The Dare Collection April 2019. Nicola Marsh

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      Last night when he’d shown me to my room and told me there was no point escaping because the whole house was surrounded by his men, I’d been expecting him to continue what he’d started with that kiss.

      But he hadn’t. He’d pointed out the en suite bathroom then left.

      It was a bit of an unhappy surprise after I’d decided that he was the perfect way to get my revenge on Dad.

      I’d decided not to argue about it, though. I was tired anyway and consoled myself with the thought that maybe I could ask him about it the next day.

      So I’d lain down on the bed fully dressed, shut my eyes and had gone out like a light.

      It had been the best sleep I’d had in years, and that dream I’d had about him had really helped.

      My very naughty dream.

      I’d had sex dreams in the past, usually involving faceless men who would touch me and then walk away, leaving me hot and aching and restless with feelings I didn’t understand.

      But not last night. Last night I’d dreamed I’d stayed in that van and this time the man wasn’t faceless. He had rough, blunt, handsome features and eyes the colour of a winter sky. And he’d watched me as I pulled up my dress, telling me what to do in his deep, harsh voice...

      God, so hot. And now there was an ache between my legs, a throbbing heat. I wanted him to touch me, to make good on all the threats he’d delivered the night before, but, given the way he was standing there, the expression on his face utterly impassive, it was obvious he had no intention of doing so.

      Dammit.

      Did that mean that my one and only chance for getting back at Dad, of having any kind of choice about being with a man I wanted, was gone?

      To make matters worse, Ajax looked unbelievably good in the white T-shirt and jeans he had on, the short sleeves exposing heavily muscled arms and inked olive skin. I hadn’t realised he was tattooed and I could barely drag my gaze from all those black lines snaking around his biceps and forearms. That and his beautiful mouth. And the way the cotton pulled over his broad chest...

      I could barely drag my gaze from him, full stop.

      He was just taunting me now, wasn’t he?

      ‘No.’ He crossed his arms across that incredible chest. ‘I didn’t mean it.’

      It was strange to feel the hurt so personally, but I did.

      ‘So you lied,’ I said, only just stopping myself from crossing my arms too.

      Ajax frowned, the mesmerising blue of his eyes sharpening. ‘I’m not sure I like your tone.’

      I should have stopped arguing, but I wasn’t good at hiding my feelings and the disappointment was biting unexpectedly deep. ‘You told me you wanted me. Was that a lie?’

      ‘You should be more worried about the fact that you’re my prisoner, not whether or not I’m going to fuck you.’

      I lifted my chin. ‘You know, for an ex-criminal mastermind, or whatever you are, you’re not very smart. I don’t care about being kidnapped or about being your prisoner.’

      ‘You should care.’

      ‘Why? I just wanted to get away from Dad and you helped me do that.’

      ‘I did not help you.’

      I sniffed. ‘Whatever, dude. As far as I’m concerned, you got me away from Dad and that’s the only thing that matters to me.’

      A muscle leapt in the side of his impressive jaw. ‘You don’t care that all you’ve done is swap cages?’

      ‘No. Anyway, you told me last night you’d let me go when Dad leaves Sydney.’ At least Ajax’s cage wouldn’t end up crushing me. Probably.

      He stared at me for a minute, not saying anything. As if he couldn’t quite figure me out. Which I liked. Especially considering I got nothing but dismissal from Dad.

      ‘If he doesn’t,’ Ajax said, ‘I’m going to take your virginity. You do understand that, don’t you?’

      Seriously? He thought I didn’t understand? Maybe I should have told him what I’d decided, but if he was grumpy now, he’d definitely be grumpy about the fact that I wanted to use him purely as a way to get back at Dad.

      I gave him an exasperated look. ‘And do you understand that I’m okay with you taking my virginity? I mean, why do you think I didn’t mind any of what you said to me last night in the van?’

      ‘Little one, you barely know me. And you’ve certainly got no fucking idea what losing your virginity to me even means.’

      ‘Okay, first, like I told you last night, I’m not stupid. I have some idea what losing my virginity means. Second, I’ve read about you. I know about your reputation.’

      He remained motionless beside the bed, his eyes glittering strangely, his big body radiating tension. ‘Whatever you heard about my reputation, just know that it’s twice as bad and twice as fucked up as any of the rumours. I’m not a man you want anywhere near your bed, Imogen.’

      That didn’t sound like a ‘no’. More like a...warning.

      Too bad I didn’t care about warnings.

      ‘Why not?’ I asked. ‘The rumours said you once took down a drug ring all by yourself and that you broke the kneecaps of—’

      ‘Enough.’ His voice was as hard and cold as the look in his eyes. ‘You’ll remain my prisoner until your father leaves Sydney. That’s all.’

      I bit my lip, trying to hold my tongue and hide my disappointment.

      Except I could see my chance for revenge slipping further and further away and a question came out all the same. ‘So all those threats last night were empty ones?’

      His scowl became thunderous. ‘Don’t push me.’

      Another warning. Which I also ignored.

      If I couldn’t change his mind now, then I’d be returned to Dad like an unwanted present, free to be handed to whomever pleased him the most.

      And I would never, ever have this chance, this choice again.

      ‘Why not?’ I asked. ‘What are you going to do to me? I know you won’t hurt me—’

      ‘You don’t know that.’

      ‘Yes, I do. You didn’t last night when you kidnapped me, which means you’re not going to now. I mean, you could have used my life to get Dad to do what you want, but you didn’t. You used my virginity. Which is a whole lot friendlier than, say, actual murder.’

      His expression shifted, the look in his eyes sharpening. ‘Tell me why you were so pleased to be kidnapped by me.’

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