LUCIEN

 

I EXPECT HER to run.

I study her for hours on the video feed.  And to my shock and utter surprise, Adeline stays in the library, cuddled up on a leather chaise lounge with a navy blue throw…reading…and eating.  I had Maria fix her some hot tea, a sandwich and some homemade cookies.  Adeline practically devoured them in between turning pages, and I couldn't be happier that her hunger strike is clearly over.

Her love for books is obvious, but I honestly thought her need to escape would trump everything else.

Evidently, she's come to the conclusion that she's not leaving here.  Not easily, at least.  And the sooner she understands that and comes to terms with that fact, the sooner we can continue on with what we had started weeks ago.

I would give anything to feel her under me again, her body opening up to me like a beautiful flower and responding to my touch so fervently.  Just being in the same room as her drives me insane.  A part of me wants to force her down to the ground and just take what's rightfully mine that I bought and paid for.  But another, much bigger part of me wants her willing and compliant.  I just want her to want me the same way I want her.

However, I'm not an idiot.  I know she will never like me that way.  She will never see me for anything other than what I clearly am --- her captor.

The pad of my thumb skims across the screen over her pretty face, and I'd do almost anything right now to be able to touch her for real.

When I drop back in my chair and realize I don't have the compulsion to clean my thumbprint from the screen, I feel like a different person.  I feel…almost normal.

Adeline makes me want to be a better person, someone who can make her happy.  When I think back to the look on her face and her emerald orbs glistening with tears by just letting her read, the black, tarry muscle in my chest began to beat through the everlasting darkness again.

Sighing contentedly, I think back to what Jackson said to me.  Adeline needs some sort of freedom, even if I'm not willing to let her go.  He's completely right.  I can't keep locking her up like some sort of Disney princess in my fucked-up fairytale.

Turning my attention back to the project I've been working on, I just need to make a few more final touches until it's ready.

And then Adeline will have some of the freedom that I know she's been craving.

 

* * * * * * *

 

IT'S LATE WHEN I finally call it a night.  I check the camera feed in the library and see that Adeline is still resting comfortably and reading on the leather chaise.

Jax certainly wasn't kidding when he said she loves books.  She's utterly infatuated with them, it appears.

My eyes are glued on her when I see her yawn and set down the book she just finished.  She stands and walks towards the door.

My heart skips a beat, thinking this is it.  This is when she tries to run.

But Adeline surprises me when she stops in front of the baby grand piano.  Her eyes scan the length of the instrument as if admiring a beautiful and rare creature.  Then, she pulls out the small bench and takes a seat.

I lean up in my chair, completely engrossed with the screen.  I watch her delicate hands lift the fallboard, staring at the black and white keys with a serene look on her face.

Standing, I leave my office, my feet carrying me before my brain can even comprehend my next move.  I have a sudden urge to hear her fingers gliding along the ivory keys.  I don't care if she can't play anything other than Chopsticks.  Just the idea of seeing and hearing her play sets my blood on fire.

I force myself not to burst through the door; and instead, slowly and gently open it, as to not startle her.

Adeline doesn't so much as blink when I enter.  It's as if she's in some kind of trance…or maybe she knew I would be coming for her and was expecting me.

My feet stay planted several feet away, and I just silently watch her.  Jackson told me she plays, so I don't even bother asking her.  After a long pause, I finally request, "Will you play for me?"

Her brows furrow slightly as an unreadable expression slides over her face.  I expect her to tell me no.  But she surprises me by asking, "What would you like me to play?"

I shrug, not knowing the extent of her skills.  "Whatever you'd like," I tell her.

She faces the piano and stares at the keys for a moment.  When her delicate fingers line up on the keys and begin to play, I immediately recognize the music.  It's Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

I'm completely mesmerized as I watch her play the somber music perfectly striking each key with precision.  She's definitely a practiced pianist.  That much is clear.  She plays elegantly.

Her face looks so serious, and her brows are furrowed in concentration, but she doesn't mess up…not even once.

Once again, Adeline has amazed me beyond belief.

I swallow hard as I walk in a slow arc behind her.  I'm completely enraptured as she plays, and this isn't the first time she's caught me in her seductive web.  This woman has totally beguiled me in such a short time.  It's almost as if she were made for me right out of my very own dream.  Suddenly the cheesy line, where have you been all my life, comes to mind.

Her eyes are hooded, and it reminds me of when I took her for the first time, as if she's right on the edge of ecstasy.

