Read Online In Control by Michelle Robbins - Free Book Online
Authors: Michelle Robbins
Tags: Erótica
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lacked. "Tell me about the apparently consensual financial submission."
Seth took a long drink, emptying the glass, and set it aside. He stared at it for a heartbeat before he glanced across the table and drilled Zach with a cool glance. "I was there to retrieve credit cards from her. Word was that she'd gained access to his bank accounts to his detriment. She refused to give them up. Said, 'Make me.'"
"You showed up to help my brother? Thank you." He gave a curt nod since he doubted Jeremy would have returned the favor. He'd always had an overweight sense of entitlement, which went well with his overweight belly.
"I showed up because she got mouthy with me. Jeremy's problems are his own."
"Ah." He didn't flinch from the brutal line in the sand. The accusation of sadism didn't sit well with him either. Stay on common ground, Roberson. "I can see that happening. She's spirited, no mistake."
"Aye," said Seth, who then resumed his story. "As I drove her from Jeremy's house, I asked again for the cards. She pulled them from the big-ass bag of hers and threw them at me. My job was done. I had the cards, but..." He hesitated, his eyes flickering over the adjoining tables before returning to Zach's. "There was no honor. The cards were in her name."
Zach's reality reeled. He remembered her protest. He remembered his mocking rejection. He remembered his determination to extract payment--for something she hadn't done? "He'd ordered bank cards for her?"
Seth waved away the waitress approaching with a pitcher of cola. "Speculation, of course, but probable."
A conclusion easily reached, Zach admitted. Furthermore, a conclusion that indicated he'd brutalized an innocent party in his misguided drive for payback. Damage like this, on the heels of what had happened six months ago-- unfairly happened six months ago?--would have significant consequences. PTSD-like consequences.
He couldn't walk away. "I need to fix this."
Seth pulled out his car keys. "Let's take a drive."
Chapter 8
Annabel tossed the TV remote control to one side, supremely disgusted. It thumped against the box of tissues beside her knee, sending it to the floor. No matter. She'd cried enough. That is, unless the reality of her situation didn't intrude again on her thoughts.
Horrible! Horrible! Seven hundred channels and nothing for her to watch beyond cheesy talk shows and kids' programming. Oh, and sports. Like, yay for sports. She'd rather gouge out her eyes than watch a game of basketball.
Her channel surfing stopped on a program where a familiar actress carried on a monologue with her television audience. At least this show seemed capable of sustaining her interest with some blather about masterpieces of literature. Wasn't that chick doing commercials for some cruise ship line these days? Wait...the topic was Wuthering Heights.
She grabbed the remote control and thumbed the channel change button with a vengeance. The last thing she needed was to watch some documentary about stupid romantic decisions. Gawd! She didn't need to be reminded about those. She was living those. In fact, it was a lifetime of living those.
A pair of cool gray eyes intruded into her thoughts. Zach's, of course. He was always on her mind these days, both for the good and bad.
He's so gorgeous, she reflected, with that heart-stopping smile and mouthwatering shoulders. He'd made her laugh and given her cause to think she'd finally been freed from her lifelong sentence of sorrow and pain. To top it off, he smelled good, too.
In fact, she'd clutched his T-shirt since she'd wakened. His scent filled the fabric. It had become her security blanket. His scent should have caused her panic, but for some ungodly reason, the shirt gave her comfort. Just more proof I can't get things right .
She blinked against the sudden pressure in her eyes and bit her lip. When would the tears end? She thought about getting another cup of peppermint tea. Maybe that would stop her tears. She pushed
Seth took a long drink, emptying the glass, and set it aside. He stared at it for a heartbeat before he glanced across the table and drilled Zach with a cool glance. "I was there to retrieve credit cards from her. Word was that she'd gained access to his bank accounts to his detriment. She refused to give them up. Said, 'Make me.'"
"You showed up to help my brother? Thank you." He gave a curt nod since he doubted Jeremy would have returned the favor. He'd always had an overweight sense of entitlement, which went well with his overweight belly.
"I showed up because she got mouthy with me. Jeremy's problems are his own."
"Ah." He didn't flinch from the brutal line in the sand. The accusation of sadism didn't sit well with him either. Stay on common ground, Roberson. "I can see that happening. She's spirited, no mistake."
"Aye," said Seth, who then resumed his story. "As I drove her from Jeremy's house, I asked again for the cards. She pulled them from the big-ass bag of hers and threw them at me. My job was done. I had the cards, but..." He hesitated, his eyes flickering over the adjoining tables before returning to Zach's. "There was no honor. The cards were in her name."
Zach's reality reeled. He remembered her protest. He remembered his mocking rejection. He remembered his determination to extract payment--for something she hadn't done? "He'd ordered bank cards for her?"
Seth waved away the waitress approaching with a pitcher of cola. "Speculation, of course, but probable."
A conclusion easily reached, Zach admitted. Furthermore, a conclusion that indicated he'd brutalized an innocent party in his misguided drive for payback. Damage like this, on the heels of what had happened six months ago-- unfairly happened six months ago?--would have significant consequences. PTSD-like consequences.
He couldn't walk away. "I need to fix this."
Seth pulled out his car keys. "Let's take a drive."
Chapter 8
Annabel tossed the TV remote control to one side, supremely disgusted. It thumped against the box of tissues beside her knee, sending it to the floor. No matter. She'd cried enough. That is, unless the reality of her situation didn't intrude again on her thoughts.
Horrible! Horrible! Seven hundred channels and nothing for her to watch beyond cheesy talk shows and kids' programming. Oh, and sports. Like, yay for sports. She'd rather gouge out her eyes than watch a game of basketball.
Her channel surfing stopped on a program where a familiar actress carried on a monologue with her television audience. At least this show seemed capable of sustaining her interest with some blather about masterpieces of literature. Wasn't that chick doing commercials for some cruise ship line these days? Wait...the topic was Wuthering Heights.
She grabbed the remote control and thumbed the channel change button with a vengeance. The last thing she needed was to watch some documentary about stupid romantic decisions. Gawd! She didn't need to be reminded about those. She was living those. In fact, it was a lifetime of living those.
A pair of cool gray eyes intruded into her thoughts. Zach's, of course. He was always on her mind these days, both for the good and bad.
He's so gorgeous, she reflected, with that heart-stopping smile and mouthwatering shoulders. He'd made her laugh and given her cause to think she'd finally been freed from her lifelong sentence of sorrow and pain. To top it off, he smelled good, too.
In fact, she'd clutched his T-shirt since she'd wakened. His scent filled the fabric. It had become her security blanket. His scent should have caused her panic, but for some ungodly reason, the shirt gave her comfort. Just more proof I can't get things right .
She blinked against the sudden pressure in her eyes and bit her lip. When would the tears end? She thought about getting another cup of peppermint tea. Maybe that would stop her tears. She pushed
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