By the time morning arrived, the storm had calmed. Rain still lashed through the sky, but it was nowhere near as heavy as the previous day, and the wind had gone. I wondered how well my boat had fared overnight. Had it ended up smashed up against the cliffs, or was there a chance the vessel was retrievable?

From the lack of noise in the house, I assumed Loretta was still sick, and I’d be left to fend for myself again. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t a child and was perfectly capable of cooking and cleaning for myself. It was only because my time was better spent elsewhere that I employed Loretta—well, partly that, but also because I’d known I wanted another woman around when it came to taking Jolie captive. Loretta had had her own cross to bear about what Jolie’s father had done. The loss of her daughter had twisted her and made her bitter, and she was more than happy to come onboard with a plan that would result in Patrick Dorman ending up dead.

I climbed out of bed, threw on sweats, and tugged a t-shirt on over my head. I didn’t plan on doing any work today. I wasn’t even sure what day it was—not that it really made any difference to me. Weekends and weekdays all blurred into one.

I figured I’d go and check on my housekeeper first. I wasn’t exactly a nurturing personality type, but I didn’t want to have to worry that she was literally dying under my roof.

Crossing the property to the wing of the house where her room was located, I rapped lightly on her door.

“Come in,” a croaky voice replied.

I pushed my way into the room and tried not to visibly recoil at the stink of sweat and vomit. Loretta was a huddled bundle under her bedcovers.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“I’ve felt better,” she replied. “But I’ve stopped being sick, so I guess that’s a good thing.”

“Yes, it is. Can I get you anything?”

The bedcovers rustled as she shook her head. “I can’t manage anything to eat yet. I have a bottle of mineral water, so I’m not going to dehydrate.”

“I can make some hot tea,” I offered. “I’ll sweeten it for you. You could probably do with some sugar in your system.”

“Thank you, sir. That’s very kind of you.”

I frowned slightly. I didn’t do kind. “No problem.”

She sat up. Her hair was all over the place, her skin ashen. I was used to seeing her unkempt. Everything felt off kilter right now, and I didn’t like it. I liked things to be in tidy boxes, and at the moment I wasn’t even sure I had any boxes.

“The weather sounded terrible last night,” she said. “Was there any damage caused?”

Our captive almost escaped, and I’ve lost a million dollar boat to the ocean, I thought but didn’t say. Instead, I shook my head. “Not that I’m aware of, though I haven’t done a round of the building yet.”

“What about the... other issue?”

“She’s still safely locked up in her room, and the plane left with her letter before the storm hit. I imagine it’s been sent already. We should hear something soon.”

“Good.” She sank back beneath the covers. “Let me know.”

I nodded and backed out of the room, grateful to be back in reasonably fresh air. I went downstairs to make the tea. I’d make tea for myself, and cook some eggs for my breakfast, too. Should I make something for Jolie? I was still furious with her for her antics last night, and it wasn’t just about her escaping, or that she’d lost me a very expensive boat. No, it was how she’d gone about escaping that had left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. I didn’t want to admit to myself that I’d enjoyed spending time with her. And there had been a fraction of a moment, when I’d had my fingers knotted in her hair, and her mouth was sliding up and down my cock, that I’d actually considered the possibility of a different future.

Would I have done that for her? Would I have put to one side the plan I’d worked toward my entire life for the promise of a future with her sharp mouth, and sexy body, and wicked smile?

No, it was a moment of weakness. I wouldn’t be repeating it. In fact, if anything, it had taught me a lesson.

I got to work in the kitchen, heating water for hot tea, and cracking and whisking eggs for breakfast. My gaze kept getting drawn down, no matter how much I was trying to keep my mind off her. She was in the dark down there; I’d made sure of it. What would she be thinking right now? Did she understand she was being punished, or did she think something else had happened?

I wanted her to know she was in the dark because it was my choice. She needed to understand that everything in her life was my choice now. I’d control what she ate, what she wore, even what fucking hours she slept if I wanted to. She was mine now, and she needed to stop fighting.

That was the only way this was going to work.

Toast popped up, hot and fragrant, and my stomach grumbled. I scraped the eggs onto the toast and ate while standing at the counter. Jolie would be hungry by now. She hadn’t eaten since the meal we’d shared, and her race across the island in the storm would have burned a lot of energy. That was fine. She was going to stay hungry. I was throwing my rule about offering her meals if she ate the last one out the window. I’d fed her well, and she repaid me by running. Now she could go hungry, and then hopefully she wouldn’t have the energy to try to escape again.

I wished I could figure out a way to turn off my emotions. I’d never considered myself an emotional person before—quite the opposite. I’d believed I was cold and dead inside, but then I’d brought her into my life, and I’d discovered something human still existed inside me. I needed to turn off my guilt about knowing she was hungry and alone down there in the dark. There was nothing down there she could hurt herself with. She was dry and had clean clothing.

