Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“What the hell is this?” His words come out on a low growl.
“Give it back,” I whisper-yell, scrambling out of my chair, face burning as I look around. Thankfully, no one is around. “What are you doing here?” He doesn’t give me an answer. Instead, his hand shoots out and long fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling me out of my seat, and he basically frog-marches me away from my area.
“We’re talking. Right fucking now.”
“I’m at work...” He doesn’t listen. I attempt to dig my heels into the carpet, but it doesn’t make him pause. He pulls me with an effortlessness I should be used to by now. I watch as his eyes scan the corridor. He spots an unmarked door, shoves it open, and hauls me inside before slamming the door shut behind us.
“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” he rasps, his hands caging me against the wall on either side of my head, trapping me completely with the press of his hips between my thighs. The space we’re in is tiny; it’s a coat closet we use when we’re hosting a meeting in the boardroom. The room is dark, the air thick with his heat, his scent, and his energy.
“Me? You can’t just keep hauling me around any time you want to, and at my office no less. You’re creating a scene,” I hiss back.
“I’ll do what I want when I want, and that includes making a scene.” Dante leans down until his face is inches from mine. He shoves my phone between us, and the screen glows with my search results. “What is this, Alexandria? Is this Plan B?”
“You know exactly what it is.” My voice drops, stomach doing the same, but I force my chin up, pull my shoulders back, and meet his intense stare head on. “We didn’t use protection, Dante! I told you, I’m not on birth control, and I’m not ready to have a baby with a man I married forty-eight hours ago!”
“No fucking way,” he groans. The words torn from his chest are deep and heavy. “There is no fucking way you’re taking that.”
“It’s my body!” I argue, my hands coming up to press against his broad chest, feeling emboldened. “And it’s my choice!”
“You’re my wife, you’re carrying my name, you’re wearing my ring, and if you’re carrying my child, you’re keeping it. I am not letting you run because you’re too terrified about what we’re building.”
“We’re not building anything within two days.” I’m exasperated. Dante doesn’t see the need for personal space as he leans in closer.
“It isn’t just a weekend. It’s the beginning of the rest of our lives.” His lips brush the shell of my ear, hot and demanding against my skin. He reaches for my left hand, placing his on top, and that’s when he notices my finger is bare of his rings. Dante looks from my hand to my face. “Where the hell are my rings, Alexandria?”
“I put them away. There’s no way I can wear an eight-carat diamond to work. People will ask questions.”
“Let them ask. Put the rings back on your finger, or so help me God, I will walk out into that hallway, find Vik, and announce to the entire fucking building that you belong to me.” He is being a pompous asshole.
“You wouldn’t,” I say sharply.
“Try me, wife.” A smirk pulls at the corner of his lips, though his eyes remain deadly serious. “Now, where are they?”
“In my pocket.” What is it about this man that makes me give in so easily? Dante breaks eye contact, his hands traveling the length of my body until he finds what he’s looking for; it doesn’t take long. The palm of his hand slips inside my pants, pulls out my rings, and guides them back on my finger in a matter of seconds.
“Precisely where they belong.” He leans down, capturing my mouth in a hard, dizzying kiss that steals the air from my lungs and leaves me breathless.
CHAPTER SIX
dante
My hand is at the small of Alexandria’s back as I guide her out of the closet and back to her desk. She walks stiffly, her shoulders ramrod straight, chin tilted high in a stubborn, defiant way that makes my cock hard.
“Keep them on, wife,” I murmur when we reach her desk, letting my hand linger on her waist for a beat longer than necessary, squeezing gently before releasing her.
“Fine.” She shoots me a glare sharp enough to make a lesser man think twice. A good thing I’m not that.
“Good girl,” I rumble. A smirk tugs at my lips as her cheeks flush a pretty pink. Without waiting for a retort that will no doubt rile me up, I head straight to Vik’s office. His door is open, and I have no problem closing it behind me. Vik Orlov is leaning back in his leather chair, a hand tossed behind his head while the other holds his phone to his ear. His rare, genuine smile compared to his usual sternness is a change of fucking pace.