A Prince's Ransom: Kidnapped by the Billionaire (42 page)

And he was still shirtless. And he’d gotten into her wine. Arrogant damn… Tobin, hair half-brushed out, leaned over the back of the couch and glared down at him, pressing her tongue against the back of her teeth and trying to will him to wake up by just glaring at him.

“Mow.” She lifted her gaze to the coffee table and raised a brow at Autumn, who was contently curled up there—obviously having been staring at her owner’s houseguest while he’d been making himself comfortable.

“Autumn, could you do me a really big favor?” she questioned the cat, who tilted her head up at Tobin with apparent curiosity and understanding. “Think you could scratch him up really, really well? Like you destroyed that scratching post last year two days out of the box?” Large eyes blinked at her—and then Autumn was licking the back of her paw, rubbing it against her face and ears, and then nestling down and shutting her eyes. The tip of her tail twitched a moment before stilling. Tobin glared at her. “Useless little monster.”

Sighing in aggravation, she snatched the opened bottle of wine off the kitchen counter and stomped back to her bedroom.

With an expression she was certain was like she had just eaten five lemons, Tobin stalked out of her bedroom the next morning with a now half-empty bottle of wine. She hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, and she glared furiously at Sebastian’s arm where it was draped over the side of her couch. Of course he had managed to sleep through the night after she had kneed him. Of course he was perfectly content at having decided to sleep on her couch. Meanwhile she had been torn between absolutely furious and completely paranoid for the rest of the night. Now, though, the paranoia was gone and she was really just pissed. Damn bastard needed to get the hell out of her apartment.

There was the temptation to actually physically wake him up now. Her cats were awake, save Autumn, who was still curled up contently on the coffee table. Misty and Reina had joined her, but they seemed much more perturbed by the stranger on the couch and were frantically twitching about. When she got close enough for them to notice, they meowed in unison, relieved to see her, and heading over for their morning allowance of petting—and breakfast. Probably breakfast first, she mused to herself, but they’d come to understand that they got fed quicker if they were cute.

Cute wasn’t really something she was in the mood for, though, so without petting them she moved to her kitchen and, as loudly as possible without breaking it, set the bottle of wine down. The cats flinched more than Sebastian even seemed to notice. Her eyes narrowed at him. Alright, then… metal bowls for the cat food this morning—dropped from waist height to the ground so that two managed to land upright, and she unhurriedly tried to flip the other one over with her foot. The two cats nearest to her paced back and forth restlessly now, even more perturbed. But the most Tobin had managed was waking up Autumn, who hissed in her general direction before hopping down from the coffee table to see what all of the commotion was. Just for that, she got the bowl that had been upside down.

Noisily undoing the clip on the bag of cat food, she dumped it into each of the bowls—high enough that, without getting the floor all dirty, the little pellets clanged loudly against the sides of the bowls. Misty hissed herself now, and darted off down the hall toward Tobin’s bedroom. Reina watched her go before looking up at her owner with a soft, plaintive meow. Frowning a little, Tobin sighed and knelt down to pet the feline gently, then got out a small saucer from their cabinet. More quietly, she poured cream for the three of them to enjoy; it wasn’t much longer after that, as Reina and Autumn were enjoying the meal, that Misty returned, shoving her way in between them to lap at the cream herself.

Sebastian, of course, still hadn’t moved; some part of her half expected that he was actually awake, but he was faking it to see how long she kept up the treatment, surely knowing it was on account of him. With her cats taken care of, she wasn’t really opposed to that right now, though, and she grabbed a bowl for herself from one of the other cabinets. Setting it loudly on the counter, she gave her own cereal the same treatment the cat food had gotten, only for her to pause and look toward the coffee grinder. An evil smile spread over her face, and she was grabbing a bag of beans from the pantry—a gift from Kate last Christmas—and pouring them into the grinder. Seconds later, the obnoxiously loud device was turned on, and Tobin leaned back against the counter in satisfaction as it whirred. Let’s see him try to sleep through that. She needed the caffeine anyway.

