“Sign.”
Rather than bother with an answer, she grabs the pen and promptly hurls it across the room. The only sound is her huffing and the metallic skittering of the pen as it dances down the floor.
I’ve never experienced this side of her. Not in full force like this, at least I remember seeing flashes of it during our one night together. Enough heat to suggest a roaring fire somewhere deep inside her soul.
Seeing it in action certainly doesn’t disappoint.
A side door opens and shuts. Bogdan steps in, just in time for the pen to come to a rest at his feet. He picks it up and joins us at the altar.
As he hands it back to Cami, her eyes lock onto his face and recognition washes over her.
“You…”
He smiles mournfully. “I’m the guy who screwed up six years ago,” he says.
I expect her to hit back with some sarcastic retort. But instead, she shakes her head. “It was five against one. You couldn’t have stopped them all.”
“But I should have.”
She frowns. “Where’s the logic in that?”
“If you knew our father, you’d understand.”
She glances at me, making note of the relationship.
“Listen, Camila,” Bogdan says gently, “this is happening. It’s going to be a lot easier if you just sign on the dotted line.”
I grit my teeth. Of course he would try and reason with her, whereas I want to bend the brat over the desk and spank her into compliance.
My first instinct is always force.
Bogdan’s is diplomacy.
“I’m not going to be forced into marriage,” she says sharply. “This isn’t right.”
“My brother can protect you.”
“Your brother?” she scoffs. “Your brother ruined my life six years ago. And just when I’m on the verge of getting it back, here he is again. Excuse me for not jumping for joy.”
My patience is wearing thin. Bogdan can sense it.
“Camila—”
“Enough!” I roar.
Camila jumps and screams. She’s only ever seen the charming side of me. The smooth-talking velvet devil, the billionaire playboy who gave her the night she could never forget.
She doesn’t know how deep the darkness runs.
But she will. One shadow at a time.
“This is not up for discussion,” I snarl when the echoes of my voice have faded. “If you don’t sign, I’ll be forced to make you.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I guess you’ll have to make me then.”
Fuck if the woman doesn’t know exactly how to get me hard.
“So be it.”
I move fast. Before Camila can even react, I’m on her. Hips pressed against hers from behind, her scent in my nose, I wrench her left hand behind her back like I’m cuffing her and envelop her right hand in my own.
“Let me go!” she yells, thrashing wildly.
She doesn’t stand a fucking chance.
I grab her right hand and force it down towards the paper. CLICK goes the pen, and then I scribble it over the blank line and release her instantly.
She stumbles away from me, nearly losing her balance again. Her hair is a wild lioness’s mane around her head. Her dress is sagging off one shoulder, revealing that delicate little collarbone.
The same thought crosses my mind that popped up the moment she walked in: this little kiska is a fucking revelation.
As if it just occurred to her, Cami turns and tries to flee for the exit. She makes it about two steps before Bogdan coolly slides into her path. I hear the breath rush from her lungs as she collides with him.
She falls. He stays still as a statue.
“I thought you’d be the nicer brother,” she growls up at him from the floor.
He chuckles. “I’m not surprised. Everyone makes that assumption. I’m flattered, though, really.”
“It’s not a compliment if it’s not true!”
“Oh, but it is true,” he insists as he lifts her up from the ground. “You’ll see that soon enough.”
“Or how about now?” I suggest.
I’m done with the games. Time’s wasting. Coming here like this was a risk anyway, and now I’m ready to get the fuck out.
So I step forward as Cami is still regaining her balance, scoop her up, and throw her over my shoulders like a sack of potatoes. She starts to scream and pound my pack with her flailing fists. I barely feel it.
We burst through the main doors and out into the lobby. People look, but if anyone was considering intervening in this debacle, they change their mind as soon as they see the ice-cold cruelty in my eyes.
I’m not a man to be fucked with.
Cami will learn that soon enough.
My Trasco armored Mercedes-Benz is parked right outside, flanked by a handful of my men. One of them opens the door to the rear compartment.
“Where are you taking me?” Camila cries from somewhere over my shoulder.
“Home,” I answer simply.
The boys snicker as I toss her down on the cushioned reclinable seat and quickly fasten the seat belt across her chest. I’d be lying if I don’t admit that I enjoy that part quite a bit.
When she’s buckled in, I grab her face in my hand and turn her towards me. “Sit quiet and enjoy the ride, kiska,” I snarl.
Then I step back and slam the door in her face.
Bogdan is waiting for me on the other side of the vehicle. “Congrats, sobrat,” he says.
“Shut up.”
His smile only gets wider. “She’s gotten even more beautiful over the last six years,” he points out.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Do you have a point?”
He shrugs. “Just saying. As far as forced marriages go, you lucked out.”
“You can ride in the second Wrangler.”
“Oh, come on, don’t be an asshole!”
I shove him towards it. “It’ll leave without you if you’re not careful.”
“Ah, I see what it is. You want some alone time with your beloved. I’ll get out of your way. Still laughing, Bogdan walks off towards the Wrangler parked right behind the Benz.
Scowling, I get into the back beside Camila and tap the driver’s seat in front of me. The partition rolls up at once, cutting us off from the front of the vehicle and ensconcing us in the soundproof compartment.
“You realize this is abduction, right?” she asks as soon as we start moving.
“Abduction? I think you’re confused. You’re my wife. Where I go, you go.”
Her green eyes are bright with denial. “I am no such thing. If I go before any court of law and say that I was forced into marrying you, that makes this—whatever this is—null and void.”
“Good luck getting to any court,” I chuckle.
“You bastard!”
I smile at her passion. “You’re feistier than I remember.”
“Don’t you dare smile at me,” she hisses. “I may have fallen for your charm once, but it won’t happen again.”
“That sounds like a challenge, kiska.”
“You’re used to getting your own way, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “Men like me usually end up with what they want.”
“Figures.” She huffs and looks out her tinted windows. “If I scream, will anyone even hear me?”
“Afraid not.”
She sighs and relaxes into her seat. Fine by me. I pour myself a whiskey from the drink drawer and do the same, idly sipping as we meander through London towards my estate.
“Is it true?” Cami asks suddenly after a long silence.