The Dreaming Of... Collection. Оливия Гейтс. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Оливия Гейтс
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon e-Book Collections
Жанр произведения: Контркультура
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474083089
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took her by the arm and marched her towards the villa.

      ‘What are you doing? Let go of me!’

      He didn’t respond. Back indoors, she managed to rip herself from the guard’s grasp as the door to the study flew open.

      Jasmine stared at a fuming Reyes, refusing to cower under his oppressive stare.

      ‘I thought we had an agreement.’ His grey eyes flashed with barely suppressed anger.

      She massaged her stinging elbow. ‘The agreement still holds. I haven’t run away, have I?’

      ‘You left the house without permission.’

      ‘To go to the garden! I’m going insane cooped up in your gilded prison. How did you know I’d left the house anyway?’

      ‘Every time a door is opened in the house, an alarm goes off in the security suite. My men alerted me.’ His gaze dropped to where she was nursing her elbow. His face grew darker. ‘Why are you rubbing your elbow? Are you hurt?’

      ‘Do you care?’

      He glared at her for several seconds. Then, turning to his bodyguard, he murmured a few words.

      Jasmine’s heart twisted, then thundered in outrage when she saw what was being handed to Reyes.

      ‘No! If you dare come near me with that thing, I’ll—’

      ‘You’ll what? Scream? Go ahead. Give it your best shot.’ He stepped closer, the handcuffs gleaming in his hands.

      Memories, the worst kind of memories, crowded her mind, pushing fear up through her belly into her chest. Her breath shortened. ‘No, Reyes— No, don’t. Please!’

      Hyperventilating, she tried to step back. Her feet wouldn’t move. The blood drained out of her head as she fought to breathe. Her head grew woozy with fog. She started to sway.

      ‘If you insist on disobeying me, this is your only—Jasmine?’

      His voice wove in and out. She blinked, fighting the light-headedness. Damn, either she really was unwell, or she was turning into a pathetic shadow of herself around this man.

      Either way, it had to stop!

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      ‘JASMINE!’

      Reyes caught her by the arms and watched her pull herself together. She’d gone deathly pale at the sight of the handcuffs and for a moment he’d thought she would pass out.

      She continued to stare at the restraints as if they were poisonous serpents ready to strike at her.

      She willingly admitted to being a criminal yet the sight of handcuffs terrified her. Surely she was used to them by now?

      Puzzled, he slipped the cuffs into his back pocket and dismissed his bodyguard. Her trembling had increased and even though she tried to hide it, he caught the haunted look in her eyes.

      Dios, something had happened to her.

      ‘Jasmine.’

      She didn’t move. Didn’t react. It was almost as if she hadn’t heard him. Stepping closer, he gripped her tighter. Felt her tremble. An unwelcome emotion shifted through his chest.

      ‘You will respond when I address you.’

      Her reaction was immediate. She wrenched herself from him, almost violently. Eyes wide, she glared at him, but he was sure her consciousness was elsewhere.

      ‘No! I won’t let you use those things on me!’

      ‘It’s fine. It’s okay,’ he murmured, brushing her soft, silky cheek. He realised what he was doing and removed his hand, puzzled and annoyed with himself for offering comfort where he should be doling out punishment.

      She stared at the hand suspended between them. Then she searched for the handcuffs before her wide, frightened eyes darted back to his face.

      ‘Do you want to tell me what just happened?’ he asked.

      She sucked in a shaky breath and gathered herself with that strength of will he couldn’t help but admire. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

      A cold hand clamped around Reyes’s neck. How many times had he heard his mother utter those same words? When he’d demanded to know what she was doing in the papers being photographed in the arms of a man other than his father...when Reyes had confronted her about the alcohol on her breath or the hazy look in her eyes, she’d always uttered those words.

       I have no idea what you’re talking about, Reyes. Don’t be so fanciful, Reyes.

      ‘So you deny that the sight of the restraints disturbed you? Then you won’t mind if I use—’

      She tried to snatch her hands away. ‘No. Don’t use it. I promise...I won’t leave the villa.’

      He was dying to know what had happened to her. But not so badly that he wanted to be lied to. He might have tried to fool himself into believing that it didn’t matter, but Jasmine’s untruths somehow managed to get under his skin. Sting that little harder.

      ‘Your promises are worthless to me—surely you know that by now? So I’m afraid you’ll have to do more than that.’

      She swallowed. ‘What do you mean?’

      Reyes stepped back and indicated the door to his study. ‘You’ll stay where I can keep an eye on you.’

      ‘So I guess a request for a trip into town is out of the question?’

      Reyes let his cool stare speak for him.

      She rolled her eyes before her gaze dropped to his pockets, where the cuffs were hidden out of sight. ‘Fine. I’ll go and find a book to read.’

      For some reason, Reyes couldn’t suppress a smile as she firmed her lips and sent him a glance of pure loathing.

      He stopped her as she stepped past him. ‘Wait.’

      Surprised, she looked up. Then frowned. ‘What now?’

      Reyes grasped her elbow and examined where she’d rubbed it before. Faint marks marred her skin. A touch of fury flared within him. He would be having words with his bodyguard later. ‘You didn’t tell me whether you were hurt or not?’ he repeated his earlier question. Why was that so important to him? He stemmed the mocking voice and waited for her answer.

      ‘It’s nothing I haven’t endured before.’ As if realising her slip, she bit her lip.

      The memory of doing the same to those lips, and much more, slammed into him. His groin stirred to life. Smashing it down, he concentrated on her words.

      ‘You’ve been manhandled before?’ The very thought made something tug hard in his chest.

      ‘Not without fighting back, I can assure you.’ The blaze of defiance and determination flared higher in her eyes.

      He wasn’t reassured. Intrigued, he stared at her for a long time before he could form the words. ‘You will not be treated like that under my roof. Be assured of that.’

      ‘So what do you call using those handcuffs tucked away in your pocket? An early Christmas present?’

      His mouth twisted. ‘Perhaps I should rephrase that. No one but I will be allowed to touch you while you’re under my roof.’

      ‘Well, that makes me feel heaps better.’ Despite the bravado in her voice, a dart of apprehension crossed her eyes.

      About to reassure her again that she would come to no harm, he stopped himself. Reminded himself of what this woman had done. To him. To his country.

      Right at this moment, he had members of Santo Sierra’s