It didn’t even take a minute for him to start shifting a bit on the couch, his hand moving from where it’d been draped to rub at his face. He tried to roll over and wedge his ears between the pillow and the back of the couch, and she turned up the grinder a bit more, even though the beans were already nearly done. Adding to the cacophony, she turned the water on high as she filled the coffeepot to pour into her machine—earning more furious meows from her cats, which she silently thanked them for and would make amends for later with catnip—and only turning the grinder off maybe ten seconds after the beans were a fine powder.

The sudden silence brought a more noticeable reaction. “Jesus Christ, Tobin, I get it already, you want me awake,” he growled angrily into the pillow, lifting his head slightly to glare at her over the couch’s arm. “You’re pissing your cats off as much as you’re pissing me off.”

“Good, if it means pissing you off,” she answered nonchalantly, turning the coffeemaker on after she transferred the grounds over into the filter, and then completing her preparation of cereal by pouring in milk and grabbing a spoon. She was actually already dressed for the day, not just in her bathrobe, and she moved toward the couch and rudely shoved his legs off of it. He grunted at her and sighed, sitting up a bit straighter as she sat down and started eating.

He watched her for a long moment. “I’m going to guess I’m not allowed to help myself to breakfast.”

“Nope.”

“Or coffee.”

“Not a drop.”

“Any particular reason for your cruelty this morning, or are you just not a morning person?”

“Whether or not I’m a morning person is completely irrelevant. You are an unwanted, unwelcome houseguest who I told to leave—for all intents and purposes, you are trespassing, and if you take anything, you will be stealing.”

“Not that you’ll be calling the cops on me for that, of all reasons, because you don’t want anyone to know that I was ever in your apartment.” His voice was almost amused, which aggravated her even more.

“Again, irrelevant.”

“Whatever you say, Tobin.” He shifted on the couch again, turning around so that his head was closer to her as he lay back down, not quite in her lap, and flung his legs over the couch arm.

She glared at him. “And as it happens, I am a morning person, when morning comes after sleeping even a little tiny bit, which I could not do because there was an intruder in my home.”

“You invited me in long before I started ‘trespassing,’” he said, emphasizing the last word with air quotes, and in annoyance she reached out and slapped his chest. Sebastian grunted, and then flat out laughed, looking up at her as she ate her cereal and waited in annoyance for her coffee to be done. “I’m sorry you didn’t get any sleep, Tobin. I sort of expected you wouldn’t be coming out here again after you went and showered.”

“Oh, please, that wouldn’t have stopped you from staying—or opening a bottle of wine. A really good bottle, I might add,” she retorted, gesturing at the half-drunk wineglass sitting on the coffee table. “I had been saving that.” He didn’t know that she had been planning to open it before realizing it had been open in the first place. Sebastian gave her an upside-down, lopsided smirk, even as she continued to glare at him. After a moment, he rolled back over and gently grabbed the bowl of cereal from her hands. “Hey! Seriously, have you not caused me enough inconvenience already?”

He didn’t answer her, but instead leaned forward and kissed her—but it wasn’t like his other kisses. It wasn’t hot or hard, and that startled her almost more than the idea that he might be trying to seduce her again to keep her from griping and yelling at him anymore. No, it was almost gentle. Almost, because she could tell from the way he touched her that he wasn’t even a little bit used to being gentle when he kissed someone, but it was an attempt. An attempt that left behind the taste of wine and really bad morning breath, but it was still gentle. Almost… sweet.

Despite herself, Tobin found herself kissing him back in turn. With the same sort of gentleness, although she imagined it was probably a bit more practiced than his was. His hand lifted, cupping her cheek as he drew closer, half straddling her without actually sitting on her—just lightly pressing his bare, broad chest against her own. Her blue eyes fluttered slightly, and then shut, and she let the kiss happen for a long, long moment, never quite getting out of breath as his lips moved against hers, and…

The beep of the coffeemaker was a blessing, shaking her back to reality, and she drew back. Almost immediately, much to her surprise, he was moving off of her and pulling back, so that she could stand and get her coffee if she wanted to. Instead, she stared at him.

“What was that?” she asked at last, warily.

His brow lifted. “A kiss? I think we’ve had a few of those by now. I didn’t think you’d be so surprised.”

“That is not how you kiss—anyone, I’d bet, let alone me. So what was it?”

“You said I’m not real boyfriend material.”

