Prologue

‘Three words, eight letters. Say it and I’m yours.’
‘What?’ I hissed, my eyes narrowing.
‘You heard me,’ he calmly replied. He wasn’t serious. But the fierce expression on his face told me otherwise. My teeth clenched together so tightly my jaw began to hurt. But I didn’t care. I was turning red.
The fact that Harry had the nerve to think that he had this leash on me, and the way he was acting so calm and rational just made it even worse.
To him, I was a flimsy puppet. He had hold of all the strings.
He strided over to me, looking me squarely in the eyes as his 5”10 figure managed to dominate mine by one inch. I could feel the body heat radiating off him as he stood there in front of me, close enough to touch. My hands shook as I smelt the familiar scent of his Bleu de Chanel cologne masking the air. I stared defiantly into his blue aquamarine-emerald green eyes, my heels planted in the carpet and my body rigid. His hands were innocently tucked into the pockets of his jeans, his thumbs hooked around the loops of his belt as he patiently waited for something intelligible to come out of my mouth. Although, both of us knew that those words that he was expecting to me say weren’t going to happen.
Our happily-ever-after that you watched in those cheesy rom/coms where the person that either betrayed or broken up the relationship would chase you through the streets of New York or crash your wedding and confess their undying love for you. Nope, that kind of future weren’t in the cards for Harry and I.