Billionaire Romance: Flame by Stephanie Graham Page B
Authors: Stephanie Graham
Self-defense is not a crime, you know. We can lock him up and he won’t hurt you again.”
Belle squealed, suddenly amused. “No. Dennis couldn’t hurt a fly if he tried. Um. We were making out… I hit him, accidentally. We are on a good old road trip. We are from London, you see.”
Roger had his arms akimbo. He scowled as he processed what she was telling him. Authoritatively he moved towards the Maserati, running his hand on its smooth exterior. This flustered Dennis.
“Then I hope to only find tea and biscuits when I search your car,” Roger said. Dennis intercepted the police officer, daringly staring him down. The officer wasn’t intimidated. He asked, “Are you obstructing justice?”
“What justice? We’ve done nothing wrong so back off and go back to doing your petty job!”
Belle touched Dennis’s hand. She didn’t want a confrontation to ensue. His uptight behavior made him appear guilty when they’d done nothing wrong.
The police officer was adamant. “What is it? Think I’ll steal your tea?”
Roger made to push past when Dennis violently shoved him down on the tarmac road. He pointed a finger at the policeman.
“You will not harass my vehicle, insult my country or intimidate my girl!”
“What are you doing?” Belle cried.
She watched, in shock, as the policeman struggled to get up. Dennis swiftly ushered her into the car and jumped into the driver’s seat. Pushing a button, stepped on the gear and they were cruising again from Santa Barbara toward Los Angeles.
Adrenaline pumping and veins popping, Dennis clutched the steering wheel with both hands. He was going well beyond the speed limit and not wearing a seatbelt. It was unclear what exactly had ticked him off from the minor incident yet he was in such a bad temperament that he didn’t even dare gaze at Belle, lest she see the anger blazing in his soul.
Even though she didn’t see his eyes, Belle felt his roused energy. She clutched onto her seat, yet not for the mad speed they were travelling at. Her heart thudded. She had never seen that side of Dennis before. The angry side. It terrified her. Of course, it had to make sense. That was where all his passionate vigor in his lovemaking came from.
Belle started to question whether she really knew the man she had eloped with. Just how many demons was Dennis hiding?
Chapter Three
Without warning, Dennis drove the Maserati off-road. After a forty five minute drive, they came to a beautiful resort. It was far away enough to give them cover in case the police had chosen to pursue them. For a long moment, they sat in deafening silence.
Belle did not welcome the heavy air. Turning to him, she grabbed her sweater and cleaned the dried trickle of blood off his nose.
“I saw him take note of our plate,” she said.
“The dweeb!” Dennis said. He was still incensed.
“I’ve never seen you like this before.”
He huffed, and then locked his topaz eyes into her blue gaze. He studied her round cheeks, straight nose and spotless forehead, taking in the curly baby hairs marking her hairline. Visibly, he let his guard dropped.
“Did I scare you?” His voice cracked and quickly he feigned a cough to cover it up. Belle caught it though. She nodded subtly. He sighed heavily. “This is supposed to be like our honeymoon.”
“A cross country trip?” she asked, teasing.
“Yes. An ordinary drive in a foreign country, with an ordinary girl and guy, in an ordinary car…”
Belle couldn’t help but grin. A Maserati was an ordinary car to Dennis Kroesh. Indeed, it was true that she was an ordinary girl but he was no ordinary guy. He was born from money while she was struggling just so that she and her single divorced mother could get by. It hadn’t been an ordinary drive either, what with her fear of being apprehended and he overreacting at nothing.
“I get to know you. You get to know me. We make love,” he was saying.
She flirtatiously squeezed his thigh, prompting a
Belle squealed, suddenly amused. “No. Dennis couldn’t hurt a fly if he tried. Um. We were making out… I hit him, accidentally. We are on a good old road trip. We are from London, you see.”
Roger had his arms akimbo. He scowled as he processed what she was telling him. Authoritatively he moved towards the Maserati, running his hand on its smooth exterior. This flustered Dennis.
“Then I hope to only find tea and biscuits when I search your car,” Roger said. Dennis intercepted the police officer, daringly staring him down. The officer wasn’t intimidated. He asked, “Are you obstructing justice?”
“What justice? We’ve done nothing wrong so back off and go back to doing your petty job!”
Belle touched Dennis’s hand. She didn’t want a confrontation to ensue. His uptight behavior made him appear guilty when they’d done nothing wrong.
The police officer was adamant. “What is it? Think I’ll steal your tea?”
Roger made to push past when Dennis violently shoved him down on the tarmac road. He pointed a finger at the policeman.
“You will not harass my vehicle, insult my country or intimidate my girl!”
“What are you doing?” Belle cried.
She watched, in shock, as the policeman struggled to get up. Dennis swiftly ushered her into the car and jumped into the driver’s seat. Pushing a button, stepped on the gear and they were cruising again from Santa Barbara toward Los Angeles.
Adrenaline pumping and veins popping, Dennis clutched the steering wheel with both hands. He was going well beyond the speed limit and not wearing a seatbelt. It was unclear what exactly had ticked him off from the minor incident yet he was in such a bad temperament that he didn’t even dare gaze at Belle, lest she see the anger blazing in his soul.
Even though she didn’t see his eyes, Belle felt his roused energy. She clutched onto her seat, yet not for the mad speed they were travelling at. Her heart thudded. She had never seen that side of Dennis before. The angry side. It terrified her. Of course, it had to make sense. That was where all his passionate vigor in his lovemaking came from.
Belle started to question whether she really knew the man she had eloped with. Just how many demons was Dennis hiding?
Chapter Three
Without warning, Dennis drove the Maserati off-road. After a forty five minute drive, they came to a beautiful resort. It was far away enough to give them cover in case the police had chosen to pursue them. For a long moment, they sat in deafening silence.
Belle did not welcome the heavy air. Turning to him, she grabbed her sweater and cleaned the dried trickle of blood off his nose.
“I saw him take note of our plate,” she said.
“The dweeb!” Dennis said. He was still incensed.
“I’ve never seen you like this before.”
He huffed, and then locked his topaz eyes into her blue gaze. He studied her round cheeks, straight nose and spotless forehead, taking in the curly baby hairs marking her hairline. Visibly, he let his guard dropped.
“Did I scare you?” His voice cracked and quickly he feigned a cough to cover it up. Belle caught it though. She nodded subtly. He sighed heavily. “This is supposed to be like our honeymoon.”
“A cross country trip?” she asked, teasing.
“Yes. An ordinary drive in a foreign country, with an ordinary girl and guy, in an ordinary car…”
Belle couldn’t help but grin. A Maserati was an ordinary car to Dennis Kroesh. Indeed, it was true that she was an ordinary girl but he was no ordinary guy. He was born from money while she was struggling just so that she and her single divorced mother could get by. It hadn’t been an ordinary drive either, what with her fear of being apprehended and he overreacting at nothing.
“I get to know you. You get to know me. We make love,” he was saying.
She flirtatiously squeezed his thigh, prompting a