In His Grasp: Contract Wife

The proposal

They crossed the Waterloo Bridge and Thames River.

These men were all muscles, dangerous professionals, she supposed, looking at Ivan's veined, bulging hand, steering the wheel. While taking the surroundings in, her mind mapped their route.

Knowing precisely where they were could be of great importance if escaping them.

They passed the Savoy Hotel, Opera House, and Holborn station. Leila feared they would take her far, outside of the city. At least, they remained in central London, making it easier for her to flee.

"Where are you taking me?" Her nerves were wrecking.

"Where are we going? Who are you?" For the whole twelve minutes of their drive, she never stopped asking them.

"What do you want from me? Who ordered this?" All her questions stayed unanswered. These men were mute.

And very rich for sure, she reckoned, seeing the car access an enclosed courtyard, parking right in front of the hotel reception. She knew this hotel, dining here with her parents when her mother was still alive, whole another life ago.

The grand, elegant Rosewood hotel, set in an ornate Edwardian mansion, was one of London's finest, most expensive hotels. And definitely not some shithole. It gave Leila hope, watching men exit the cars. They pulled her the last out of the vehicle.

If she would draw some attention, maybe she could get help.

"Let's drop the package off to the boss!" Ivan told his men, and they followed him.

"Boss?" She asked. But Ivan silently pushed her toward the hotel entrance, not letting her slip from his grip.

When stepping on the black and white striped floors of the foyer, Leila tried to liberate herself from two men holding her. The receptionist saw her struggling, but he ignored it, obviously working with her kidnappers. Even five-star hotels weren't what they used to be, she figured.

They climbed the marble stairway to the last floor of the building. Ivan opened the door, all four shoved her inside the room, like sending a message and showing off their strengths. She stumbled first, then looked around.

It was a spacious suite with a gorgeous view of the city streets' busy nightlife.

"Ms. Leila Swift!" She heard the voice, together with that click. The door just got locked. There was a man in this suite. She still couldn't grasp where he was.

Her heart was hammering ferociously in her chest, and her already sore throat got drier. She clamped her hands together, her fingers fidgeting the hem of that gray shirt restlessly.

And her eyes roamed all over the room, searching for the man.

"Who are you? Why am I here? What do you want from me?" Suppressing the nervousness, Leila asked. She saw the man sitting on a swirling chair, his back facing her. He was looking through the window, enjoying the night view.

She did her best, trying to appear less scared than she really was. But her voice still gave her off, quivering.

"Did you already forget me? That quickly?" His voice was husky, sounding like mocking her. She took a better look at him without getting closer. But all she saw was his head and his legs, his hair black and short. Those legs seemed long, so he must be tall. And what was he babbling?

She didn't know him. It made her angry.

"How can I forget someone I never met?" Leila returned equally arrogantly, finally getting a bit of her courage back. Anger does that to you. It makes you braver.

"Ooh, but you met me. And you stole something from me, Leila." He remained relaxed, drawing his words out teasingly slowly.

"I didn't steal anything. And how do you know my name? Who are you? Are you doing this for ransom?" Leila got nervous again. She didn't steal a thing in her life.

And him, knowing her name, scared a s**t out of her.

"No ransom," he told her. She had even less clue what he wanted now. Then, he continued. "We'll get to who I'm and how I know your name later. Not only you've stolen something from me, but you refused to take the same thing back from me too." He arrogantly played games with her, talking nonsense.

"If you think I stole something, call the police! I don't understand you. You kidnapped me. Let me out!" Leila's anxiety only grew heavier. She didn't commit any offense, and theft was a serious crime. But so was kidnapping.

"No need for the police. We'll resolve this on our own, Leila." The man didn't worry about getting charged with kidnapping at all.

"Resolve what?" She screamed.

"Our situation. That thing we shared." His voice was cold as ice.

"What situation? We shared nothing. I don't know what you mean. Tell me what I stole. And what you want?"

"I will. Have patience. You first stole one and then rejected another." The man mysteriously said, confusing her more.

"What was it that I stole and rejected? Stop this! Tell me what I did, or let me go!" Leila impatiently yelled. She was so annoyed with the man and his arrogance.

"The best is I show you!" His words sounded both as the announcement and the threat, and she witnessed it when hearing that swirling chair swirl like a tornado, scraping the floor beneath it as he turned around.

Leila watched him as he stood up, tall and well-built, for the first time seeing his face.

The man facing her was gorgeous, with such a pretty face and stunning body, moving fast as a panther toward her.

She stepped back, but it was too late. The man already gripped her waist, walking her backward. His scent was a danger. All she managed to do before he pinned her against the wall was letting out a sigh. Her breath hitched as his lips anchored hers.

And his tongue dipped inside her mouth, parting her lips forcibly.

That taste! Cool as mint and hot as chocolate.

It was him, Leila realized as they entangled their tongues. The man she kissed in that bar.

He was talking about the kiss all this time.

She heard herself moaning against his mouth as he kissed her roughly. His hands were all over her, exploring her every curve. And hers were clasping his shoulders, combing his hair.

How dared he? She had to stop him. And herself.

They were in the hotel. Leila saw the bedroom next door, feeling panic building inside her. And something else. She was melting like snow under his warm touch.

"Stop! Stop it! Please! Let me go!" Leila finally pushed him away.

And just simply, he let her go.

He walked to the sofa, motioning her to join him. Leila didn't dare ask any questions, only sat the furthest she could from him. Then, he took a folder from the coffee table, handing it to her.

"Sign this, and I'll let you go!"

She glanced at him suspiciously, starting to read.

His name was Nate Hill. Of course, she heard of him! The CEO of the Hill Corporation, the biggest company in London. Leila didn't know much about the man.

Alice mentioned him a few times, saying he was hot as lava.

She kissed that lava.

And Alice was right.

Nate Hill was very hot but not as nearly as arrogant and toxic.

Everything about him was toxic, his stunning face, his sexy body, and the way his lips tasted when he kissed her. Pure poison!

But when she read the last paragraph, she gaped at him open-mouthed in shocking surprise. Leila couldn't believe this guy.

She only kissed him.

And Nate Hill wanted her to become his wife.

"I just proposed to you, I guess," he smirked at her like a devil himself.