Her eyebrows rocketed into her hairline. “What, so you’re actually trying to be boyfriend material now, is that it?” Tobin rolled her eyes and stood up, moving into the kitchen and pulling out a coffee mug. “News flash, you don’t become boyfriend material by being a semidecent gentle kisser.” His eyes narrowed at her, and he stood up from the couch. “And would you please put a shirt on already?”

He snorted a bit of laughter and then did as she asked, for once, grabbing his shirt off the floor and pulling it over his head. “Alright, not going to lie—I’ve never needed to be boyfriend material before.”

“Shocker.”

“Because I’ve never wanted to be anyone’s boyfriend,” he continued, his voice lowering into a bit of a growl.

“No, you’ve been perfectly content being a bit of a man-whore on the side of whatever illegal activity you’re involved with, right? Give me a break, Sebastian, you’re not boyfriend material because I doubt you have the capacity to be a boyfriend. To anyone, let alone me. And besides, I have a way better offer.”

He leaned on the counter, watching as she prepared her coffee. “Beyond the long list of reasons based on what passed between us previously, what exactly are you basing this on? How well do you know anything at all about me when you learned my name last night?”

She scoffed. “And you know me so much better?”

“I know you’re a vet, I know you have three cats. I know you have several girlfriends you go out on the town with occasionally. I know your dad recently had a heart attack and I know your ‘better offer’ is a doctor,” he rattled off like he’d earned a prize.

“All of which you know because you’ve been stalking me!” she exclaimed. “Except that you know I’m a vet because you learned while you had kidnapped me and were forcing me to perform surgery. You don’t get brownie points for things you only know because I told you under duress.”

That seemed to silence him for a few moments, and she took a long drink of coffee, trying to get her thoughts in order. He really had to be joking with all of this.

“Alright, fine,” he allowed after a long moment. “Then let me prove that I’m better than my worst moment. One date.”

Tobin stared at him. “A date?”

“Yes. One date. A real date, just the two of us getting to know each other the way we’re supposed to.”

She was silent, turning the thought over in her head as she stared at him. “If you fail this date, you actually have to get out of my life and leave me alone.”

“And if I don’t fail,” he countered immediately, “I get two more dates.”

Tobin clenched her jaw. What were the chances of him ever managing to succeed on a real date? “Alright, fine. I choose the time and place, nothing illegal, we do not have sex afterwards, and you accept my decision on whether it was a successful date or not. Deal?”

He glowered at her a moment, then sighed. “Deal.”

“Good. Now you do actually have to get out of my apartment. I have to go to work.”

Sebastian laughed slightly and moved to pick up the rest of his things—frowning as he pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jacket. “No problem, I have to go anyway. My number.” He grabbed a napkin and a pen that had been lying on the counter and scribbled out a number before smiling at her and finally, finally leaving.

Tobin sulked over the rest of her coffee, wondering what she’d gotten herself into now.

Despite the supposed urgency of Capozzi’s messages the night before and this morning, Sebastian was left to pace the main room of the bar restlessly for most of the day, growing more agitated with each hour that passed. Some part of him wanted to just leave—damn the old man and whatever he wanted, if he couldn’t be bothered to meet him promptly—but he had a feeling that that wasn’t a good idea. No, Capozzi didn’t usually arrange meetings like this with him, and so annoying as it was, he would stay.

The bar hadn’t been particularly busy at all, considering what time it was and the fact that it was a Thursday, but he still made the employees and anyone who happened to wander in all the more uncomfortable. He prowled about, glancing every few minutes at the door that led upstairs, and silently demanding that someone come and get him so that he could get this over with. He wanted to leave. He wanted to get things ready for when Tobin called him. It was possible, he admitted to himself, that she wouldn’t call him, that she’d try to avoid the deal they had made altogether, but somehow he didn’t really think that she would do that. Or maybe it was just hope.

Finally, though, after he’d been waiting around four or five hours, Capozzi’s blonde girlfriend wobbled down the stairs. She looked like she’d been crying, although he couldn’t be certain—and unlike last time, when she’d subtly flirted with him the entire time, she only mumbled that the man was ready to see Sebastian before scurrying off like a mouse. He frowned as he watched her go, then turned and headed upstairs. Trying to hide his own impatience, he rapped on the door, barely controlling the harshness with which he wanted to bang and demand entrance.