Chapter 16
Catherine
I’d awakened with a jolt to the sound of silence.
Not the screams of utter chaos, or panic-driven cries for help under the rain of gunfire.
In my nightmare, the walls had been covered in blood, thick strings creating macabre art illuminated by the ugly stain of overhead fluorescent lights.
The terror had been instant and palpable, suffocating me as the cool sheets wrapped around my sore and aching body had accomplished.
When I’d finally fought my way through the thick haze, the only way I’d managed to calm my nerves was by concentrating on the slender wooden blades of the ceiling fan creating a breeze in the humidity-laden bedroom.
Alexander’s scent had lingered everywhere in the room. On the sheets and pillows, the shirt he’d tossed to the floor before laying claim to my body once again. And over every inch of my sensitive skin.
What had struck me after I’d awakened and the aftermath of envisioning such horror was that I’d felt an extreme emptiness followed by a deep longing. I’d stretched my arms out, pulling the pillow where he’d finally fallen asleep against my nose, capturing a full breath of his masculinity.
I’d slipped into his shirt, pressing the material tightly against me, smiling the moment I’d realized the balcony door was unlocked and I was able to enjoy the late morning and gentle breeze.
Trust.
The five-letter word meant more at this point in my life than ever before. And why?
Because my captor hadn’t locked the bedroom door when he’d left. He hadn’t shackled me in chains or tied me to the bed with strands of thick rope, preventing me from venturing out on my own.
He’d allowed me to walk freely in and around his house, as if I was nothing but his guest for the weekend, sharing passion in good food and wine, and nights spent writhing under soft sheets.
But that’s not what we were doing.
In leaving me alone, he’d offered me an opportunity to escape, knowing I could do so. Yet he’d placed his trust in me as he’d asked me to do with him.
And honestly? I wasn’t entirely certain how I felt about that.
On one hand, I should do everything it took to find a way out. Surely, there was one neighbor who would open the door. Or one person who’d allow me to use their cellphone to call for help.
If I were as strongly convicted to the law I’d pledged my loyalty to, then there would have been no other choice.
So why had I remained roaming his house, making a fresh cup of coffee and enjoying spending time in his backyard instead of fleeing for my life?
Or maybe just my sanity?
Because I wasn’t ready to return to the everyday drudgery that had become my life.
How fascinating.
How telling.
Had my handsome captor presented me with a series of rules that boiled down to commanding that I didn’t try to escape? Yes. Had he reminded me several times about the consequences I would face if I did? Absolutely.
Did he sound threatening?
No, and that perturbed me almost as much as the fact a tiny part of me wanted to defy him, to find a way to surpass his security system and guards and disappear.
Did I actually crave him hunting me in some twisted primal game?
While in the shower as the harsh beads of water had cascaded across my aching and swollen nipples, I’d discovered the answer.
That’s exactly what a portion of me wanted. The girl who’d never done anything wrong in her life, short of sneaking cookies from the cute ceramic pig jar my mother always kept on the counter.
A good girl and high achiever, never associating with the bad boy, even though there wasn’t a girl on this earth who didn’t hunger for a taste of one.
Even now with every step taken, I was reminded of the harsh spanking I’d received. I should feel furious and incensed he’d treated me like a child, but I didn’t.
The leash was short but at least I’d been allowed to walk outside, enjoying the bright sunshine and the kiss of warmth against my skin.
His backyard was a glorious adventure of pristine landscaping, with flowering shrubs, trees, and beautiful flowers in vibrant colors creatively designed to give a taste of paradise.
The immaculate lawn was so green the turf didn’t seem real, as if colored by the perfect pencil on a blank canvas, soft like crushed velvet against my bare feet.
With a natural fountain with a small waterfall, and wooden benches and chairs in strategic positions to enjoy sculpted designs, the serene environment had become a comforting respite.
I’d found shelves of books in his house, his selection a strange foray into his eclectic tastes.
Somehow, I knew instinctively he’d read every single book; they weren’t just props to provide a touch of warmth.
There were classics and thrillers, nonfiction and even horror from the most notable authors across a broad spectrum.
My selection was strangely appealing, the original Dracula. Maybe after calling Alexander a monster I needed a comparison to ensure I was correct.
The Adirondack chair was perfect, the wood swallowing my body as I settled in, uncertain when he’d return. When not infuriated with me, he was a quiet man, his eyes forever watching. I’d found that curiously seductive in ways that would have annoyed me earlier.
There were still watchful eyes on me even in his absence.
I’d seen several men outside the windows, more dotted throughout the backyard, trying their best to blend in so I wouldn’t be uncomfortable.
While I knew guarding their master was a part of their job, I had a feeling they were unused to having guests they needed to both protect and keep imprisoned.
None had the nerve to look me in the eyes when I passed within a few feet. Something deep inside told me that Alexander had been very clear and forceful in his commands. I belonged to him and if any guard dared so much as to look at me inappropriately, they would lose more than their jobs.
The thought alone brought a little thrill, which was completely ridiculous.
They were always in sight yet nothing more than statues, huge men carrying weapons. Completely prepared to deal with anyone who dared invade Alexander’s space.
Now that I’d gotten to know him a little better, I could tell the house and every piece of furniture, every color selection for the walls and every piece of art reflected his personality more appropriately than I’d initially believed.
Everything was masculine and upon first look, one would think devoid of any emotion or creativity. But they’d be so wrong.
