“Tell me. Is it so fucking unbearable, being in the same room with me?”
“What?” Yasmin didn’t get him at all. After seeing him in action at the club, she assumed he had a temper and lacked patience, yet here they were, having a conversation.
“Are you happy with your current life? Do you want me to let you go?”
His questions caught her off-guard. She giggled, unable to help himself. Carver narrowed his eyes but didn’t say anything until she recovered.
“God, this must be some kind of sick game to you. You tell me I belong to you one moment and the next, you’re asking me if I want freedom?”
She shook her head. Did he think she was foolish enough to piss off the most powerful man in the city? Where would she even go? Yasmin had no one she could rely on but herself. Running now would backfire on her. Carver probably had top-notch security. Wherever she’d go, he’d find her. The kingpin had deep pockets and connections with the local police and politicians.
If she had to be honest, it felt a little lonely, isolating even, living one day after another, trying to make enough to pay the bills, only for her father to screw up one way or another.
Besides, instinct told her Carver wasn’t like Anatoli or the others. Oh, Yasmin would never forget he wasn’t a good man, but he hadn’t taken advantage of her in her sleep, didn’t take what he clearly wanted—and those hungry blue eyes told her he wanted her. She suppressed a shudder and looked the kingpin in the eye.
“I’m a man of my word, and I can adapt to setbacks. Doesn’t matter if I set you free now, you’d eventually end up crawling back to me. This story has one ending, princess, with me owning all of you.”
Carver said that with such certainty, it left her stunned for a few seconds. Her heart starting racing again. She gripped the sheets, well-aware nothing could stop him from ripping the sheets from her body, exposing her to his gaze. Yasmin knew those big hands would feel good against her soft skin, and that mouth—men like Carver didn’t kiss. He’d plunder and take.
The dark and wild side of her wanted him to discard the mask of a gentleman and expose the beast underneath.
Her breathing turned shallow. Being around him made her entire body hot, aroused, making it hard to think or make logical decisions. Not good signs but she’d willingly signed a contract with the devil by giving herself to him.
“I’m not my father. I don’t go back on my word either,” she managed to whisper.
Pride made her say those words, but Carver also intrigued her on so many levels. She’d agreed to stay to save her father initially, but it felt different now. She also wanted to know which direction this was heading.
Would she regret refusing his offer? What did he have in store for her? Her mind worked furiously. Yesterday, he’d gone out of his way to interrupt Anatoli, which meant after all these years, he hadn’t forgotten her. It was silly, but the thought warmed her heart. In the words of one of her exes, Yasmin was forgettable, didn’t stand out. What did Carver see in her?
“Good, but you haven’t answered my other question,” he told her.
What did he ask? Whether she was happy? Another confusing question. “Who’s really happy these days?”
He flashed her that enigmatic smile that might say nothing or everything. Yasmin was way out of her league with this man. Hell, maybe Carver hadn’t lied about releasing her, but she had a feeling he’d never make that offer again.
“When was the last time you smiled, you found true joy in something?” he asked.
“What are you, my therapist?” she demanded, sounding defensive. Yasmin sucked in a breath, aware it wasn’t wise, provoking him, but he didn’t look pissed.
“It’s a simple question, angel.”
“I—I can’t remember. For as long as I remember, I’ve struggled making ends meet, with my love life and my dad.” Why did she tell him that? They were complete strangers, but it was easy talking to him. He kept his full attention on her the entire time. He listened and didn’t make a move as his phone began to ring.
“Then, I plan to change that. If you have no intentions of leaving, the shower’s that way. You’ll have to make do with borrowing some of my clothes. I expect you to join me for breakfast.” Carver stood up. His phone buzzed again.
She stared at him, wondering if he realized how absurd he sounded. Did Carver really think they’d have some kind of civilized breakfast after everything that happened? His words sounded like a command as well, as if he didn’t expect her to refuse.
“Fine,” she answered curtly.
Yasmin stared at his broad back as he turned away from her and began walking towards the door, phone to his ear.
Once he shut the door behind her, Yasmin collapsed back against the pillows.
What had she just done?