God, she lights my blood on fire. And makes my heart pound out of my chest. And if she wants to run, fine. I want to tell her everything, but I won’t. I can’t.

“Let’s go,” I bite out, wrapping my fingers around her arm.

We get in the car, and I peel out of the parking lot.

She’s pretty when she’s mad. Her pursed, pink lips frown as she glares out the window.

And I curse myself silently for my straying, rampant thoughts. I curse myself for the hold she has on me. She's not the prisoner; I am.

“You still want to run from me?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer but turns slightly in her seat to look at me with loathing.

“Do you?” I ask again as I drive further down the road toward my estate. I’m not far now.

She still doesn’t say a fucking word.

“Answer me. You want to run?”

“Yes,” she shouts, and I pull the car off the road.

“Get out.” I throw the car in park and unlock her passenger door. “Go.”

Her wary eyes hold mine, and she hesitates before her hand lands on the door handle.

“Run,” I urge her.

She opens the door, one leg out, eyes pinning me to my seat, daring me to beg her to stay, or worse: chase her. She opens her succulent lips, as if to say something, but decides against it.

And then she takes off.

“Fuck,” I shout.

I step out of the car, watching her legs take her as fast as they can through the countryside.

She makes it into a thicket of bushes and out of sight as I check my watch.

I lean against the hood of the car, crossing my ankles and pull out my phone. After returning a few emails, I glance up.

And then, there she is, and I can’t breathe.

She sees me, and tears fill her eyes, and I rush to her, swooping her up to cradle her in my arms.

“I’ve got you.” I carry her and place her in the passenger seat of the car.

“You done trying to run away from me?” I ask when I pull into the driveway of my house.

She doesn't look at me. “Yeah, I’m not going to make it very far on foot.”

I carry her into the house and straight into her bathroom.

I set her down and move to draw her a bath. “Get undressed.”

She doesn't move. Just watches me with large questioning eyes that pierce me right in the chest. Because I can't answer what she wants to know. I squeeze a few drops of some bubble bath shit sitting on the edge of the tub into the water.

“Get undressed,” I repeat.

She hesitates. “I can take my own bath.”

The dark smudges under her eyes are making me want to take care of her; protect her. It's a feeling I've repressed since she's been around me. A feeling I used to succumb to regularly when we were kids. Rescue the princess. She never knew the number of assholes I punched in the face defending her honor.

“You’re tired.”

She waves me off. “I’m fine.”

I sit on the edge of the tub, dipping my fingers in to check the water.

“Do I need to help you?”

She grabs the hem of her shirt, exposing her toned stomach, and before she can raise it over her head, she stops. “Turn around, please.”

My heart slams against the confines of my chest. My dick springs to life, begging for one touch of her.

I stand and turn my back to her, closing my hungry eyes and denying them the chance to feast upon her.

A little splash lets me know she’s in the tub.

“Ok, you can turn around now,” she whispers.

When I turn back, her body is hidden beneath a mound of foam. Damn, the bubbles were a bad idea.

I shake her from my head. “Finish up and get a good night’s sleep.”

She watches me closely as I exit the bathroom.

It takes everything in me not to turn around and slide the bubbles away from her sweet tits and suck them into my mouth. I head to my room across the hall and change into black gym shorts and Dodger’s t-shirt, ready to work her out of my pores in the basement gym. Hours later, still hard as a rock from imagining her running her hands all over that fine body, I decide I'm going to hell anyways. What's one more sin?

Her room is dark when I let myself in.

Like a damn obsessed stalker, I pull back the covers.

Motherfucker.

Two large pillows under the down comforter are all that occupy the bed.

My eyes search the room, and she’s nowhere in sight.

I slam my fist against the wall.

Where did you go? I glance around the room, looking for any small clue she could have left behind. There’s nothing.

“I’ll find you,” I mutter to myself.

I leave the room in a flash and head to my security center to look over the footage.

“She’s gone,” I announce to the small group of men watching the grounds. Justin, swivels around in his chair.

“She won't get far,” he assures me.

After several minutes of scanning footage, my irritation rises. I'm not a patient man. “Anything?” I ask.

“Nothing. It’s like she’s vanished.”

A million dollars’ worth of monitors and not one of them has her on it.

“Play back the last half hour. Find her.”

Thirty hidden cameras in the halls and common areas. None in any of the bedrooms.

I stalk back to my office, passing by her room along the way.

There’s a frenzy outside—the lights are on; the dogs are out. She has nowhere to go.

Nowhere to run.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a flash of red hair rushing out of her bedroom door.

There she is.

I follow her.

She has no idea I’m behind her.

She tiptoes, turning each corner carefully. I stalk her like the prey she is. Oh, Rhiannon.

She thinks she can out master me.

I’ll admit, it was smart of her to hide in her room. Then, when the frenzy starts, slip out.

We’ve been focusing on the outside as she makes her way through the house.

Clever girl.

She reaches the side door that leads to the to garage and waits, finding a small alcove to hide herself. Going for a car, smart.

“Hello, Rhiannon. Going somewhere?” I lean against the wall.

She jumps at my words and then brushes her hair over her shoulder. “Actually, yeah, I am. I’m leaving. This is getting real old, so don’t try to stop me, Xavier.”

I laugh. “Rhiannon, sweet little Rhi, I’m not only going to stop you, but now I’m going to punish you as well.”

Her eyes widen. “I’ll put up a fight.”

I swoop in and lift her by her legs, draping her over my shoulder.

“Oh, I hope so. I really hope so.”