When Love Turns Dangerous (Tara) novel Chapter 71

Tara made a hurried attempt to pass Soren, but barely had she taken a step when his hand caught hold of her right arm. The grip was firm but restrained, a sudden act that halted her escape.

He remained otherwise still, his stance unchanged, except for the hand that had emerged from his pocket to seize her. His expression darkened as he clicked his tongue in clear dissatisfaction. "Tara, I want to be your boyfriend."

The words struck her like a bolt out of nowhere. Tara froze, panic coursing through her veins. Her body stiffened, and even her heartbeat seemed deafening in the tense silence. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she instinctively tried to free her arm from his hold.

Her voice quivered as she stammered, "That's not possible."

Everything felt surreal, too abrupt for her mind to process. She couldn't comprehend why Soren had chosen this moment, why he was saying these things so suddenly.

It was clear he had been bothered by her frequent presence behind Shawn, and now, perhaps driven by an unspoken rivalry, he wanted to stake his claim before Shawn could.

Despite her rejection, Soren retained his composure, his tone unyielding. "Impossible doesn't exist. I won't force you to decide now, but I expect you to give me an answer at a definite time."

Tara looked up and met his eyes. "I can give you an answer right now. I could never be with you."

Her words hung in the air, and she felt his grip on her arm tighten slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to convey his displeasure.

Soren's eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped to a sharp, frosty edge. "Give me a reason."

Tara's glance darted to the hand still holding her arm. "Can you let go of me first?"

"No," he responded flatly, his tone brooking no argument.

"I'm just a housekeeper at the villa. The difference in our status means we could never have any other kind of relationship," Tara said.

Soren let out a chuckle. "What kind of reason is that? Those 'obstacles' are just barriers you've created yourself. In reality…"

Soren's grip tightened further before she could react or protest, pulling her firmly into his arms. His left arm encircled her waist, pulling her close.

Tara's eyes widened in shock, her lips parting slightly as surprise overtook her.

His gaze darkened, fixating on her lips, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he spoke in a low, deliberate tone. "Once I kiss you, the reasons you gave won't matter anymore."

Her heart pounded wildly at his words. She tried to pry his hand away, but his strength was unyielding.

Tara struggled desperately against his hold, her movements frantic. His breath, warm and uneven, brushed against her as he effortlessly lifted her off the ground.

"Mr. Farrell!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with panic.

Her feet left the floor, and before she could process what was happening, she found herself pressed onto the couch.

"Mr. Farrell… please get up," she pleaded, her face flushing a deep crimson. She pushed against him, but his weight made it impossible to move him.

After a moment, Soren propped himself up on one arm, creating a small space between them.

"You said that so suddenly; I can't believe it just yet. Can you give me four months? In that time, we can work on building feelings for each other," Tara said.

Her voice softened as she spoke, realizing that a gentler approach might be the only way to diffuse the situation. She hoped to buy herself some time.

Despite everything, Tara struggled to make sense of it. Lance and Soren, with their wealth and power, were surrounded by beautiful women who were far better suited to them. Why would they fix their interest on her, a housekeeper with no influence, no status, and nothing extraordinary to offer?

Tara sat down on the lounge couch, nibbling on a sliced sugar apple as she tried to calm her nerves. The situation felt surreal, almost absurd. Even if their feelings were real—which she doubted—she assumed it was only a passing fancy. Men like them wouldn't hesitate to let her go once their interest faded.

Tara figured she just needed to hold Soren off for the four months he agreed to. By then, she would have already quit her job. She doubted he could find her anyway.

As for Lance, he had yet to express his feelings directly, leaving her uncertain if his intentions were even serious.

Passing by, Russell saw Tara eating the sugar apple, her expression troubled. Confused, he walked over, speared a piece with a fork, and tried it.

Russell sighed in relief after tasting the fruit. It was sweet and perfectly ripe—he had briefly worried it wasn't up to the high standards required for the four men upstairs.

"Tara, is everything alright?" he asked, noting her preoccupied look.

Pulled from her thoughts, Tara shook her head and forced a reassuring smile. "It's nothing, Mr. Robertson. I'm just sitting here for a moment."

Russell studied her briefly and relaxed when he saw no signs of illness. "You've just arrived here. If you're not adjusting well, it's easy to get worn out. If you're feeling unwell, don't hesitate to speak up. It's better to take care of yourself than to push through."

Having noticed her strong work ethic and her constant efficiency despite her quiet nature, Russell, thinking of his own daughter, couldn't resist offering her a few more pieces of advice.

Tara was touched by his concern and responded warmly. "Thank you for looking out for me, Mr. Robertson. I'll take better care of myself."

After Russell left, she sat back down. She still had to bring dinner upstairs later.