Burning Ultimatum (Trevor's Harem #4) by Aubrey Parker Read Free Book Online

I want to shut my mouth, and never speak again.  
    Caspian reaches up and snugs his tie. Then his big hands return to the arms of his chair.
    “I can help you with that situation,” Caspian says. I see a tiny smirk. “Or I can hinder you.”  
    I swallow.  
    “If you perform to my liking today — if you pass this test — then Linda and Jenny will never need to worry about their past again.”
    I don’t like what I imagine coming, but the threat is too thick to ignore. I can’t believe Kylie, but don’t doubt this man and what his money can do. When he promises help, I believe him.
    I must do well.  
    “So how do I pass?”
    I wait for instructions. I wait for rules. I wait for expectations. I wait for parameters and guidelines. Instead, Caspian repeats what he’s already said:
    “You pass.”  

CHAPTER SIX

Bridget

    My inner wiseass wants to say all sorts of stupid things. I use humor as a defense. I guess it’s supposed to prove that I’m so at ease with a situation that I can kick back enough to make witty rejoinders. But this time, in this place, no jokes rise to my lips, and I only repeat what he’s said in the privacy of my mind:
    To pass, I pass.  
    Deconstructed, so I can have a step-by-step guide, that means step one is to pass.  
    And if I do that, I’ll pass.  
    “I don’t understand.”  
    “You’re not supposed to.”  
    “But it would help if I knew more of what you wanted.” I force out the rest, knowing it sounds stupid: “So I can do my best to please you.”  
    “I’m not being enigmatic, Bridget. I actively want you to not understand. I want you confused.”  
    I think of the waiting room, where I couldn’t get comfortable. The sights and sounds that unsettled me for unknown, nonspecific reasons.  
    Before I can shut myself up, I say, “Why?”  
    “When you meditate, you clear your mind. You experience nothingness to find the truth within.”  
    It’s a strange thing to say. It also seems to be the only answer I’m going to get. I try to see the room as a meditation of sorts, and find it’s not impossible. There’s little to see from under the spotlight since my eyes won’t adjust to the gloom. The chaise is so soft, it’s almost as if I’m sitting on air. It’s like a sensory deprivation tank, robbing me of inputs so I can hear my inner voice.
    Which, by the way, is freaked right the fuck out of its mind. This is too weird. Normal people don’t do things like this. I consider the rumors spread about Caspian White. When most women hear them, they say they’d love to indulge the oddity … but they haven’t sat where I’m sitting now, and if they had, maybe they’d know better.  
    “What do you want?” I ask.  
    “I want you.”  
    “You can’t have me.”  
    He laughs as if this is the stupidest thing anyone has ever said. “Not like that.”  
    “How then?”  
    “Do you really not know who you are?”  
    I can’t help myself. I give him a condescending squint. Like the jokes that wanted to bubble up earlier, the squint is meant to let him know I’m above all of this, that he isn’t getting to me. But my heart is a triphammer. My breath is short. I’m lightheaded. Almost nothing has happened, but I feel like I’ve gone ten rounds with a heavyweight.
    I wonder if I’m supposed to answer, but Caspian beats me to it.  
    “No, of course you don’t. Nobody knows who they truly are.”
    “I know who I am. I know where I’m from. I know what I want.”  
    Caspian seems surprised that I’ve spoken. His eyebrows rise and finally — finally — I see a strange smile lift the corners of his lips. I know we’re in a total mind fuck of a room, and that intimidation is the primary objective. It’s working — but even through it all, I can’t help responding to what turns out to be an irresistible charm. There’s a reason everyone is talking about this man. He looks like a Norse god; he commands every situation; he has a manner and