Toxic - Zoe Blake Page 0,22
put her under, the worse the side effects became.
It took the sport and challenge out of the game to see her so confused. I preferred my girl to be more spirited, to fight and challenge me. Otherwise, where was the fun in forcing her to submit to my demands?
Besides, she had returned to me. Of her own free will. It meant she was truly becoming mine. Despite the dark and twisted nature of my games, despite how I treated her, despite everything… my little bird still flew home to her gilded cage. How could I give that up by essentially resetting the game by once again messing with her memory?
No. I would not let some unknown bastard and his threats derail my plans for Elizabeth. What was needed was a clear message that whoever they were, they were playing with fire. Elizabeth wasn’t like the others. She was special to me. It was time the world got that message.
Although I had mentioned it in anger, it was my intention to marry her… and as soon as possible.
She would be truly mine, in every sense of the word. Plus, it would add the protection of my name. Whoever was threatening her wasn’t just messing with the unknown American girlfriend of Richard Payne. They were threatening the future Duchess of Winterbourne, and for that they would pay with their lives.
Until then, I would have my security force comb through my files of known enemies. We would start with the men from the masquerade party at my estate. The ones who’d dared to touch what was mine by tumbling her cage from its perch. After that unfortunate incident, it had become a diversion of mine to ruin each and every one of their lives, starting with their fortunes. It seemed unlikely that they would have the temerity or the resources to try to come after me, but nothing was out of the realm of possibility. I couldn’t ignore the fact that it was a dead bird that had been found. I had dressed Elizabeth as a bird in her gilded cage, and quite frankly I didn’t believe in coincidences.
Of course, there was always the possibility it was simply a tasteless prank completely unrelated to Elizabeth, but there was no fucking way I would take that chance.
By tomorrow she would have a full security detail on her wherever she went.
As the car pulled to the curb in front of The Shard on St. Thomas Street, I alighted first before turning to offer my hand to Elizabeth.
As I wrapped my fingers around her small pale hand, I could feel it tremble.
Shrugging out of my dinner jacket, I laid it over her shoulders. “The fabric of this dress is far too thin. You should have brought your mink wrap with you,” I gently admonished as I tapped the end of her cute little nose.
“Richard, I…”
She turned her face away and didn’t finish.
Pulling on the lapels of my jacket, I pressed her close to the warmth of my body. Her small delicate frame trembled as I wrapped my arm around her waist and raised her face to mine with a hooked finger under her chin.
Her beautiful emerald eyes shone with the reflection of the twinkling lights of the surrounding city. Behind the glimmer, I could see she was tired.
My poor little bird.
It had been a dramatic, emotionally overwrought forty-eight hours, on top of the shock she was probably feeling being once more surrounded by the clamor of modern life.
Running my thumb over her full lower lip, I gently said, “We don’t have to stay, little one. I would be more than happy to keep you to myself tonight. Perhaps have my chef at home prepare something we can eat in our room… in bed.”
The idea had appeal. Already, I imagined licking the sweet sauce from a dessert tart off her beautiful breasts.
“No! No, I’d rather stay.”
“All right, but if I think you are looking too tired, we are going home.”
Taking her arm, I ushered her through the massive glass door entrance and into a private lift that would take us to the restaurant. While the public lifts forced patrons to switch elevators to get to the top floors, this one went straight up to the seventy-second floor.
As we entered the mirror-covered lift, I watched Elizabeth’s gaze rise in wonder to stare at the video screens on the ceiling currently depicting London life at street level. The image would change as we rose higher into the clouds.
As I