What have I done? Is he a detective or something? Is that why he was in front of the police station? Am I about to go to prison?
“This has been a horrible misunderstanding. I’m so sorry. I’ll just grab my bag and go.” I take one lunging step forward to escape around him when his hand whips out lightning fast and manacles around my throat. He doesn’t restrict my breathing, but the gesture isn’t friendly either. It’s also not something a cop would do—not a good one, anyway. He’s making a statement about who’s in charge, and I receive that message with perfect clarity.
“I don’t think so,Danika,” he says in an eerily calm voice, making a point to show that he remembers my name. “Considering this is the second time you’ve orchestrated a run-in with me, you’re not going anywhere.”
CHAPTER 5
TOMMY
Seeingthose wide green eyes again made me wonder for an instant if my obsessive tendencies had finally escalated to the point of hallucinations. However, with my hand circling her throat and her feminine scent invading my lungs, I can’t deny reality. Danika Dobrev, the feisty redhead with a man problem, is here in my apartment.
Why? What does she want, and who is she working for? Is she undercover for the DEA or sent by one of our rivals, and if so, for what purpose? Either way, she’s shit at her job. She’s drawn so much attention to herself that she might as well be wearing a neon sign. If she thought tossing out the name of the man I bought this place from was going to erase my suspicions, she’s a fool. Anyone with a computer and half a brain could look that information up online.
She’s come after me for a reason, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.
Later.
Fortunately for her, I have somewhere to be.
I tuck my gun in my waistband, then spin her around to secure her hands in mine and direct her to the back bedroom.
“Please, I know it sounds crazy, but I swear it’s all a coincidence,” she pleads, panic flaring in her voice. She’s shit at being covert, but her acting is spot-on.
“Nice try, but you’ll have to do better than that.” I nudge her forward.
“What do you mean? You can’t keep me here.”
“Says the girl who broke in.”
She looks back at me pleadingly, resisting my prods forward. “I told you, it was a mistake. Please, don’t do this.Please.”
Her voice pitches high with elevated fear, which pisses me off because I don’t like it. She sounds terrified, and what’s worse is she’s probably just playing me. I shouldn’t be the least bit affected. So why do I find myself begrudgingly reassuring her?
“Look at me,” I instruct firmly, turning her as much as I can while still keeping her hands secure behind her. “I’m not going to hurt you if you don’t give me a reason to,” I bite out. “I have somewhere to be, but you can’t leave until you tell me what the fuck is going on, so you’re going to chill for a bit.”
“What does that mean?” Her wide eyes dart around as though she’s searching for a way to escape. “Maybe you should just call the police and let them sort it out.”
I don’t answer her and have to use more force to overcome her increased resistance as we turn down the dark hallway to the two guest rooms. It doesn’t get any easier when I stop at a closet and grab a roll of duct tape.
When the designer outfitted each bedroom with a random chair, I’d thought it was pointless clutter but let her do her thing. She probably hadn’t expected me to tie a woman to one of them, but regardless, her idea was more practical than I realized. The compact yet cushioned corner chair in the far back bedroom will serve nicely to contain my little intruder until I’m ready to deal with her.
“Sit.” I motion to the chair.
She looks like she’s going to argue, then glances at the bed before scurrying over to the chair. I’m not crazy about her thinking I’m a rapist, but whatever gets her cooperation works for me.
“You don’t have to do this. Just lock me in the room. Or call the police on me.” Her words are rushed and urgent.
I ignore them and make quick work of taping her wrists and ankles to the arms and legs of the chair. When I rip one last piece of tape for her mouth, she’s engulfed in panic. Eyes wide, her nostrils flare as I press the tape over her rosy lips. Within seconds, her breathing intensifies to rapid panting. She’s straining against the tape and seconds away from hyperventilating.
I place my hands on either side of her face and draw her frantic stare to mine. “Danika, listen to me,” I say quietly. “Breathe with me.” I take a slow, steady breath in through my nose, then out. She does the same, her entire focus centered on me in a way that makes me feel like a king. Like I have the power to move mountains if only because she believes I can. It’s a heady sensation that does nothing to dim my unhealthy fixation on this woman.
We repeat the process three times until she regains control of herself. Once she’s no longer at risk of passing out, I force my hands away from her, which takes more willpower than I care to admit.
“I’ll be gone for an hour—no more. Then we’ll discuss what you’re doing in my apartment, understood?”
She nods, tears welling in her eyes.
Fuck me.
