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I stand up, hauling her off the sofa and she falls against me. “If I’m sharing with you, maybe I’d be okay with it?”
She looks pleased with herself, and she’s not getting it. She has no fucking clue what she’s saying and what the implications are.
Fuck, she’s a pain in my ass.
“You don’t want it.”
“I’ve never had it, Daddy.”
This time I don’t answer. I take her hand and head upstairs to the top deck, but something is wrong. The speedboat is nowhere in sight, and there are only a few people up here.
I look around.
The island.
Shit.
We’re on the move.
Someone changed the time again. There’s no other fucking boat.
No escape.
I grab one of the staff members who’s cleaning, my hand still wrapped around Dakota.
“What’s going on? Where’s the other boat?” I already suspect the answer, but I need to confirm.
“They pushed things forward. We’ll be docking on the island soon.”
He moves away from us and Dakota tugs my hand.
“What is it?” she asks.
I rake my other hand through my hair. “Danger. And not the fucking good kind.”
EIGHT
dakota
Jaxson doesn’t say much from the moment he tells me we’re in trouble to the time that we are getting off the yacht at the boat slip. But he doesn’t leave my side.
It’s all a show.
He’s staked a claim and he told me to act like I’m his.
That’s it.
There’s nothing different about him, at least not on the outside, but I can feel it. Tension of the wrong kind is thick in the air. He’s not happy, and I know it’s my fault.
By the time we get to the dock, I’m stone-cold sober, aching, and unfulfilled. He keeps lancing me with looks that both burn me with desire and disdain, and I have no idea how to handle the conflicting emotions.
But I want to please him.
It’s a compulsion in me, one I didn’t realize existed before today.
Someone takes my bag, and then Amelia walks over, all bright smiles. “Dakota, I’m so glad you didn’t change your mind.”
Her gaze leaps up to Jaxson and she coils a strand of hair around her finger as he merely stares her down, ignoring someone who’s trying to talk to him. I swallow the growl rising in the back of my throat as I regard the stunning, and I mean stunning, older woman pawing at him. Her dress is basically painted on and her face screams available.
