Stealing Cinderella Read online A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Angst, BDSM, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
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23

Ella

I’m not exactly sure what time it is when Thorsen leaves me. I only know that it’s late when he returns, the bed dipping as he sits on the other side, examining something in his hand. In the glow of the lamplight, I can make out a blue bottle. It’s like the bottle I found stashed in his bathroom drawer.

“What is that?” I ask sleepily.

He straightens his spine, turning to study me. “It’s a sleeping elixir.”

“Is that what you gave me? At the sanctuary?”

He screws the lid back on and shakes his head, setting the bottle onto the nightstand. The muscles in his body seem restless, and I’m beginning to understand that he doesn’t get a lot of sleep. But I wish he trusted me enough to tell me what keeps him up at night.

He kicks off his shoes and lies back on the opposite side of the bed, not bothering to remove the rest of his clothes. We’re an arm’s length apart, but it may as well be separate continents, and I’m not willing to accept that.

When he leans over and turns off the light, I scoot closer, inch by inch, until the side of my body bumps against his. He stiffens, and I don’t dare breathe until, eventually, he starts to relax again. We don’t say another word to each other. But when I close my eyes, feeling his warmth against me, I am content.

Something stirs me from my sleep, and when I open my eyes, I find Thorsen trying to extricate himself from my body. Somehow, during the night, we ended up with our arms and legs tangled together while my face found a home on his chest.

When our gazes collide, I’m sure I’ve never seen him so flustered. He’s confused and only slightly annoyed. But he pauses for a second, and then shakes off his thoughts, whatever they are, before removing his body from mine.

The bed is cold without him, and I feel a strange sense of loss as he turns and walks toward the bathroom. I’m not really sure what to do with myself, so I wait there while he showers, enjoying the luxuries of his bed and the faint ghost of his scent that still lingers.

When he reappears again, he’s freshly shaved and dressed and back to his typical unyielding self.

“Lisbet will make you a vegetarian breakfast this morning,” he says. “I have to go out.”

“Okay.”

He heads for the door, but I call out to him, and he turns back around.

“Can I have my phone?”

“Why?” His eyebrows pinch together. This is an issue for him. He still doesn’t trust that I won’t go to the media and tell them all wild stories about their not so beloved prince.

“I want to call Charlotte,” I say. “And Olivia too. I want to see how the animals are doing.”

He hesitates, and I’m fairly certain he’s just going to say no. But he surprises me when he nods stiffly. The resignation in his eyes tells me he fully expects I’m going to betray him somehow. Now I’m even more eager to prove that I won’t.

“I’ll leave it on the kitchen table for you,” he says.

“Thank you.” I smile at him, and he shifts uncomfortably.

“There are clothes waiting for you in your bedroom,” he tells me. “Should you want them.”

I don’t get a chance to thank him because as soon as he utters the words, he disappears around the corner, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.

Clothes and a phone? Is it possible that I’m actually getting somewhere with Thorsen? I don’t want to get my hopes up, so I try not to think too much about it as I roll off the edge of the bed and force myself upright.

On the nightstand, Thorsen’s glass bottle remains, and out of curiosity, I pick it up to examine it. It’s identical to the other bottle, except this one has a different label. It’s a sleep elixir.

When I open the nightstand drawer on his side of the bed, there are several more just like it tucked away in there. Determined to find out exactly what they are, I grab the bottle from the top and then head to his bathroom, rummaging around to remove the other one stashed there too. With both of them in my hand, I make my way back to my room and seek out a space to hide them.

That’s when I notice the closet door propped open, and just as Thorsen said, there are clothes hanging from the racks. I peek inside, and an overwhelming tide of anxiety washes over me when I realize just how many there are. Not only does it look like he bought half the city’s clothing supply but expensive labels at that. It’s way too much, and that isn’t even the worst of it. There are shoes and handbags too, which seems odd because it’s not like we’re going anywhere together, right?


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