The Billionaire's Captive Golden Blood Bride

red to a stop inches from the cliff edge, the Pacific Ocean roaring somewhere below in the darkness. She grippe

inst her ribs like som

gling her hair into knots that pulled at her scalp. She didn't care. She leaned forward, f

wrong.

hield-five carats, custom cut, set in platinum that had probably cost more than her father's house in Queens. Kevon had slid it onto her fing

lt like a

thirty missed calls, all from the same name. Kevon. Her thumb hovered over the call button, then jerk

about tomorrow's wedding. The Mcconnell-Brown nuptials, they're calling it the social event of

he voice died mid-sentence, leaving only the w

t flats crunched on loose gravel as she stepped out, the hem of her sundress snapping around her knees. The cliff dropp

lder than she'd expected, or maybe that was just her body fi

to drown in a life she didn't understand, married to a man who co

in the gallery where she worked, when Kevon Mcconnell had walked in and changed everyt

of ozone and something else-mecha

a dying animal. A cough, a wheeze, then silence.

tumbling back to the car

d again, pumping the gas pedal with desperate jerks of her ankle. The car was dead. The

AAA, ready to explain that she was stranded on the Pacific Coast Highway somewhere north

in the top left corner o

ed, then vanished. The highway stretched in both directions, empty, a ribbon of asphalt disappearing into fog

was

he wheel. The diamond pressed into her cheek, hard and cold. Tears came the

ns of five hundred guests. She had ruined his trust. She imagined his face when he found her gone-not furious, but worse, disappointed. That qui

ok he got sometimes, the one that made her feel like a pr

her face, or bring her coffee exactly the way she liked it, or mention some detail about the we

s appeared wi

right. Karley jerked upright, wiping at her face with her sleeve. Her heart kick

inted against the glare, raising one hand to shield her eyes. The engine s

B11 model that Kevon kept in his priv

pping so close that she could have reached through her open window and touched its hoo

e door lifted up

steppe

than her annual salary at the gallery. His tie was loosened, the top button of his shirt undone. Even

r attention in the gallery-long strides, shoulders back, eyes fix

or. Her fingers found the lock, pressing it down, k

light flickered on, weak and yellow. He filled the frame, blo

rle

him. She stared at his hand instead, where it gripped the door frame, the p

st needed-I couldn't breathe, and

r touched

pressed just hard enough to silence her, then traced the sha

yes were the color of storm clouds, and they searched hers

he draped it around her shoulders, pulling it closed at her throat. His body heat cl

need to

m beneath her knees, the other behind

ushing against his che

made her stomach tighten. His arms tightened around her,

on Martin, the door still open, the leather seat heated and waiting. He lowered her into it wit

ar above his eyebrow from a childhood accident, the one he'd told her about in bed once, tracing her fin

ckle c

m through the thin cotton of her dress. His eyes held hers, searching, and for

ed before she could stop it. "There's no

ed around the front of the car with unhurried steps. She watched him throu

d himself into the seat, the car s

e that had graced magazine covers and architectural journals, the one that made s

orters asked about their whirlwind romance, the architect and the gallery assistant,

his man, from this love that felt too large and too bright, and he had still come for her. He had

t for the doubt, for the fear, for the part of her tha

terlacing their fingers. His thumb traced circles on her palm, hypno

rent world from her Honda's asthmatic rattle. The headlights swept across

said. "I'

g from the gallery opening where they'd met. She had been standing in front of a Rothko, pretending to under

r she had fallen in love with the version of hers

rom the vents washed over her face. Kevon's hand rem

eyes drif

face transform, the smile evaporating like morning fog, repl

rface labeled K-Asset. A map of the California coast, a red dot pulsing steadily at their current location, a

aw tight. Then he pressed a button, and the red dot vanishe

o the side, dark hair spilling across his jacket. In the dashboard light, she

ghtened on the

e legal and social bonds forged that would make her his in every way that mattered. The blood type mat

proceeding ac

ve toward the city lights, his precious cargo