Yield to Me by Tory Richards

slightly. He
swore beneath his breath and clenched his teeth, unprepared for the feeling her
vulnerability had on him. A poised, spirited Sophie he could deal with.
    “Damn you!” she sobbed huskily,
surprising them both by the passion in her tone.
    Brent reached forward and took the
gun from her hand. “You couldn’t have shot me anyway. The safety is still on.”
In spite of the tears slipping down her face, she held her ground. Reacting to
her softness, Brent surprised himself by gently wiping her cheek with the back
of his hand. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He felt compelled to promise.
    “I don’t believe you.”
    The mistrust in her eyes said it
all. Brent didn’t blame Sophie for not believing him. Why should she when everything I’ve done so far led her to presume I’m
a villain? A sucker for redhead, blue-eyed females in distress, he knew if
he didn’t force himself to walk away from her, it was just a matter of time
before he took her into his arms to comfort her. And what kind of a kidnapper
would that make him? Not a very credible one, that was for sure.
    “I can’t help that.” He tucked the
gun in the waistband of his pants, opening the closet door and reaching for a
shirt. He slipped it on, buttoning it as he faced her again. “Just remember, I
could have hurt you at any time and didn’t.” To prove how ruthless he could be
Brent’s gaze raked over her, visually stripping her naked. “I could have forced
myself on you when we were putting on that little show.”
    “You practically did.”
    “Oh no, princess.” He let his gaze slowly drop over her. “I clearly remember how
responsive you were. And I bet my fingers would have found you wet and hot down
there. Be glad I didn’t take you up on it.”
    “Thank you for restraining yourself;
that was gentlemanly of you.”
    That haughty little tone rubbed him
the wrong way and he clenched his teeth to keep from telling her to go to hell.
It was apparent she wasn’t going to give him credit for anything. He decided to
do the gentlemanly thing and ignore
her statement. “This will be your castle for a few days. There’s a bathroom
through that door.” He indicated the direction with a nod. “The TV…”
    “What about a phone? I’d like to
call my father and let him know I’m all right.”
    She was kidding, right? Brent didn’t
have time for her smart mouth, which was only going to land her in trouble.
“I’ll be in touch with daddy,” he said with cool authority. “But
what about Lord?” She didn’t seem to care about his feelings.
    A knock at the door saved her from
having to respond. Tom’s voice came through loud and clear. “You have a phone
call to make.”
    Brent’s eyes darted to the clock on
the dresser. It was almost twelve. “My cue to leave,
princess.” He stared at her long and hard, trying to decide if he should
tie her to the bed and forget about anything else. “You could probably scream
your head off and no one would hear you, but I’m not willing to take that chance.
I’ll take your word you’ll behave and won’t make any noise. What’s it going to
be?”
    “Why should you believe me?”
    “Because you’re proud and like to
think your morals are better than anyone else’s.” And because he knew if she
was anything like her father, he couldn’t expect anything less than the truth
from her. The tightening of her mouth revealed she wanted to defy him, call him
a liar, but she was a smart lady.
    “I give you my word I won’t make any
noise.”
    Brent quickly picked up on the fact
that Sophie eliminated the first half of his condition, wondering what kind of
mischief she could really get into. She’d be locked in the room and there was
no reason for Tom to open the door while he was gone. “You might want to use
that bed and get some sleep.”
    “Don’t hurry back.”
    The sugar in her voice sent up a
warning flag but Brent didn’t have time to figure out what she was stewing in
that pretty