My Billionaire Captor

This time, she could no longer keep herself upright, and she collapsed on the settee. Oh God. She rubbed her aching temples. Could her father truly be in that much danger?

The sudden pallor of her skin was greatly disturbing, and the beast asked gruffly, “Are you okay?”

Arabella laughed a little, but the sound was weary. “I’m like Rapunzel locked in the tower, but my hair isn’t long enough to help me escape, and my father is in a privately-funded witness protection program and he doesn’t even know someone wants to kill him. But other than that?” She flashed a thumb’s up sign to the shadows. “I’m totally okay.”

“You’re in shock.”

“You think?” she asked sarcastically.

“I’ll send for someone to—-”

She waved the offer away and shook her head. “Please don’t. I hate when I’m being fussed over.”

“But you seem to badly need fussing over right now,” the beast murmured politely.

“I’ll get over it. I’m already getting over it. I’m just wrapping my head around things one at a time—-” A thought occurred to her, and she grimaced.

“What is it?” the beast asked right away.

“I guess…this doesn’t make you that big of an asshole.”

The beast was surprised. “Your words, ma belle.”

“What?” She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me it’s your first time to hear a woman swear.”

Yes, the beast thought.

She stiffened. “No way.”

“I have not said anything.”

“But I could feel what you were thinking.”

“Is that so?” the beast drawled in amusement.

Arabella turned red. “Laugh at me all you want, but is it really that unbelievable that I could guess what you’re thinking? I mean, come on!” She made a wild gesture to the shadows. “I’m talking to you even when I can’t see you, and I know it’s not through some kind of speakers.”

Ah. The beast’s lips curved in a smile. “Touché.”

The sudden acquiescence made her blink. She was not used to winning so easily. Even Maurice, dear old man that he was, could be stubbornly proud when it came to admitting certain mistakes of his.

The beast chuckled. “You appear surprised.”

“I am,” she admitted. “I’m used to men being more, umm, reluctant to admit when they’re wrong.”

“Then you must have known the wrong men your entire life.”

She pursed her lips and moved it from left to right.

“You are doing it again,” the beast observed. “What is it for?”

“None of your beeswax.” But inside she was panicking. Friends. This was supposed to be her, befriending her captor, so that she could eventually convince him to let her go. That was all it was supposed to be, all it should be.

And yet because he was so damn charming—-

“It is that bad then?” he asked gently.

Arabella blinked, feeling like she had been thrown into the deep end. “What’s that bad?”

“The men in your life,” the beast drawled. “They are that bad it has made me your Prince Charming in comparison?”

She choked. “Wow.” She choked some more, but really it was so she could make sure her cheeks didn’t end up turning red and give her away. “You’ve got some ego, to say such things.” And then she made a show of choking again. Why could this man read her so damn easily?

“Not at all,” the beast said mildly.

“If a man thinks he is not conceited, he is very conceited indeed.”

“The man who does not value himself, cannot value anything or anyone.”

There was a monumental pause – and then Arabella started laughing, and the beast slowly allowed itself to smile.

“Did you actually quote Ayn Rand to me?” she couldn’t help asking laughingly.

“And you quoted C.S. Lewis to me,” he countered levelly. “I can’t help but sense a hint of sexism in your observation, mademoiselle. How terribly disappointing.”

She was doubled over now, clutching her sides, with Aurélien Sauvage sounding like the biggest prude in the world. She had to wipe her tears after, thinking that it had been such a long time since she had this much—-

Oh no.

Her smile disappeared.

Maybe – maybe she really was weak, after all. Because right now it felt like for one moment there she had actually forgotten he was her captor, she his captive. For one moment there – she had been having fun…flirting.

“I need to ask another question.”

The beast’s bright eyes narrowed at the sudden abruptness of Arabella’s tone, but even so he said softly, “You must know by now you may ask me anything.”

“No.” Arabella’s tone was stiff. “I can’t actually presume to know anything because at the end of the day, you still own me.”

The beast didn’t allow itself to be baited into contradicting the statement.

Drat. Arabella jumped to her feet and began pacing to release some of her pent-up frustration. She should have known better to expect him to fall for that, but even so –

Whirling around to face the shadows once more, she said curtly, “If you already know my father is innocent, then what about me? Why am I still here?”