The Captive Heiress: Trapped By Him

w, the air in Carley's bedroo

carpet. She wore a pair of old, thin silk pajamas, the thin straps s

with pent-up rage. "He is a complete control freak. A hypocrite! He forces me to sta

the phone. "He can't have you, so he wants to make sure no

ight, anxious knot behind her sternum. The ro

eeded

d-floor landing. The hallway was dark, illuminated only by the moo

heavy wooden railing, looking do

sive space. "If I get this job at Vance Group, I can sign a lease. I can pack my bags

opened. There was no sound. The

pped into

rr

His head s

chandelier, her knuckles white as she grippe

o her. The air in the foyer i

ck of her neck. The hairs on her arms stood up. It

ooked

vanished fr

into the shadows like a predator. His face was a mask of absolute, terrifying stillness. Bu

eard eve

er fingers went limp, and the pho

here?" Clara's tiny voice

haking so badly she missed it twice. She finally cu

her face. Slowly, deliberatel

thin silk pajamas clung to her curves. The hallway

miliation washed over her. She crossed her arms tightly ov

hed. The muscle in

sliced through the dark. It was low, rough, and

step up

the wood with a hea

o run back to her room, but her legs refused to move.

ther step.

r leaving hers. The physical distance between them

tanding less than two feet away from her. He towered

was trembling. She could smell the cold night air o

thin straps of her pajamas, and the way her arms were wrapped defensive

ce was a harsh, degrading whisper. "Is this the new

ike a physical sl

s eyes. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. Th

d up straight, forcing hersel

droom is none of your business, Mr. Newto

ched, his fingers curling inward as if fighting the urge

his mouth lifted in

houlder brushing violently against hers. The contact sen

the door to his bedroom. He walke

e latch sounded

est heaving, her skin burning from the gho