I watch her skilled, delicate fingers fly over the keys, and I can feel my cock straining against my zipper.  Fuck, I want her.  And I'm starting to think I'll never be able to get enough of her.

"When did you start playing?" I ask softly, afraid of breaking her out of the trance she's in.

"When I was five," she whispers, and I can hear the sadness in her tone.

Five?  Fuck, when I was five I was barely able to count to ten.  My mother rarely sent me to school and never taught me how to do anything but steal and get her money to buy drugs.

Adeline and I obviously had very different upbringings.  Even though hers would be considered glamorous to some, I have a feeling it wasn't.  With a father like Salvatore Valenti, I don't see how it could have been.  He's a ruthless, evil man, and I've heard the stories about how many of his daughters wound up in pieces on his doorstep.  He has a reputation for being untouchable, and it only took his daughters dying for his enemies to realize how true that was.

"Do you enjoy playing?" I ask her.

"When I'm not forced to, yes," she answers solemnly.

I frown at her response.  Does she mean when she was home, or does she feel like I'm forcing her now?

"My piano teacher always made me practice the same boring concertos over and over again until it felt like my fingers were going to bleed."

Okay.  So maybe she doesn't mind playing for me then.  I hope not, because, quite frankly, I could listen to her play forever.  She's elegant and absolutely stunning as she sits perfectly on the edge of the bench, her fingers moving swiftly and her foot softly tapping the pedal below.

Not being able to stand it any longer, I reach out and touch her delicate neck.  She flinches from my touch, having been so engrossed in the music that her hand slips off the keys, making a sour note.

She gasps and says, "I'm sorry," looking up at me with undiluted fear in her emerald eyes.

I frown, wondering why her messing up would cause such a reaction.  The realization dawns on me slowly.  Obviously perfection has been demanded of her for her entire life.  She was locked away by her father, probably kept from the outside world.

And I'm doing the same exact things to her.  The things she hates.

I step back from her, suddenly needing the space.  I curl my fingers into a fist, the lingering touch of her skin seemingly burning its way into my flesh like a branding.

"I think it's time for you to go back to your room now," I tell her quietly, and secretly hating the way my voice comes out callous.

She gives me an almost imperceptible nod and stands from the piano, gently lowering the fallboard and pushing in the bench.  I watch as she looks longingly back at the books, and I can almost hear the question in her mind.

"You can take some books to your room, if you'd like," I tell her.  Her gaze snaps to mine, perhaps wondering if I somehow read her thoughts.

A slow smile appears on her face, making her impossibly more beautiful, and I can practically feel the happiness exuding from her every pore as she runs over to the nearest shelves and grabs several romance, thriller and mystery books, piling them high in her arms.

As I help her carry the books up to her room, Adeline chatters on about her favorite authors and how she got lost in one of their books today and lost complete track of time.

"I enjoy Tolkien myself," I tell her, naming one of her favorites.  The ease in which we're carrying on a normal conversation does not escape me.

Adeline proceeds to tell me how much she loves The Lord of the Rings series.  "Oh, and have you seen the movies?"  When I shake my head, she continues by spiritedly saying, "They're not as good as the books, of course.  Movies never are.  But the director, Peter Jackson, did a great adaptation."  She stops talking and takes a breath, chuckling lightly.  "Sorry I'm rambling."  She flashes me a shy smile.  "It feels like forever since I just…talked with anyone."

I grimace inwardly at her words.  It's my fault she feels that way.  Before I can even stop myself, I suggest, "We could watch the movies sometime."

The myriad of emotions that play over Adeline's face over the next few seconds make my heart stutter.  At first she's excited, but then obviously confused and then lastly forlorn.  "Sure," she says quietly.

I open the door to her room, and she steps inside.  She takes the books from me, and her fingertips graze against my forearms.  My eyes flutter close.  I'm awaiting the barrage of malevolent thoughts, but they don't come.  All I can think about is…her.

When I open my eyes, Adeline is looking up at me with those emerald orbs that give me a glimpse into the beautiful soul that lies beneath.

"Thank you for the books, Lucien," she says, my name a caress on her lips and her tone no longer contains the revulsion I'm used to hearing.

"Goodnight, Adeline," I tell her.

"Goodnight," she whispers with a sweet smile.

I close the door, placing my palm against the wood as I hear the beep signaling that she's locked away for safekeeping.

And I know if I had it my way…Adeline would never leave.

I would keep her forever.