caught in her throat, and she felt as though she was choking as his pale blue eyes roamed over her body and an evil grin played on his lips. Wanting to get as far away from him as possible, Gillian scooted back in the seat. She looked around for an object that she could use as a weapon, but none was to be found. Terror filled her when Galen adjusted the bulge she saw growing in his pants. If this son of a bitch was going to try to rape her, she wasn't going down without a fight. Finally catching her breath, she willed her frightened body to calm. She needed her wits about her if she was going to escape.
"You are even more beautiful than I remember, Gill." Galen smiled as he finally spoke, his eyes feasting on her voluptuous frame. The mid-thigh, grey sweater dress fit her body like a glove, and the black knee-high boots she wore hid the calves she used to wrap around his back during sex. Now, she was wrapping those same curvy, soft legs around the man he hated most. Pure unadulterated rage filled every ounce of his being. When his pale, blue eyes found hers, he said in a very dark, deadly tone, "You have been a very difficult woman to find. At one point, I began thinking that you were dead, but instead, I find you living and working in London, not to mention fucking John Kenric."
"Galen—" Gillian began softly but was cut off by the Greek man quickly closing the distance between them and slapping her soundly across the face. She was unprepared to find his hands wrapped around her throat and him putting pressure there. The pressure made it difficult for her to breathe but did not cut off her air supply completely.
"Don't you say a fucking word! I should kill you right here and now for all the shit you have put me through," Galen growled, inches from her flawless face. "Do you know how worried I have been about you? I loved you, dammit! You were supposed to be my wife! How am I supposed to forgive you for the things you have done to me? How can I forgive you for fucking John Kenric?"
Tears fell down Gillian's face as she closed her eyes and saw John. Why was fate so cruel? She had finally found a man who made her feel safe and loved. Even though she had only known the British billionaire for two weeks, Gillian had fantasized about a life with John since the moment she had met him. He had been so strong, demanding, and had wanted her from the start. Gillian felt so alive when she was with John, and now she was afraid that she would never see him again. Gasping for air and feeling her body begin to go limp as Galen continued to choke her, Gillian allowed the darkness to take over. John's face was the last thing she saw.
Galen released Gillian's slender neck the moment her body went limp. He then watched her lifeless body fall back on the leather seat. The Greek businessman closed his eyes and held his breath a moment as she lay motionless. Galen had not wanted to kill her, but she had intentionally upset him. His eyes flew open and a great sense of relief washed over him when he heard her gasping for air. Brushing back the fallen, black strands of hair from her porcelain face, he leaned over to place a soft kiss on her lips. Gillian Morgan wasn't dead after all! Galen would make her his wife and knew that she would grow to love him, even if he had to beat her into submission. Sitting back in the seat, he dragged her limp, delicate frame into his arms and cradled her.
"Change of plans, Francesco. I need to stop off at my home before heading to the airport," Galen said in his native language as he lowered the glass that separated him from the driver.
"But your father, sir—"
"Can wait," Galen responded tightly before the driver nodded in agreement. Then, he raised the glass.
An hour and a half later, Galen's guard dropped Gillian's limp body down roughly on the white sofa. The jolt had the beautiful American opening her eyes and letting out a loud moan of pain. Realizing she was still with Galen, she quickly looked around the room to see if there was a way for her to escape.