surprises.”
“Shame.”
Then she stepped toward me.
Not away.
Toward.
Everything inside me sharpened.
There you are.
Her fingers touched my chest.
The contact was almost nothing.
It felt like considerably more.
She dragged them upward over my wet shirt.
Slowly.
Watching me.
Testing me.
I knew exactly what game she was playing.
I also knew it was working.
My breathing changed.
Barely.
Her eyes lit.
Got me, did you?
My hand settled on her hip.
Her skin was cold.
Soft.
Mine.
Fuck.
I pulled her closer.
Her chest touched mine.
She inhaled.
My fingers spread over her bare waist.
I wanted more skin beneath them.
More of her.
Her face lifted.
My gaze dropped to her mouth.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, bella.”
“So are you.”
She rose onto her toes.
My head lowered.
This time she had come to me.
This time I wasn’t holding her there.
This time, if her mouth reached mine, there would be no ambiguity at all.
Something hot and vicious tightened low in my body.
One more inch.
She smiled.
Too late, I recognised it.
Her knee drove upward.
Pain exploded through me.
“Fuck.”
I released her.
For several seconds, breathing became an activity requiring concentration.
“That,” she said sweetly, “was for the swim.”
I slowly straightened.
She was holding her blouse.
Looking pleased with herself.
I stared at her.
Beautiful.
Insane.
Infuriating.
Mine.
The word landed differently now.
Not a passing impulse.
Not a primitive reaction to having her in my arms.
A decision forming where reason should have been.
She took one step back.
“Don’t.”
I walked toward her.
“Lorenzo.”
Another.
“I mean it.”
I smiled.
She finally ran.
I caught her in three feet.
And when I lifted her from the dock and threw her over my shoulder, her scream tore through the marina.
“Put me down!”
No.
Not anymore.
She could bite.
Kick.
Run.
Swim.
Insult me until she lost her voice.
But somewhere between watching her disappear beneath black water and feeling her body pressed against mine, the problem had changed.
I no longer wanted to decide what to do with Bonnie Powell.
I already knew.
I was taking her with me.
And God help whichever one of us eventually tried to pretend she wasn’t mine.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD