Read Online Bound by Sin: The Beginning of a Prophecy (Prophecy #3) by Stevie J. Cole - Free Book Online Page B

you want." He grabbed the sides of my face , bringing mine in close to his. “Anything.”
    "Let me call my mother."
    His smile faded, his dimples disappearing as he took in a large breath. He stood, silently staring at me. His gaze drifted past me to the mother and child I'd been watching. His teeth raked across his lip and he bit down on the skin. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back and groaned. “Damn it, Brooke. Don’t do this to me. I can give you anything, anything in the damned world – but I can’t allow you to do that. I’m sorry.”
    He walked off, my hand still clutched within his, pulling me to follow him. I stood fir mly in place. My vision became blurred behind the tears as anger swept over me.
    Turning around, he gla red at me. The sympathy he’d shown was quickly transforming into aggravation. “Go ahead and get mad with me. But I’ll not let you do something so foolish.”
    Foolish. That word cut me to the bone.
    Gavin released a low growl under his breath and shook his head. “We ’ve no business out here anyway. I’ve already given in to you once. I’ll not make the mistake of doing it again. Your mortal mind cannot fathom the wickedness that is about to be unleashed on us both.”
    He yanked my arm again and this time I followed him, stumbling as my feet drug beneath me. We walked in complete silence back to the hotel. Every few minutes he would glance down at me. Sometimes he looked angry, other times he looked hurt. I felt like a prisoner being marched off to be exiled.
    Later that night we were awoken by the phone ringing. Without thinking , I reached over and answered it, still half asleep.
    “Mrs. Hunter?” a quivering voice asked.
    “I’m – I’m sorry?” I groaned. Being half asleep, still somewhat disoriented, and having someone refer to me as “Mrs. Hunter” left me unable to properly form words.
    “Mrs. Hunter, this is Christopher from the front desk. It seems there ’s a bit of a nasty storm approaching, and we are in its direct path. At this time we are asking all our guests to come down to the ballroom on the first floor for safety precautions.”
    The man hung up , and I laid there trying to wake myself up. Thunder shook the windows and lighting splintered through the sky, casting an eerie green glow over the bedroom walls.
    The sudden noise startled me and I grabbed Gavin’s arm. “Gavin.” I shook him and he roused. Rolling his head toward me, his eyes opened, then another roar of thunder rattled the room.
    “They said there’s a storm and we need to come downstairs.”
    The wind screamed around the patio, the strength of it causing the windows to shake. My fingers sank into his flesh. “Come on,” I begged.
    We made our way down through the lobby, behind the desk, and into the elegant ballroom w here all the other guests had taken seats at the tables. Nervous expressions had fallen over most of their faces; legs were shaking and women were pacing, holding sleeping children on their chests. I glanced back at Gavin and he didn’t look concerned at all; he actually looked rather annoyed that he was woken from sleep.
    I overheard one of the women ask someone, “A tornado? In London? Whoever heard of such a thing?”
    That word caused me to panic. Growing up in the southern part of the United States, I’d had well over my fair share of the destruction those storms caused. Before I was able to turn and express my concern to Gavin, one of the hotel employees came running in. His eyes were bulging, his lips were trembling, and he was panting. “They’ve reported it tearing through West Essex!”
    The room filled with gasps . A low murmur of panic tore through the crowd and my heart pounded. “Where’s West Essex?” I asked Gavin.
    His face was still untouched with the slightest amount of concern at the situation. “Miles from here.” Studying the worry on my face, he leaned back against the wall and drew my back against him. “Now,” he whispered