looking down at her hands twisted in her lap. Her pale hair lay over her shoulders and streamed down her back, gleaming in the sun like new minted gold.
There was a stillness to her now, that vibrating energy muted. ‘So what’s going to happen now then?’
‘What do you mean, what’s going to happen now?’ I frowned. ‘Nothing’s going to happen now. You’re my prisoner and you stay here. End of story.’
‘I don’t care about that.’ She lifted her head. ‘What I want to know is when you’re going to ruin me. I mean, that’s what you said you were going to do.’ Something that looked a lot like disappointment glittered in her eyes. ‘Or did you not mean it?’
Imogen
YES, I WAS disappointed and, even though I tried, I couldn’t hide it.
Last night when he’d shown me to my room and told me there was no point escaping because the whole house was surrounded by his men, I’d been expecting him to continue what he’d started with that kiss.
But he hadn’t. He’d pointed out the en suite bathroom then left.
It was a bit of an unhappy surprise after I’d decided that he was the perfect way to get my revenge on Dad.
I’d decided not to argue about it, though. I was tired anyway and consoled myself with the thought that maybe I could ask him about it the next day.
So I’d lain down on the bed fully dressed, shut my eyes and had gone out like a light.
It had been the best sleep I’d had in years, and that dream I’d had about him had really helped.
My very naughty dream.
I’d had sex dreams in the past, usually involving faceless men who would touch me and then walk away, leaving me hot and aching and restless with feelings I didn’t understand.
But not last night. Last night I’d dreamed I’d stayed in that van and this time the man wasn’t faceless. He had rough, blunt, handsome features and eyes the colour of a winter sky. And he’d watched me as I pulled up my dress, telling me what to do in his deep, harsh voice...
God, so hot. And now there was an ache between my legs, a throbbing heat. I wanted him to touch me, to make good on all the threats he’d delivered the night before, but, given the way he was standing there, the expression on his face utterly impassive, it was obvious he had no intention of doing so.
Dammit.
Did that mean that my one and only chance for getting back at Dad, of having any kind of choice about being with a man I
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