The Jilted Heiress And Her Possessive Guardian

Ardella was forced to look up at him. The grip on her chin sent sharp spikes of pain through her jaw, but she refused to make a sound.

Ethelbert's eyes were like blue fire. His gaze burned over her lips and her pale, wet cheeks.

The tension in the car was pulled so tight it was about to snap. Then, Ardella's phone rang.

The loud, shrill ringtone shattered the silence. Ethelbert's fingers twitched, his grip loosening just a fraction.

Ardella used the distraction. She jerked her head back, breaking his hold, and pressed her body hard against the car door.

She dug into her bag with shaking hands and pulled out her phone. The screen showed Eleanor's name.

She felt Ethelbert's heavy, burning stare fixed on the glowing screen. A reckless, self-destructive idea flashed in her mind.

She did not answer the call. She pressed the mute button.

Ethelbert narrowed his eyes. "Why aren't you answering? Is the Coffey boy calling to beg?"

Ardella pushed her wet hair out of her face. She put on a fake, careless smile.

"It's not Braden. It's an old Wall Street guy I just met. He's annoying."

She let her voice drop into a cheap, flirtatious tone. "But he is very generous. He said he wants to buy me an apartment in Tribeca."

The air in the car turned into solid ice.

Ethelbert's chest heaved. A terrifying, violent storm ripped through his blue eyes.

He lunged at her. He grabbed her shoulders and slammed her hard against the cold window glass. The impact knocked the breath out of her lungs with a quiet gasp.

He shoved his knee aggressively between her legs, completely pinning her to the seat. There was nowhere to run.

Ethelbert ground his teeth together. The sound vibrated in his chest. "Say that again. Who is buying you an apartment?"

Ardella felt a sick, twisted thrill. She had found his breaking point. She had hurt him.

She stared defiantly into his furious eyes. "I am an adult, Mr. Stone. My private life is none of your business."

Ethelbert dropped his head. His lips were a millimeter away from her nose. His breathing was heavy and ragged.

"None of my business?" he snarled. "Did you forget? Every single inch of your skin was raised by me."

The words were raw and dripping with dark possessiveness. Ardella's face burned hot. Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs.

He tilted his head. He was going to kiss her. She could feel the heat of his mouth.

Suddenly, the driver slammed on the brakes.

The violent physics of the sudden stop threw them forward. Before Ardella could hit her head on the glass, Ethelbert's hand shot out. He cupped the back of her head, taking the impact against his own arm.

The intercom buzzed. Leo's voice came through. "Sir, we have arrived at The Plaza Hotel."

The words acted like a bucket of ice water. The suffocating heat in the car vanished.

Ethelbert pulled his hand away as if she had burned him. He slid back to his side of the car, straightened his suit jacket, and locked his face back into a mask of cold indifference.

Ardella gasped for air. She grabbed her bag and shoved the car door open, practically falling out onto the pavement.

She stood under the grand awning of the hotel. She watched the black Rolls Royce speed away into the rainy night, disappearing down Fifth Avenue.

She reached up and touched the back of her head. The heat from his palm was still burned into her hair. The tears she had been fighting finally spilled over her eyelashes and hit the concrete.