Chapter Six

Roman

Driving home, I scowl at the dark gray sky. The blizzard stalled to the north, dumping more snow on those towns with every passing hour. The massive storm will arrive sometime in the night. Perfect. I’m doubly glad I have Tessa in my grasp. Almost.

I tamp down my frustration and concerns. She was bleeding. I’m sure it’s a wound on her hand, and not too serious, but still, I don’t like that she’s hurt and alone. She’s probably fainted too. This girl stirs up all sorts of protective urges inside me. I can’t stop thinking about her but imagining her hurt or in pain hits me hard.

I grip the wheel tightly as anger flows through my veins. I heard the suspicion in her voice when she asked about an arrangement. She thinks I’m some sort of predator. I want her, no doubt about that, but I’m not the type of man to coerce a woman into bed. And I’m not the type of man to shove or bruise a woman like her roommate’s boyfriend. How will I make her see that I want to protect her from predators?

I park the car, jog to the private elevator and go up to my penthouse. I had hoped to do this with a little more finesse, not just burst in on her, but if she says she’s bleeding, I have no choice. I don’t think Tessa is in grave danger, but she’s hurt. Blood means she needed help.

I wanted to explain things gently, so Tessa wouldn’t be shocked or even afraid. Now she might be both, but there wasn’t anything I can do about that.

The doors slide open. I step into the penthouse. “Tessa?” I say quietly.

I walk past the dining room, noting the debris on the floor, and continue down the hallway. When I get to the end of the hallway, I hear a noise coming from the guest bathroom.

“Tessa, don’t be afraid.” I enter the guest room. “It’s Roman.”

She sits on the floor, pale and stricken-looking, tissue wound around her hand. Shaking her head, she stares at me with wide-eyed disbelief.

I crouch beside her, take her hand and pull the tissue away.

“Roman… Savage,” she murmurs.

“That’s right.”

The cut isn’t deep, but it spans more than half her palm. I go to the medicine cabinet and get a tube of ointment and a box of Band-Aids.

“I washed it already,” she says.

I smile at her. “Good girl.”

She doesn’t smile back. “You tricked me.”

I can see the hard look in her eyes. Aaaand here we go. She’s not going to cooperate. I squeeze ointment onto the bandage and cover the wound with the dressing. Tamping the bandage down gently, I make certain it’s going to adhere. “I could say the same about you.”

She narrows her eyes.

“You tricked me, Tessa. Didn’t you?”

I keep her hand in mine. It’s delicate and I’d like to lace my fingers through hers, but that can’t happen now. I let my smile fade and give her a stern look. “Breaking and entering is a crime, Tessa.”

“I had a key. The one Margie gave me.”

“Then she’s complicit.”

Fear and anger shadow her eyes. She tugs her hand free. “Are you threatening to have me arrested?”

“We don’t need to involve the police. Do we?”

“This is blackmail.”

“I’d rather think of it as hardball. I’m upping my game to make sure you don’t have to live anywhere near your roommate or her boyfriend. You’ll live here. With me. You’ll pay off the cost of the vase by making me dinner five nights a week. We’ll go out the other two nights. If I have an evening function, you’ll go with me.”

Her eyes flash with indignation. “As your date?”

“That’s right. My date.”

I get up, offer her my hand to help her rise. She ignores me. “What about your girlfriend?”

“What girlfriend?”

“The doorman delivered a bunch of bags and boxes today. Women’s clothes.”

Was that jealousy I hear in her voice? “I don’t have a girlfriend. But I do have a very well-dressed personal chef.”

Intense surprise lights her eyes. The fringe of her lashes flies up. Her eyes grow large. She steps past me, a little unsteady on her feet. Her hand trembles as she points. “You bought all that for me?”

“Technically, my shopping service picked out the clothes.”

“Shopping service…”

“I didn’t want you to have to go back to the apartment you share with Chelsea. The sizes should be close. If not, they’ll exchange anything you want.”

I can tell she’s overwhelmed. She’s had a rough week. It started with her getting in a fight with a bully and getting injured. Then she broke the vase and got injured once more, and now I’m blackmailing her. Yeah. Tough week. I should feel a twinge of guilt, but I don’t.

I’m sorry she got hurt, but I’m also gripped by the thrill of winning my prize, because she is my prize. She won’t get hurt anymore, not here with me. She’s cornered, and I’m not going to let her out of that corner until she accepts my offer.

Her phone chimes with a message. She glances at it, furrowing her brow. “Chelsea wants to know if I’m making dinner.”

“Tell her you don’t live there anymore.”

Her lips part with surprise. After a moment of stunned silence, she responds to the text. “My boss has kidnapped me,” she mutters as she types the words.

“I like the sound of that.”

Instantly her phone chimes, and she reads the text aloud. “Awesome.” She shakes her head. “She thinks I’m kidding.”

I step closer, not enough to crowd her, but close enough to get her attention. “You’re not going back there, Tessa.”

“You can’t tell me that.”

I sigh, knowing the conversation was going to veer south with her arguing and giving me attitude. And then I’d have to act like a dick to keep her from doing something dumb. After years or working with clients who think they know better than me, I’m used to laying down the law.

“That vase cost almost fifteen grand. I intend to recoup my money. If you get knocked around by your roommate’s boyfriend, I won’t get my investment back, will I?”

“I’m an investment?” she whispers.

“Right. You’re staying here. You can leave when you need to go shopping but you’ll clear it with me.”

Shock gives way to anger. My body responds to the fire in her eyes. Blood courses through my veins, turning my cock to steel. I’d been in a state of semi-arousal the moment I stepped into the penthouse, knowing she was near. Now lust roars through my body, making my self-control slip.

“I’m your prisoner?”

“I can’t have you coming and going as you please. What if you run off? How am I going to get my money back?”

She eyes me warily. “What exactly…” her voice drifts off. “Are my duties?”

Lie back on the bed. Let me strip you down and devour you.

That’s what I want to say, but I won’t right now. She’s mine, but she’s a present I need to wait to open. I need to offer more to her a little at a time, so she doesn’t think I’m some sort of stalker. “Your duties are the same as they have been.”

A small panicked sound huffs from between her plump lips. She blinks. Waits.

A strand of hair, a soft curl, has escaped her ponytail. I grasp it between my thumb and forefinger. Inside me a battle wages. I want to protect her. I want to own her.

“Last night, you walked right into that freezer, didn’t you? Not even thinking about someone following you into a sound-proof, isolated room, am I right?”

She draws a breath. To argue, I’m sure of that.

I shake my head and give her a look of warning to stop her. “You’ve got to be more careful.”

A thought takes hold in my mind. A game of cat and mouse. A game where I lie in wait for her, she has to evade capture and fight me off when I grab her. I’d show her how to escape if a guy grabs her and a few other moves. My cock hardens at the idea of sparring with her, wrestling with her while showing her how to escape my hold on her.

I hadn’t planned on trying to show her how to take better care of her surroundings. And yet, it fits. She strolled into the freezer last night, like she was taking a walk in the park. Anyone could have followed her in and done any number of bad things. Someone trailing behind her and pulling the door shut. I grit my teeth. Just the idea makes me feel dangerous.

She doesn’t say anything. The seconds drag past. I release her lock of hair. Suddenly she looks so scared, I want to wrap around her and shelter from bad thing in the world. Including me. Maybe especially me.