Mastered (The Enforcers 1)

Once again, amusement flickered in Maddox’s eyes, but there was also a gleam that looked suspiciously like . . . respect at her defiance and bluntness. She was not a rude person, but nothing in her responses could possibly be construed as anything but rude. Not to mention dismissive, and although her association with Drake and his watchdogs had been brief, she knew they were not men who were ever dismissed and certainly not by a meek, timid woman.

When he didn’t immediately respond, frustration made Evangeline lash out again.

“What could he possibly want with me? We exist in completely different stratospheres. I’m nothing. I’m average at best. Nothing to look at. The stereotypical plain Jane who wouldn’t even draw notice in a small group, much less a crowd!”

At that, Maddox’s expression went from amused to pissed and mean in the blink of an eye, his gaze glittering dangerously.

“Bullshit,” he snapped, not expounding further.

Instead he gently cupped her elbow, anchored his arm around her waist and began walking her toward a parked car just a few feet away. The same car he’d taken her home in the night before. He ignored her sputtered protests and her attempts to break his hold on her and merely tightened his grip, slowing his pace to ensure she didn’t trip or stumble in the ridiculous heels she wore. How could such a badass, scary guy use such extreme care to ensure her safety when he was kidnapping her? It just didn’t make sense and her brain was already fried from the night at Impulse and then an extra-long shift she’d spent entirely on her feet.

When they got to the car and Maddox opened the back door, panic kicked in and she immediately backed away only to collide with a very large, muscled man who didn’t so much as budge as she squirmed and began to fight.

Instead he very gently eased her back and began to solicitously seat her.

“You can’t just kidnap me!” she exclaimed, true fright nearly making the words she intended to scream come out more as a croak because her throat was rapidly closing in.

“And yet you didn’t protest overly much when I very gentlemanly handed you into the car,” Maddox said dryly.

“Define ‘overly much,’” she snapped. “Because from my viewpoint I certainly did not go meekly like a lamb to its slaughter. I’m sure it appeared that way to you because you could snap me in half with your fingers, but it doesn’t mean I’m not here under protest.”

But then she looked down to see that she was indeed seated quite comfortably on the soft, expensive leather, wondering how on earth he’d managed to get her into the car with such minimal effort. Despite her bravado about fighting and not being led meekly to slaughter. Self-disgust filled her because yes, to a man like him, it most assuredly would look like she did his bidding without a single objection.

“I was afraid you’d shoot me,” she muttered under her breath.

But Maddox heard and his lips twitched suspiciously, though she suspected he rarely if ever smiled. That too seemed to be a requirement to work in Drake’s establishments. Gorgeous, badass, well built, intimidating, scary and no smiling. Ever.

He shut the door and started the walk around the back of the vehicle to get in on the other side. Evangeline immediately yanked at the handle, fully intending to be out and running as fast as her shoes allowed before he got in.

But nothing happened. She tore at the handle, cursing under her breath, words that would have her mama washing her mouth out with soap because no true lady ever even thought the words Evangeline was spitting out in rapid succession.

Then a warm, comforting hand closed over the one not frantically grasping at the door handle. He squeezed, halting her futile attempts to open what amounted to a child lock that prevented opening the door from the inside. So now she was nothing more than a recalcitrant child, a nuisance Maddox had been sent on an errand to retrieve because she’d stepped out of line. A line she had no knowledge or understanding of. Things just didn’t happen like this in her sheltered existence. She felt as though the night she’d been bullied into going to Impulse she had crossed into an alternative reality that had an entirely different set of rules and she had no idea what the hell they were!

“Evangeline.”

Though not forceful or intimidating sounding, there was still a command for her attention. For her to look at him. One she felt compelled to obey despite the fact that she had no wish to face this man. She chastened herself for even contemplating obeying the order and yet, to her dismay, she found herself complying. How screwed up was that? If she couldn’t even stand up to one of Drake’s underlings, then how on earth was she going to have a chance against Drake himself? She was beyond fright and panic at this point. She was fast entering meltdown stage and wondered if somehow she could stealthily retrieve her cell phone from her bag and call 911. But she had no idea where Maddox was taking her and no actual crime had been committed. Yet.