"Mary Janice Davidson - Wyndham Werewolves 01 - Love's Prisoner" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Mary Janice)

"Yes, I know."

"Now!"

"Sorry."

She reared up in the bed, tottering to stay balanced on her knees amid all the fluff of the quilts. His
mouth twitched as she struggled to right herself. "Wyndham, I'm telling you this for the last time: I won't
stay here with you. I won't have anything to do with you. You're a criminaland a jerk, a miserable
combo."

"You're not afraid," he said with a satisfied sigh. "I knew you wouldn't be."

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm too pissed to be afraid. Listen, dickhead: there are going to be some horrific
consequences if you try to keep me here. We're talking broken bones and FBI raids. I'm out of here the
second the opportunity presents itself."

He actually looked alarmed—at the chance of losing his sex toy? Or a deeper reason? Then his
expression cleared. "There will be consequences if you try to escape," he said simply, stepping into her
room and softly closing the adjoining door. He had changed from his suit to khaki shorts and a white
t-shirt, and if possible, looked yummier in casual clothes that showed off his finely muscled legs and
upper body. He was ridiculously tan, ridiculously handsome. "Are you going to try to escape soon?" he
asked, as if inquiring about the temperature in her room.

"You—you—" She sputtered wordlessly at his absurd question. "You're not supposed towant me to get
away."

"You won't get away. We'll catch you. I don't want you to leave—it's dangerous. So, as I warned you
earlier, there will be consequences if you try and escape."

"What consequences?" she asked, but had a sinking feeling she knew.
His gaze was level. "Elevator consequences."

Her mouth went dry, even as her heart sped up. "Seek help, Wyndham. As quickly as possible."

"Do you think I'm pleased with this scenario?"

"Yes! I think you're very pleased," she said bitterly.

The bum actually looked hurt. She couldn't believe his nerve. "It's the only way I can think of to keep
you from trying to leave," he sighed, "since you don't believe me about the danger."

He walked to the bed and stared down at her. A blind woman could have seen the hunger in his gaze. "I
won't lie—part of me wants you to try and escape," he husked. "Don't misunderstand—I'm sorry about
the circumstances that brought you here. And I'm sorry you don't like my home."

"I never said I didn't like your home," she interjected sharply.

"But if you try to escape, just as if you try to hurt me again, I can take you without guilt."