Page 116 of Unforgiving Queen

All in due time though.

I let her eat in peace, pleasantly surprised with her appetite as I got back to my emails. Once she was finished, I put my phone down and met her eyes.

“We should teach you self-defense,” I said.

“What? Eager to die?” she snickered. I missed the carefree, innocent girl she once was and hated that I’d destroyed that. But I had to admit this side of her had my dick twitching. I loved her backbone. “Besides, I already know how to fight. Darius taught me.”

I gritted my teeth.

Darius.

A name I’d gladly never hear again. My jaw tightened, fighting the urge to lash out and go find the blond asshole, cut his pretty hair, and smash his face. It took me a few moments to compose myself and stop the creative murderous ideas from playing in my mind.

“Want to go sightseeing today?”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Sightseeing what?”

“The beaches, caves, cities. Whatever your heart desires.” I kept my answer vague. Her hand flitted to her neck and she fidgeted with her pendants. I still couldn’t believe she kept mine. It gave me hope that we could move on and start fresh.

“I want my phone. I want to text my sister.”

“She’s fine.”

The fire in her eyes flared. “You don’t know that,” she hissed. “I’m not doing anything with you until I hear from her.”

“You can use my phone,” I offered.

She hesitated, weighing her options. She had none. I wouldn’t risk losing her, not until she came to terms with being mine forever. Her phone and clutch were secured in my safe.

“Fine.” She extended her hand, tapping her foot impatiently. Pissed-off Reina could be quite entertaining. The moment her fingers touched the phone, she let out a frustrated breath. “It’s locked.”

“And?”

“And I need the code to open it,” she snapped.

“It’s your birthday.”

Her eyes were ablaze with a mixture of volatile emotions, but she opted not to say anything. She typed in the digits and then tried FaceTiming her sister. Riiing. Riiing. Riiing.

No answer.

“Damn it,” she muttered, distress evident in her voice. “I’ll text her.”

Her fingers skated over the screen and then the sound of a message being sent hit my ears. She waited, her eyes glued to the screen, willing it to light up.

“No answer?”

“No,” she gritted, handing back my phone reluctantly. “You can’t keep me prisoner forever.”

“You want to bet, cinnamon girl?” I drawled with a lazy smile.

She shot to her feet. “Stop. Calling. Me. That.”

I raised an eyebrow, rising to my full height. “And who’s going to stop me?”

Her curls flew around her shoulders, and before I could think better of it, my hand darted out and wrapped them around my finger. Her mouth parted, staring at me. I released them, grabbing the back of her neck and tugging her to me.

Her fingers curled around my biceps as she steadied herself. Her breaths came in fast, and her grip on my sides tightened.