Chapter Seven

Emma

Rett gestured toward the door through which I’d just threatened to leave. “You won’t,” he said, “but as you are my future wife, I prefer not to hold you captive against your will.” He shrugged. “I will, but I’d prefer you cooperate.”

The sound of Rett’s deep voice rattled through my mind. His dark stare met mine even as my eyes closed. My pulse raced with the memories of what he’d done, what I’d allowed him to do to me. Lingering in a place between pleasure and pain, my core remained twisted with the understanding that in a matter of a few hours or less, I’d put aside all I’d known—all that I had heard with my own ears and seen with my own eyes—for the words, no, for the demand of a man who somehow scattered both my body and mind.

It was too much. I couldn’t concentrate.