Page 9 of Temptation
“I can and I will… until I know you and my kids are safe.” His words promise safety, but his tone makes them sound like a prison sentence.
“But—”
“End of discussion.” He pushes past me, ready to leave me alone to process the information he’s just thrown at me.
“Wait. You can’t just decide—”
Again, he cuts me off. “I feel like you quite underestimate what I can or can’t do,Ms. Walsh.”
He turns around, his hand on the door handle, a smirk on his lips. “You will stay here… as the children’s nanny or as my captive,” he pauses, his words hanging heavily in the air. “That’s the only choice you have, and I suggest you choose wisely.”
I nearly chuckle. Nearly break out in a loud laugh. Not because I find his words amusing, but because of the hysteria building inside me, threatening to overwhelm me.
That’s not a choice he’s giving me; I am his prisoner one way or the other.
“Do we have a deal?”
The room starts to spin again, bile rising in my throat. I’m on the verge of losing it, my body reacting to the overdose ofadrenaline coursing through my veins. “Yes. I’ll take care of Maddy and Flynn.” My voice is barely a whisper, and I’m unsure he heard me. But it doesn’t matter. It’s not a real choice. I doubt he cares about my consent. Without another glance, he pulls the door closed behind him, and I hear the lock click into place. The sound reverberates through the room with finality.
So much about not being a prisoner.
What a cruel joke at my own expense.
I feel myself sway, a new wave of nausea making it hard to stand. I stagger back to the bed, sinking down into the soft mattress. One moment, I’m a preschool teacher living a boring life, and the next, I’m thrust into a world of crime and darkness.
This whole situation is ridiculous and surreal. Terrifying and all too real.
I let myself fall back onto the bed, covering my face with my hands and suppressing a frustrated scream. The weight of my reality threatens to crush me, to consume me whole. What bothers me most is that Fabrizio Moretti is, without a doubt, the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on. His muscular physique, broad shoulders, and chiseled face with the angular jaw framed by dark hair… It’s another cruel joke, mocking everything I once believed in.
Unfortunately, a handsome face and a well-tailored suit can’t change the kind of person he is. A monster is a monster, no matter how attractive the packaging. And yet…that’s a thought I can’t shake, a constant reminder putting my attraction at war with my disgust and fear. And it makes my attraction to him even more twisted. It’s not that I want to feel this way, but the thrill I get when he’s close or touching me is something I’ve never experienced before. It’s a dangerous sensation that contradicts all logic, leaving me feeling lost and confused. That scares me even more than the man himself.
Three
Fabrizio
As the door clicks shut behind me, I let out a deep sigh, the tension in my chest finally easing. I lean back against the solid wood, my mind reeling with the implications of what almost happened.
What the fuck am I doing?
The question echoes through my head, tinged with disbelief and a touch of self-loathing. I can’t believe I was just inches away from kissing her.
My children’s teacher.
A potential accomplice in an attack on them.
My captive.
The thought sends a wave of guilt crashing over me, but it’s quickly replaced by a thrill of anticipation.
The muffled scream and muttered profanities from behind the locked door bring an involuntary smirk to my lips.
I can almost picture her pacing back and forth in the confines of the room, cheeks flushed with anger, eyes blazing with defiance.
Despite her seemingly demure appearance, there’s a palpable force of electricity surrounding the woman. She’s as fiercely captivating as she is beautiful, a potent combination that leaves me breathless.
Although she isn’t the type I’d usually find myself drawn to, I can’t deny the sudden twitch of my cock in my pants. The longing I sense building inside me comes as a shock, a foreign feeling after so long. That’s probably what happens when you live like a monk for more than three years, not allowing yourself to notice any woman.
Three years, five months, and thirteen days of self-imposed celibacy have apparently lowered my resistance.
