“Open the door, Adara,” he said, with more authority in his tone than she’d ever heard him use before. It was spooky. “Now!”
That final word of his, and all the power behind it, almost made her door vibrate.
Unlocking the deadbolt, she swung the door open, but not in defeat. Her eyes were spitting fire at the man who’d dared speak to her that way.
“Who in the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the man who is going to marry you,” he said, his lips turning up in a smile she wasn’t sure she wanted to interpret.
“Interesting overreaction. You clearly don’t deal very well with women who have the guts to break up with you.”
“You were the one who overreacted,” he told her with a cheeky grin. “How could you break up with me if we were never in what you Americans call a relationship?”
“Ugh. This is pointless, Mr. Dante.” She made her best effort to slam the door shut.
He didn’t have to try hard at all to stop her. He stepped inside her house for the first time ever, and his six-foot-three frame and wide shoulders were making the wretched little place seem even smaller than it was.
“I’m not leaving without you, Adara.” As he spoke, he pursued her. She went backward as quickly as she could, but there wasn’t much room to move.
“How did you know where I live?” She’d never given him her address. Purposely.
“I know everything about you.”
“That’s creepy, Chris.” Was he a stalker? She was on the verge of freaking out.
“I always know about any woman I spend time with. It’s a necessity in my life.”
They were now in her living room, and he had her cornered.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chris, but I don’t like what’s happening.”
His hands came up on either side of her, caging her against the wall. “You will learn to like it.”
“Who in the hell are you?”
This certainly wasn’t the same man she’d met three months before. He didn’t resemble the laid-back playboy she’d lost her virginity and possibly her heart to.
“I’m Prince Christopher of Rubare Collina,” he said imperiously. “And I’ve decided that you will be my bride.”
Adara’s head began spinning as she tried to wrap her mind around what he was saying. But she had to push the fuzziness away. This was far from warm fuzziness.
“I don’t know why you’re lying to me like this, but it doesn’t matter, because there’s certainly no way I’m marrying you. A prince? Give me a break. I won’t even be your girlfriend, let alone your wife.”
“You don’t have a choice,” he told her.
“Are you kidding me? I do have a choice. I’d already guessed that you were from another country — the accent was a big giveaway,” she said with no little sarcasm. “And it’s probably a country where women are subservient to men. I guarantee you that I’m not. Take your hands off me and let me go.”
She glared daggers at him, but the guy simply smiled back at her. She wasn’t saying another word. She’d said what she needed to say, and now he needed to get a clue.
“Do you know what the custom is in my land?” he asked, leaning in closer.
Damn it if her heart didn’t pick up just a little bit at his nearness. That was her body’s traitorous reaction. She would learn to quell that.
“I’m not interested in knowing what your customs are,” she finally replied.
“I’ll tell you anyway,” he said with a smile before taking a step back, allowing her to breathe, until his next words took her breath right back away.
“The prince is to find his bride before his thirtieth birthday — and the bride is allowed no choice in the matter.”
“What do you mean by that, Chris?” The look in his eyes was beginning to scare her.
“It’s our custom . . . let’s say . . . to use any means possible, fair or unfair, to take our bride back to our homeland.”
She gazed at him for several long moments.
“Spit it out, Chris.”
“I’ve decided to marry you, so you will be coming with me,” he said, taking a step back toward her.
There was just no reasoning with a crazy person like this one, Adara decided. She somehow evaded his grasp and made a beeline for her front door. And she actually managed to get outside. Then his hands encircled her waist.
“I know we’re meant to be together,” he said, flipping her around and giving her a victorious smile.
“You can’t do this. Please don’t do this,” she begged him.
He stopped what he was doing and let her go immediately. “I’m not trying to frighten you,” he told her.
“Well, you are. How in the hell can you say that to me? You’re telling me that I have no choice other than to be with you, and then you say you aren’t trying to scare me,” she panted. She hated the weakness she was feeling.
“You’re right,” he said, immediately moving back, if only a little.
“Thank you.” She finally took another breath, and then took a strategic step backward.
“Will you come with me, please? Just let me show you something,” he said, sounding like his old self.
“And if I say no?”
“Then I’ll leave,” he told her.
“Then the answer is no.”
Chris hung his head for several moments before he looked back up at her. “You need more time. I understand.”
With that, he turned and walked away. Adara moved back to her doorway and looked out, watching him climb into whatever expensive car he was using and drive away.
Closing and double-locking her door, she decided that the first thing she needed to do was some extensive research. There was no way he was an actual prince, was there?
No. It just wasn’t possible. He was just a garden-variety rich and sexy psychopath.
But she was filled with nagging doubts. If only she’d had Internet service here at home, she’d be surfing it right at that very moment. It looked like it would have to wait until later, though. She had a feeling the circles beneath her eyes weren’t going away any time soon, because she wasn’t going to get a good night’s rest tonight.
Chapter Three
Flying wasn’t so bad. “You can do this!”
Maybe if she said it loud enough, she’d be fine. Yep, that was it. She’d just keep repeating it in her head over and over again. And repeating it to the world.
Sitting in the terminal at the Syracuse Hancock International Airport, Adara was wondering at her impulsive decision to get out of town.
It had been a week since her quarrel with Chris, and she missed him, missed him more than she would ever admit to him or herself. “It wasn’t a relationship. We were just friends with benefits. Just benefits, really. We weren’t even friends.”
“Excuse me?”
She turned to see a man looking at her with a strange expression on his face. Great. Now people were going to think she was crazy.
“I’m just talking to myself. Carry on,” she told him as she lifted her Long Island iced tea and took a big swallow. “The drinking helps; don’t judge,” she snapped when the man continued to stare at her.
He finally retreated, and she finished her third glass. Good, strong stuff. “I have a question,” she said a bit too loudly to the bartender.
“How can I help you?” The man really was quite nice. And she must appear like an utter loon right now.
“Is there any actual tea in a Long Island iced tea?”
The man looked at her for a moment before he broke out in a smile. Wow. Nice smile. Nothing like Chris’s smile, but still a nice smile.
“No, ma’am,” he said.
“Then why is it called that?”
“I don’t really know.”
“Aren’t bartenders supposed to know it all, be like a whiz with drinks, a therapist, and all that jazz?”
He laughed. “I think you’ve had enough of those ‘teas?
? for now,” he told her.
“But you just said there’s no actual tea in the drink,” she pointed out.
He set a cup of coffee before her.
“I’m not drunk,” she said, before wobbling on her bar stool.