If I switched on the computer and brought up the live feed, would I be able to see her? Perhaps I could bring up the lights for just a second, so I could make sure she was all right? It was my weakness edging in again, but even though I wanted to destroy her, I also wanted to protect her.

I finished making the hot tea and added a couple of teaspoons of sugar to one of the mugs for Loretta. It was a strange change in roles, me bringing something to Loretta. I thought back and realized I hadn’t actually made her anything in the seven months she’d been working here.

I knocked on her bedroom door and carried the tea inside the room. Everything was quiet, so I set the mug down on the nightstand.

“Tea,” I said softly.

I thought she was asleep again, but then she spoke. “Be careful of the girl. I see how you look at her. She’ll get into your head.”

Her words were perilously close to what had already happened. Had I been so obvious? “It’s under control, Loretta.”

“I mean it, Hayden. Remember who her father is.”

She hadn’t called me sir, and a flash of irritation burned inside me. I didn’t like it when people told me what to do—especially if it involved Jolie.

“Get some rest,” I said, managing to contain my anger.

She sank back into the bed, and I turned and left.

I went down to my office and slid into the chair at my desk. The drawers were still hanging open from where Jolie had yanked them open and rifled through them. A number of documents had my full name on them, so she knew what that was now. Not that it mattered. Another few days, and all of this would be over.

I checked my cell phone for any missed calls or messages from Henry. The screen was blank. I screwed up my lips and brought my thumb to my mouth to chew on a hangnail. I should have heard something by now. The letter should have been sent, and they’d be on their way back.

Quickly, I typed out a text message.

Update needed. Are you scheduled to return soon?

I needed that plane here. With the boat now drifting out to sea somewhere, that plane was my only way off the island. I didn’t want to draft anyone else in for transport—especially if I needed to move Jolie, too—and I did need to move her. I’d have to give Patrick Dorman a location he’d be able to get to, and that would involve sending him something that contained enough of a clue that he’d understand where to go.

When he got there, I’d kill him.

Jolie’s pull continued to work on me. I glanced down at the floor, the knowledge she was beneath my feet torturing me. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else until I made sure she was all right.

I flicked on the computer and brought up the split screens for the tiny hidden cameras in her room. Each screen was black, but only because there was no light in the room to allow the cameras to record anything. I regretted not putting any infrared cameras down there now. At least then I’d have been able to see her moving around. But I hadn’t considered that I’d end up shutting her down there in the pitch black.

Another couple of clicks on the mouse brought up the screen which controlled the lighting. It was on a sliding scale, so I selected the current time and used the scale to bring up the lighting a fraction. The room started to take shape on screen, and I leaned forward, frowning.

Where was she?

My stomach knotted. Was it possible she’d managed to escape again? The woman was like a female Houdini. But then I spotted her, in the bathroom, wedged in under the sink. She had her back pressed up against the sink stand, and her hand was cupped to her face, her knees up to her chest.

I frowned and leaned forward. It was hard to see in the dim light, but her hands looked a different color to the rest of her skin.

She must have noticed I’d brought the lights up, as she lifted her face.

“Shit.”

I sat back in my chair. What the fuck had she done to herself? Blood smeared her forehead and dripped down the lower half of her face. Red coated her fingers, and she held what I assumed was a bloodied tissue in her hand.

How the hell had she managed that?

I rose from my seat, automatically wanting to go down to her, but I forced myself to pause. Was this another trick of hers? Had she done this to herself deliberately to get me down there, so she could run again? But she must know now that there was nowhere she could go. It wasn’t as though she’d be able to fly the plane, even if it was here, which it wasn’t, and she’d untied the boat herself.

Indecision tore at me. If I truly hated her, as I insisted I did, wouldn’t I be pleased to see the blood? She was clearly hurting, but instead of taking pleasure in her pain, I felt it as though it was my own.

Slamming my fist down on the desk, I spat, “Fuck!”

I was supposed to be breaking her, but instead I wanted to scoop her up and take care of her. I couldn’t stand to see the sight of her blood.

I had no choice. I had to go down there.

Jumping back to my feet, I took out the key card she’d stolen and opened the doors to the elevator. Every muscle in my body was taut with tension.

The doors slid open, and I stepped out into her room. I glanced around for her, cautious in case this was all a ploy and she was about to shoot past me and try to escape, but there was no movement, and no sign of her in the main part of the room. I went to the bathroom, and my heart tightened as I spotted her in exactly the same position as I’d seen her on the camera, huddled up beneath the bathroom sink.

“What the fuck have you done to yourself?”

