Stolen Life by Charmaine Pauls

Author:Charmaine Pauls [Pauls, Charmaine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9782491833107
Publisher: Charmaine Pauls

Chapter 12

Ian

When that delectable woman enters my line of vision, I relax considerably. Banga is getting a bonus for tipping me off. Her friends notice me first. They approach with caution, probably from the look on my face. Cas finally spots me. Her reaction is the same as that of her friends. Damn right. Coming out alone at night is no laughing matter.

Instead of coming over, she goes to a table and downs the dreg of a beer. Her gaze is defiant as she holds mine. Of course it is.

As she’s making it clear that she’s not going to come to me, I push off the pillar and walk to her. Her pretty blue eyes are spitting fire, throwing me back to the first night I saw her at the casino. In hindsight, that fire and sassy attitude attracted me more than her angelic face and centerfold body.

She lifts her chin when I stop in front of her. Her tone is full of bitterness and sarcasm. “Did you have fun?”

“Are you?”

She cocks a hip. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Fun’s over, baby doll.”

I turn in silent instruction for her to follow, but her, “No,” finds my back.

Pausing, I look at her. “What did you say to me?”

“You can’t go out and do whatever the hell you please and leave me grounded here like some fucking teenager.”

“Grounded?” I have a good mind to ground her now.

“Or do you get to have five wives?” she asks with a taunting smile.

Whoa. Where is this coming from? What’s with the anger? If anyone should be angry, it’s me. It’s been a long night, and I’ve left our meeting early to haul her ass home.

My patience snaps. She shrieks when I fold my arms around the back of her knees and throw her over my shoulder. Wolf whistles and clapping follow us from the bar and across the street.

She slams her fists on my back, hammering my kidneys and injured shoulder. “Put me down.”

“Stop making a scene.”

My words seem to fuel her anger. She redoubles her efforts, actually getting a punch in on my wound that hurts.

I nod at Banga who’s sitting in the parked Jeep, a command to drive back, and lower my obstinate package into the passenger seat of the Hummer. She fights me as I strap her safety belt. I’m seriously starting to consider tying her up.

“Want me to tie your hands and feet?” I ask, voicing my threat. “As your punishment, I may just decide to leave you tied up the whole damn night.”

She stills, but she doesn’t hold back the insults. “You’re a brute.”

Damn right. She has no idea.

I get behind the wheel and drive us home in brooding silence. Banga continues to the main building to park the Jeep. I stop at my bungalow.

Before I can grab my rifle, she’s already out of the vehicle and stomping to the room. She doesn’t wait for me to go inside and make sure it’s safe. I catch up with her by the bed, pushing her aside to do a quick evaluation.

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