His for Now (His #2) by Octavia Wildwood Read Free Book Online Page B

destination, I was led inside some sort of building and laid down on a bed.  When my hands were untied I felt a glimmer of hope but then I felt cool metal on my wrists and heard the clink of handcuffs being snapped shut.  With mounting horror, I realized I’d been cuffed to a bed!
    My mind began to entertain all sorts of awful scenarios and for a moment I felt myself on the verge of panic.  But then something inside me took over and I calmed down.  Neither fight nor flight was an option for me at the moment…so I’d simply have to rely on my wits and wait for an opportunity to present itself. 
    “Unless there’s anything else you need, I’ll be going now,” I heard the driver tell Hayden.  “As we discussed, I’ll be at the end of the road watching the cabin.  We have another agent staked out at the back to make sure no one tries to get in from that direction.”
    “Yes, good,” Hayden replied, sounding annoyed by the whole thing.  “Thank you.”
    As soon as the driver left, Hayden pulled my blindfold off and removed my gag.  As my eyes adjusted to the light I looked around and saw we were in the bedroom of what appeared to be a rustic cabin.  The walls were made of wooden logs, which explained the faint and pleasant smell of pine I’d noticed upon entry.  The four poster bed I was handcuffed to looked antique and expensive, as did the rest of the furnishings.
    Under different circumstances, I might be happy to be there.  It was like a luxurious wilderness getaway.  Except I was there against my will and had no idea what was in store for me.  I looked at Hayden questioningly.  Part of me wanted to tear him a new one but now wasn’t the time.  First I needed to assess the situation.
    “I’m so sorry,” he murmured as he propped a pillow behind me.  “Are you thirsty?” he asked, opening a bottle of water and holding it to my lips.  At that moment I realized I was parched, so I gulped it down gratefully.
    Hayden sat at the edge of the bed tentatively, his eyes studying my face intently.  “I suppose you have all sorts of questions,” he said.  “And after what I’ve put you through, you deserve answers.”  He sighed wearily.  “I don’t even know where to begin.”
    With a faraway look in his eyes, Hayden told me, “I always knew my father was an asshole, but I had no idea just how horrible he could be.  When I agreed to work for him I was young and naïve, fresh out of college and with no direction in life.”
    A twinge of nostalgia flashed in Hayden’s eyes as he recalled the life he’d had.  “I got in a lot of trouble in college, mostly for petty nonsense.  My father was convinced I was headed nowhere and I expected him to give up on me.  But instead he offered me what sounded like a dream job, traveling the world and brushing elbows with the rich and famous.  How could I pass that up?  So I agreed to help him build his art empire.”
    “On my first assignment, h e sent me to Germany to pick up a new piece he was acquiring.  It was an original from the Omari Heath collection.  It was a lesser known piece, but even so – it was Omari Heath.”
    When Hayden noticed the blank look in my eyes, he explained, “Omari Heath is a pretty huge deal in the art community.  The piece I picked up in Germany was worth millions of dollars.”
    “Oh.”
    “ It was a deal my father had already made before I came onboard; my role was just to facilitate the artwork’s transport back to his summer home.  So, stupidly, I did it.  Stupidly, I trusted him, without verifying any of the information I’d been provided with myself.  I only came to find out later that the piece was stolen.”
    With a bitter laugh of a son betrayed, Hayden scoffed, “My father claimed he didn’t know , but I find that preposterous.  He’s in the business of buying and selling art.  He’s a collector.  He’s an expert.  If he didn’t know what he was purchasing, then he should have.  He