She looked up at the sound of my voice and tried to press herself backward, against the sink stand, though there was nowhere else she was able to go. She pressed her lips tightly together, a line appearing between her eyebrows. Immediately, blood filled the lines in her skin, so it looked like a red slash down her face.

“Tell me, Jolie. What happened?”

I didn’t think she was going to tell me, but then she muttered, so low I almost didn’t catch what she was saying.

“Walked into the wall.”

I lifted my eyebrows in disbelief. “You got yourself in that mess by walking into a wall.”

Her gaze shot up to mine, anger flaring in her blue eyes. “I couldn’t see anything, asshole. You put me down here in the dark.”

Guilt wound its way through me, but I pushed it away. “You know why you were in the dark. Behave yourself, and I wouldn’t be forced to punish you.”

She rolled her eyes. “We’re back to this again, are we? You making yourself feel better by insisting all this shit you’re putting me through is my fault, and not because you chose to put me through it.”

I pointed a finger at her. “You started this, Jolie. Ten years ago, remember?”

That made her shut her mouth, and she glanced away. If only she’d spoken up and not verified her mother’s lie, then my own mother would be alive today, and none of this would be happening. So, yes, this was her fault, at least in part.

I exhaled a huff of frustration. The stab mark on my inner thigh still stung, reminding me what she was capable of and that I shouldn’t let my guard down, even with her in this mess.

But still I put my hand out to her, offering to help her up. “Come on. You can’t stay down there like that. You need cleaning up.”

She stared at my hand mistrustfully. “I can clean myself up.”

“Don’t be stupid, Jolie. You’re going to need ice on that bump and you might even need stitches.”

That got her attention. “You’d take me to a hospital?”

“No, I’d do them myself.”

“If you think I’d let you anywhere near me with a needle, you’re insane.”

A chuckle escaped from between my lips. “Maybe I am. Now come on, let me help you over to the bed, and I’ll get you some ice.”

“Are you leaving the lights on?”

“If you do as I say and don’t cause me any more problems, then yes.”

I could tell she still didn’t want to take my hand, and I didn’t blame her, but finally she reached out and wrapped her fingers around mine. Her skin was sticky with her blood, but strangely, I found I didn’t mind. I pulled her to her feet. My hand tightened around hers, and I didn’t want to let go.

Loretta was right when she said I needed to be careful, but deep down I thought I might have accepted that the damage was already done.

I helped her over to sit on the edge of the bed then went back to the bathroom to wet some clean tissue.

“Here,” I told her, handing her the clean tissue and taking away the bloodied one. She removed her hand from her face, and I winced at the sight of her.

“You’ve definitely given your nose a good bash.”

She glared up at me. “I’m aware of that. It’s attached to my face.”

Okay, I deserved that one.

I reached out and brushed the hair from her forehead. She jerked back, sucking in air over her teeth, but she wasn’t quick enough for me not to see the cut on her forehead, right in her hairline. It wasn’t big, but it was deep. I thought the worst of the blood had come from her nose, though.

I studied it with a frown, and she kept her hand down, allowing me to look.

“Do you think it’s broken?” she asked, her voice muffled, like she was suffering from a bad cold. Already, blue and purple bruises were forming beneath her eyes. With a sickening sensation, I realized I wasn’t going to get away with taking her out in public any time soon. She looked like a beaten woman, even though I hadn’t been the one to do this to her. If she combined how she looked with any kind of fear in her eyes, people would get suspicious, and I couldn’t afford for someone to call the cops on me. I’d end up arrested before I even got to her father.

I pursed my lips. “It’s too early to say yet. We’ll have to wait for the swelling to go down. I’ll go and get that ice. Stay here.”

“Where else am I going to go?” she muttered.

I ignored her and took the elevator back up to the kitchen. I emptied some ice into a jug then dug under the sink for where I thought I’d seen a first aid kit. I wasn’t going to attempt stitches on her forehead, but I thought there might be some Steri-Strips in there that might help.

Quickly, I checked my phone to see if I’d heard from my driver, Henry, or my pilot, Javier, but they’d still not replied. Had something happened to them? The storm had been bad, but I’d thought they’d out-flown it. I’d been enclosed in my own little bubble here on the island, and I hadn’t thought to check any news reports.

Pushing the thought of them out of my head for the moment, I took the ice, a towel, and first aid kit back down to Jolie. For once, she’d done as I said and was still sitting in the same spot as I’d left her. The blood flow looked as though it had stopped, and she was now using the damp tissue to wipe the dried blood from her hands.

“Here, this will help.” I set the items down on the table. Emptying a handful of ice cubes in the towel, I wrapped them up and handed them to her. “Put that against the bridge of your nose.”

She nodded and took the ice and did as I told her.

“Now,” I said, “hold still.”