Lake

Just as I had on the walk over, I felt his eyes on me, even though I wasn’t looking at him.

Still, I felt his presence, and felt when it was gone.

I had slammed my eyes shut, intending to enjoy the hot shower no matter what. But when he left, I opened them, poked my head out of the shower to confirm what I already knew.

My emotions at him leaving were a strange mix of relief, curiosity, and disappointment.

I couldn’t lose sight of the situation, wouldn’t allow myself to, but him watching me did something to me.

My entire body felt alive; my nipples, which had been painfully erect because of the cold, were still that way, but now heavy with the ache for his touch.

I slammed my thighs together, a momentary relief from the emptiness there.

Perhaps my concussion was worse than I’d thought. What other explanation could there be for this reaction?

And there was no way to deny that I was reacting.

My mind knew what he had done to me, but my body hadn’t gotten the message.

What made it that much worse was that after Vlad, I hadn’t had any sexual feelings at all. How fucked up was it that they came back now—and with a vengeance?

It didn’t matter.

I closed my eyes again and stepped under the showerhead, the warm water cascading down my body, washing away the grime, the filth, the stress of the day before, and, most importantly, the of stench of Vlad.

I didn’t have soap, didn’t have shampoo, and I knew my hair would be a mess. But I didn’t care about that either.

I stayed in the shower until the water ran cold and then finally, reluctantly, turned it off.

I stepped out, confident the man wasn’t there.

Directly opposite the shower was a mirror that practically ran the length of the bathroom.

I stepped closer and looked at the wet, wild mane that was my hair. I studied my face, saw a little puffiness where he had hit me, the beginnings of the bruise.

I recognized the reflection staring back at me, but something was different.

I tried to pinpoint what.

It came to me in a flash, the truth of it as shocking as anything that had happened.

I felt calm and looked it too.

It was almost impossible to express it, let alone understand it, but from the first day I had met Vlad, I felt like I had been wrapped in a film of awfulness, unable to ever escape it.

Until now.

I studied my reflection in the mirror, tried to make sense of the fact that I had been kidnapped—struck, if not exactly beaten—and yet somehow, I felt better than I had in years.

I didn’t understand it, but I liked it.

“Here.”

I flinched, screeched, and then whirled around to look at the man.

Just moments ago I had been waxing about how I had felt his eyes on me, and he had caught me completely off guard and unaware.

It was a useful reminder, though.

I didn’t doubt that feeling, but also knew I couldn’t underestimate the man.

I had no idea what he intended for me, had no way of knowing what he thought of me.

I needed to stay on my toes.

I looked at his outstretched hand, saw that there was a towel and what looked to be a scrap of black silk.

Remembered then that I was completely naked.

To his credit, not that I was too keen on giving him any, the man didn’t look any lower than my neck.

Still, I felt vulnerable, exposed, and quickly grabbed the towel and gown from his hand.

I dried as quickly as I could, then slid the gown over my head.

This one had thin spaghetti straps, but at least it went somewhere near my knees.

I towel dried my hair, then quickly did the messiest French braid in the world.

“Let’s go,” he said.

My first instinct was to move, but I stayed where I was, waiting, until I finally spoke.

“No,” I said, my heart racing.

Aras

“No?” I repeated.

I’d heard her clearly, but this was a chance for her to take the word back, maybe reconsider whatever it was she was doing.

“You heard me,” she responded.

“I must not have. Because it sounded like you were making a demand, defying me, when you’re in no position to do so,” I said.

I stood blocking the door, standing at my full height, my arms hanging limply by my sides.

I’d learned early on that guys who tried to look tough by crossing their arms so people could check out their biceps were the easiest marks. Arms should be loose, at the ready.

The question was, why was I thinking about that now? She was here, under my thumb, and I believed her that she wouldn’t try another cockamamie escape.

So why did it feel like I had just stepped into a battle?

“I’m not making a demand. I’m just telling you the truth. I can’t go back in that room. I won’t,” she said.

Her voice was strong, certain, and something in it tugged at me.

I pushed it away.

“The accommodations aren’t up to your standards, princess?” I said.

“That place is torture,” she said.

She seemed to slouch just a little bit, not even a millimeter, but it changed her entire demeanor.