The atmosphere screamed of power and opulence, a strong personality that accepted nothing less than perfection. Why did that excite me so much?
As the light breeze tickled my skin, scattering incredible scents on all sides, I lost myself in the book.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d bothered to sit down and enjoy getting away from the rest of the world.
It had been months. Maybe years. I’d spent all my free time working with few exceptions.
I was used to my space and my things, crowding around my kitchen or coffee table, barely watching whatever television show I’d turned on in the background. My head buried in files, notes, and the screen on the laptop. I’d been more of a prisoner then, and one of my own making.
A few minutes later, another scent captured my attention. Masculine and inviting, the fragrance wafted over me and ignited another wave of desire. Citrus and spice, a hint of the forest and all male.
Him.
He’d returned.
I slowly closed the book, noting the page I was on, so I didn’t dare dog-ear something so precious. When I looked up, I realized his men had all disappeared. No longer needed or wanted.
He was completely silent, but I knew he was there.
Wanting.
Hungering.
He’d promised to show his innocence while providing a rare glimpse into his life and I’d never wanted anything as much.
How strange in two short days, everything had changed.
As soon as I stood and turned, I was taken aback by the sight of him.
He’d left the house in a signature dark suit, every inch of him utter perfection. Now he stood in dark jeans and a black shirt that oozed of sex appeal. While he was dangerously still, his dark eyes immediately penetrating mine, there was no anger in them.
Only desire.
He was utter dominance, a man who knew and claimed what he wanted.
Just as he’d told me.
Or maybe I should say warned.
We stood feet apart, studying each other, maybe eager to see who would make the first move. When he slowly lowered his gaze, the way his nostrils flared forced another wave of quivers. His presence alone was that powerful.
His eyes settled on the book in my hand, a hint of amusement returning to his chiseled face. He took deliberate steps toward me and with every breath, I was even more captivated by him in ways no one else could understand.
Including myself.
We’d lost ourselves to the hunger between us, a mindless fall into the depths of darkness that threatened to devour our souls.
The fine line between love and hate was exhibited in every embrace, every act of desperate passion.
Yet this wasn’t love, but a slow and steady descent into accepting the borrowed hours because nothing good would come from twisted needs and ignoring the embrace of good versus evil.
Only I was no longer certain if I should be considered virtuous.
Reaching out, the brief touch of his hand seared my skin, the gentleness allowing me to ignore reality.
“You didn’t disobey me.” He seemed amused that I hadn’t.
“Were you wishing that I had?” Something playful awakened inside and I pretended as if I was going to run away, only to have him grab my wrist, dragging me against the heat of his massive body.
The feel of his continuing desire for me, the thick bulge pressing between my legs and the wetness that followed was a reminder that I’d allowed him to get too close.
“You should know better than to tease a tyrant.”
“Ah, at least you’ve clarified who and what you are.” I rubbed my hand down his arm, never growing weary of the excitement he brought or the need furrowing deep inside.
“That should have been clear to you.” He glanced at the book still in my hand, the corners of his mouth upturning. “Dracula.”
The single word was whispered, the sound deep and unnerving.
“I thought it appropriate.”
“Do I appear to be a vampire or is it about the city and the underlying evil lurking in the shadows?”
“Merely a tortured man.”
My summation brought a smile, light forming in his eyes. “Aren’t we all tortured in ways we’d prefer never to share?”
“Sharing can bring acceptance as well as change.”
He took the book from my hand, flipping through the pages. The loss of his touch was startling. I continued to remind myself that while some might consider the time shared a fantasy, in reality it was something else entirely.
Wrong on every level.
I was an officer of the court pretending as if I could shove my oath to secure justice aside. Maybe it was already too late.
“That would imply I wanted to change, which isn’t true.
Don’t read too much into items found in my house, my sweet angel.
If you’re searching for decency, you’ll be sorely disappointed.
” His tenderness shifted as it always did, his grip on my jaw biting.
As he lowered his head, I pressed my hand against his chest, still questioning both his motives and mine.
Yet his scent was as unforgettable as it was irresistible. The descent that could cost me everything I’d worked so hard to achieve in my life needed to end.
“Are you ready to discover all the dirty little secrets you’re so certain I have locked away?” His heated breath cascaded across my skin, the hum of his voice tingling my inner ear.
“What happens if I discover evidence of a crime?”
He rubbed his thumb across my face, his chest rising and falling as he contemplated whether to tell me the truth or provide me with what I wanted to hear.
“Then I guess you’ll be required to do your civic duty. Won’t you?”
His challenges were maddening. He could obviously see right through me that I would likely fail in that duty. At least for now.
A shudder tore through my system. “Where is the first stop?”
“Where everything begins and ends.” His words were haunting, but no more so than the soulful kiss, his lips capturing mine in a quiet embrace. As always, there was no other noise, no interference. Just the two of us in a darkly passionate moment, a simple fix to last until later.
He swept his tongue inside while holding me tightly against him. The hard press of his groin, the feel of his throbbing cock increased my lightheadedness.
When he finally pulled free, he held out his hand, lifting his eyebrows as if preparing to test me. “Do you trust me?”
There it was, the single question that had weighed on his mind, something he wanted from me almost as much as the surrender of my body. I thought about the ramifications of the easy anger before wrapping my fingers around his.
There was no sense in lying.
“Yes.”