My Reluctant Warden by Kallysten Page A

up, do you? Where I am is none of your concern. What should concern you is where Angelina is. And what’s happening to her right now.”
    She came back to the computer then and did something so that the angle shifted, now straight up rather than horizontal. She looked at me as she said, “Well, since you’re asking, she’s turning a rather alarming shade of purple. I asked her to do one little thing for me, and she thought she’d say no. As you can imagine—”
    Whatever he said to her, she shook her head. “Ask her yourself.”
    She frowned, then shrugged. “Fine. I told her she’d sleep in your bed tonight. With you in it, or it’s cheating.”
    She was still looking down at me, her frown deepening even more. “Of course I can’t force you,” she said, still talking into the phone. “It’s up to you what you decide to do. But decide soon because she looks like she’s about to pass out.”
    Her image was becoming a little fuzzy on the screen as she hung up the call. Well, really, everything was becoming a little fuzzy. I closed my eyes for a second or two. When I opened them again, the video chat window was empty, showing only a gray ceiling. I was alone. Alone with the pounding in my ears, the cold sweat running down my back, and the fear gripping my heart.
    Was this how I would die? Alone in a room I’d been forced to live in, trapped by orders coming from thousands of miles away?
    When I heard a door open outside the bedroom and hurried steps, I knew at once who was coming. And even if he’d been rude, even if he scared me, even if I absolutely did not want to spend the night with him, part of me was overjoyed that Mr. Ward had come to help.
    I almost fell off the chair when he tugged it away from the desk to get a look at me. He caught me, his hand gentle as it gripped my shoulder and kept me in my seat. His eyes roamed my face, and he swore under his breath. Or at least, I assume he swore. By the tone of his voice and the anger he put in those two syllables, it sounded like a swearword. It just wasn’t any language I knew.
    “Angelina. Can you hear me?”
    I tried to nod, but my head sort of flopped to one side. The next thing I knew, he was picking me up and carrying me out of my suite. I could guess where he was taking me, of course.
    “Don’t… want.”
    My body felt as heavy as lead, but I managed to move a little in his arms. He held me closer to his chest, and as hard as it was to breathe, I could smell his intoxicating scent, a hint of cologne and something masculine and enticing and so very much him.
    “Neither do I,” he said without looking down at me. “But it doesn’t look like either of us has a choice. Unless you want me to let you die?”
    No, I didn’t want to be left to die, but at the same time I couldn’t let him think he had a free pass to my body.
    “Please. Don’t force—”
    Don’t force me to have sex was what I meant to say, but he looked down at me, and when our gazes met, I lost my voice. His eyes were full to the brim with anger, but somehow I knew, even in the state of agitation I was in, that he wasn’t mad at me. He was angry for the same reason I was, and his anger was directed toward the same person: Miss Delilah.
    “I won’t force you to do anything,” he said in a low, growling voice. “I won’t lay a finger on you. Lilah told you to sleep in my bed, didn’t she? So that’s what will happen. That’s all that will happen. Sleep.”
    Could I believe him? I wanted to, but I was also afraid to. In my state, if he wanted to take advantage of me, there really wasn’t much I could do to stop him, which wasn’t a pleasant realization.
    And yes, I know, I’d had naughty thoughts about him. There had even been that shared X-rated fantasy in which we’d done a lot more than ‘sleep’ together. But fantasizing about him was very different from being compelled to have sex with him. I’ve had fantasies about a few movie stars or artists over the years,