She let out a sigh, then locked eyes with mine. I held her gaze, ignoring the temptation to look lower at her taut nipples as they strained the black material, or the gentle curve of her stomach, which would be perfect to hold as I fucked her from behind.

“I guess that’s the point, though,” she whispered, her voice breaking into my veering thoughts.

“Yes, that is the point,” I said. “It could be much worse.”

“Yeah, it could. It could also be better. I don’t think it’ll matter if Vlad tries to rescue me if I die of hypothermia first.”

She was only goading me, throwing my words back at me. I knew that, but still, even hearing her utter his name sent my rage sparking.

She froze, slouched more.

I worked quickly to cover my reaction, took a second to marvel at the fact that she had even noticed it.

Yes, Vlad was one of the few things that sometimes got through my cool exterior, but that she had spotted my reaction so immediately was something of both wonder and concern.

“You’re not going to die of hypothermia,” I said, deciding to get back to the matter at hand.

“How do you know that?”

“The room is sixty degrees,” I said, not entirely sure why I was giving her such a specific number. “It’s the perfect temperature to keep the human body uncomfortable but alive.”

“I guess that’s why you gave me this instead of a parka,” she said, tugging at the hem of the gown.

That wasn’t the reason. I’d given her the gown because I had fantasized about seeing her in it more times than I could count. Not that she would ever know that.

“Sure,” I said noncommittally.

She frowned, and this time didn’t make any attempt to hide it.

“Look, I understand the situation,” she said.

“Do you?” I asked.

“Yes. And I know you’re in charge. But I also know I’m just a pawn in this game. That is what it is, but I would hope you wouldn’t make me suffer needlessly. Unless that’s your thing,” she added.

It wasn’t, at least not for people who hadn’t wronged me.

“You can stay in this room,” I said.

“Thank you,” she replied, not asking for more details or questioning me about the decision.

Apparently she had hated the basement more than I had known.

Which was understandable.

I had designed every inch of it to be as uncomfortable as possible, and it was clear it was working on Lake.

But she was right that there was no reason to make her suffer needlessly.

“Remember your commitment,” I said, allowing some warning to edge into my voice.

“No more harebrained schemes,” she said.

I must have frowned, for she inhaled, her eyes widening ever so slightly.

“Fine,” I said quickly.

Inside, though, I was feeling anything but.

I’d heard Lake say the same kinds of things to Vlad, acquiesce and accept.

I had taken her from what been her home at the time, dropped her in a strange place with a strange person, but I refused to allow her to lump me in with the likes of Vlad. And that easy, acquiescent voice was a part of that.

I hated it.

I turned on my heel and walked out.

Lake

That had been a roller coaster.

And I still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened.

He had been here, angry, though I wasn’t sure how I knew that. But then he was gone.

Better that than him staying and taking his anger out on me.

Besides, I needed to celebrate.

A few moments after the man left, I padded out of the bathroom and looked around the bedroom again.

I had done my best not to examine it too closely when I entered, but I looked at it again now.

It was lovely.

The dark wood furnishings were heavy, looked expensive in a way that was easy to identify.

The floor wasn’t concrete, like that awful room, and covered with ornate rugs.

Definitely an upgrade, though a beautiful prison was still a prison. That was a lesson I had relearned every day.

Still, knowing what this place was, I resisted the temptation to go to the door. It might be open, but even if it were, what would I do then?

I could be in a desert, on another continent, in a freaking space colony for all I knew. Just getting to the other side of that door would do nothing for me. So I didn’t even bother to study it.

Instead I sat on the edge of the king-size bed, ignoring my other thoughts.

And besides, my promise of no more harebrained schemes had seemed wise.

I was dealing with someone who was careful and very good at what he did, so my halfhearted attempts to get away weren’t going to do anything but piss him off.

Still, even knowing that, to not even try the door seemed insane.

And my reasons, at least my real ones, were insane.

The truth of the matter was, I had made him a promise. I had no obligation to keep that promise, and in fact was putting myself at risk by doing so.

Surprisingly, the desire to get away, or at least to try to, was tempered by my commitment.

The dude had kidnapped me, and I didn’t want to break a promise.

I was even more fucked up than I had thought.