Read Online Gone With the Wolf by Kristin Miller - Free Book Online

from brown to matte black.
    “I’m done eating anyway,” Emelia said curtly, humiliated that she’d slept in Drake’s bed and eaten his food. She should be at her place, in her own bed, rummaging through her fridge for something that wasn’t stale. “What am I doing here?”
    “Saturday night, after I left your bar, I came home and did some work, then decided that I wanted to see you home after all.” He brewed a cup of coffee for himself and settled into the plush leather chair in the corner. “Mr. Bloomfield drove me back, and I did business in the backseat until you closed for the night. I got so absorbed in the stock roll that I didn’t see you lock up. I didn’t know what was happening until you came barreling out of the parking lot.”
    “What… did happen?” She needed to hear the words from his lips before she went ape-shit.
    He tapped the edge of his mug. “What do you think happened?”
    “Some of the details are a bit fuzzy, but I remember some biker dude wanted to use my phone, and I remember seeing him leap on top of my car.” She shuddered at the creepy mental image. As she tried to sift through the haze of the rest of the night, Emelia mindlessly picked up another doughnut and settled on the edge of the bed. Her side ached, just below her hip. She rubbed the spot, then met Drake’s guilt-ridden gaze. “Something bit me right before I zonked out.”
    “I should explain.” He took a deep, labored breath. “I used a very mild tranquilizer dart to put you to sleep.”
    “You… what ?”
    “You were panicking when I needed you to stay calm. I had to get out of there quickly and knew you’d ask a ton of questions and slow our escape.”
    “So you drugged me?” As white-hot pulses of anger surged through Emelia’s veins, she chucked the doughnut at Drake’s head. He dodged it effortlessly, causing it to splat against the wall behind him. “Who does that? Are you sick? Do you belong to some Seattle-based mafia?”
    “I’m sorry, Emelia.” Sucker looked sincere with his plush, downturned lips. “I swear I’ll never do anything like that again. I’m not mafia of any kind, and you were never in any danger.”
    Emelia’s insides squirmed—she had to move. She plopped down her coffee cup on the makeshift buffet before striding out of the room. “You didn’t roofie the coffee, did you?”
    “I’m not a creep,” Drake said, following her down the brightly lit hall. “I did what I had to do to protect you and get you out of there. I’m not going to slip something into your drink to have my way with you while you’re unconscious.”
    “Wouldn’t put much past you now,” she snapped.
    Stopping at the top of the stairs, Emelia looked right, down a hallway lined with marble figures. Looked left, down another hallway just as elegant as the other. She’d stepped out of Drake’s bedroom and right into the Louvre. She hadn’t remembered seeing such elegant masterpieces the night of the office party—he must’ve had his valuables moved out. Golden blankets of sunshine spilled through the massive skylights, casting favorable light over his entire great room. Artwork in gold-trimmed frames and elaborate tapestries covered the walls while knights in full armor seemed to guard every closed hallway door.
    “Do you honestly believe I’m capable of something like that?” Drake followed her winding flight down the stairs, his hand sweeping over the banister moments behind hers. “If you’d slow down a minute we could clear some things up.”
    Emelia couldn’t stop. She had to move so she could think straight. What was she implying, anyway? That Drake slipped something in her coffee so he could have his way with her?
    On the outside, Drake masterfully played the part of a lying, shrewd businessman. But Emelia got the feeling that it was a show, a staged front to hide a warm vulnerability beneath the chilly persona. There had to be more to Drake than an expensive suit and a