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Chapter Four

The Necessary Distraction

Tucker

Just look at her.

An unexpected swell of emotion stirred as Tucker stared, his gaze devouring Ella's delicate features as her mouth parted in apparent horror. Her lips looked temptingly soft, revealing a glimpse of whatever cosmetics they'd once worn before her low-life father had abandoned her. Despite the trepidation dancing in her eyes, they were the brightest shade of green he could ever recall seeing before. As his gaze scanned the rest of her face, he noticed attractive gold and pearl earrings attached to her delicate lobes. Evidently, she was as spoiled as she was tempting.

But I can't be tempted.

The pretty little rich girl should hold no allure for him. She was the very epitome of all that he loathed and resented—the type of person who clung desperately to their possessions, caring more for aesthetics than what genuinely counted. He knew those women—had known them in a time before the wilderness—and he had no time for them. In his opinion, the things that truly mattered in life could be counted on one hand. Tucker enjoyed the outdoors, the Earth, and the many blessings she bestowed. He preferred a simple existence, having already tasted the alternative.

Everything about Ella was so unlike the life he'd come to value. Yet gazing at her, he couldn't deny, if only to himself, how enticing she was and how—should he be stupid enough—he might allow a distraction like her to become a permanent feature.

His balls tightened at the electrifying prospect. There was no space for a woman in his life, yet fleetingly, the idea of keeping her filled his mind. Ella would certainly offer a pleasant diversion from his daily routine, and even after so many years without a woman, it wasn't difficult to imagine how.

She'd make an appealing feature in his cabin if only she'd learn to stop arguing and behave. In his mind's eye, he could see her on all fours, providing her master with the footrest he required after a long and hard day. For too long, he'd had to make do without one, but he was certain Ella would do a more satisfactory job.

There were plenty of other roles she could take on around his home as well. Each might normally be considered mundane in nature, yet the possibility of her presence abruptly brightened them all. If he could learn to trust her, then she could make herself useful with the broom and sweep the outside decking. Of course, he'd insist she did so chained and naked, her nudity squeezing the hours of opportunity into a rather small window—especially as the autumn draped its colorful shroud over the forest—but it was a limitation he was prepared to accept in order to admire her. Tucker was willing to bet there was a tight and toned body hiding under her awful attire.

She's still too young.His hand balled momentarily as the concept resounded. I'm old enough to be her father.

He bet he would still have done a better job parenting than Bennett.

She might be older than he'd expected, but catching her eyes, he was the first to admit that her additional years did her no disservice. On the contrary, she wore the time well, her gaze conveying life experience as she grappled to grasp what was happening to her.

He had no doubt the lifestyle Bennett had plucked her from was a different life from the one Tucker had chosen. He, too, had been a part of the high-flying billionaire set once before the military and discipline had helped to focus him. That old life was where he'd come across vermin like Alexander Bennett in the first place. But Tucker had opted out, choosing a humbler existence and never once regretting his choice. He only left his beloved forest and stepped back into the fray to ensure debtors like Bennett paid up.

"So, that's it?"

Her chest rose and fell so fast, he wondered if she'd pass out. That, at least, would present him with the opportunity to get her home without such a fuss.

"You're just going to take me, and damn what I think?"

For one brief moment, he longed to know what she was thinking. Was she terrified of the undeniable threat he posed, or was there a part of her, too, that contemplated a future where they were more than only adversaries?

It was impossible to tell. God knew Tucker had long lost any expertise in female body language. As it was, there was only disdain etched into her attractive face. Her wrinkled nose and furrowing brow conveyed how little his proposal appealed.

He couldn't blame her shocked and disgusted response. Tucker supposed he might have felt much the same way had he been the one in ropes, and especially had he been a woman, but that didn't mean he wanted to deal with her hysterics. That said, her wide eyes and panicked gasps were more stimulating than he would have envisioned.

Suddenly, the demure blonde was more than only a liability. She was a curiosity.

Suddenly, she presented the possibility that their time together could be more than only a chore.

"Pretty much."

She might as well know where she stood. However long she stayed, there would only ever be one person in charge, and unfortunately for the diminutive woman, it would never be her.

"Take your hands off me!" She pushed her bound hands into his abdomen in an apparent attempt to shove him away. Tucker wasn't sure how much effort she'd put into the thrust, but if her attempt was genuine, he barely even felt the push.

The dismay his lack of reaction had produced was evident in her fascinating eyes. Her gaze narrowed as she watched his responses, the glint in her orbs signifying what he thought to be a range of emotions. Certainly, he saw fear gleaming there. It was a look he knew well enough from worms like Bennett when he squeezed them for what they owed him, but Tucker noticed there were other feelings, too.

Once again, he was struck by how he longed to know her mind. The desire surprised him. In the days he'd made plans for his new indemnity, he'd never once anticipated wondering, or caring, how she would feel.

He had thought to bind and intimidate her until she agreed to yield—a plan he still intended to run with—but never had he thought about her feelings on the subject.

The unexpected response was perplexing and one he'd need to analyze, but only once he had the unruly waif where she belonged—on her knees at his fireside.

"No." Tucker hadn't known her long, but their limited time together and her endless queries had revealed a person of at least reasonable intelligence. He wanted to ensure she understood what he was about to say next. "I need to get you home, and you can't walk with your ankles bound."

"Then release me!" Exasperation echoed in her voice.

"Again, no." Tucker didn't have a reputation as the most patient man, and her constant resistance was wearing thin. "We do things my way."

Acting as he'd planned all along, he swooped, collecting her at the hips and lifting her over his right shoulder. She went with ease, seeming to weigh practically nothing as he gripped her around the thighs and held her in place.

Turning to survey her upturned ass, his lips twitched into a smirk. This was how he wanted her—placated and subdued—but his pleasure fast ebbed away by the scream of irritation that left her lips. The noise cut through the pleasant hum of forest life, frightening two small birds that flew swiftly from a nearby tree.

"Put me down!" Her fists pounded against his back as she shouted, though the taps were more vexing than painful.

"Stop that." His arm tightened around her thighs.

Tucker had intended the journey home to be about contemplation and perhaps, should he decide so, him discovering more about her with a limited number of questions of his choosing. He would abide neither her volume nor her incessant thrashing arms.

"No. Bloody. Way!" She punctuated each word with a fresh smack to his upper back, catching him just below his shoulder blades. "You can't do this."

His pace slowed at the strikes, his brow creasing as he considered how best to deal with his charge. Surely, it would have been better if he had scared her into unconsciousness? At least that way, she'd have been compliant.

Shaking his head, he mused on the writhing woman thrown over his shoulder. He'd expected antagonism from her. She was, after all, the daughter of Bennett—a known pain in the ass. How could his child be any better? The difference, though, as Ella would soon have to learn, was that Tucker was not her father. He was a man who, if pushed, would find other uses for the surety with the tempting backside.

He couldn't resist the smile that crept to his mouth as he lifted his free hand and skimmed it along the backs of her thighs toward those tempting cheeks.

"I am doing this." His palm reached her ass, hovering a few inches over it as he stalked on. He waited a second, reveling in the thrilling power he held over her before it landed hard against her curved backside. "It's time you learned your place."

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