Page 60 of Captured

But it was easy to see he was a very bad man.

He’d left me with instructions to finish getting ready and to meet him in the music room. I’d taken my time. Whether or not he would object I didn’t care. After the savage sex we’d shared, I’d taken another quick shower to wash off his stench, but not before enjoying the way he feasted on me with his eyes. In return, I did the same.

His body was insanely gorgeous, but it was his cock that made my mouth water. I’d been shocked and angry with myself when my heart had fluttered from seeing the man in all his nakedness. I’d quickly gotten over that, forcing myself to follow the plan I’d put into motion.

Now at least he believed I was attracted to him, hungering for his sex.

While I hated to admit it, there was more than a little truth to it. He was impossible not to find attractive and rugged, even in his dangerous packaging. My skin continued to tingle, his scent covering every inch of my body even after I’d used a scrubby all over, rubbing until a huge portion felt as if it had been abrased.

I had to admit the clothes I’d found waiting for me in the closet and dresser had been incredible. And exactly like some of my attire waiting for me back home or items I’d admired in a fashion magazine.

The few pieces I’d tried on had fit perfectly. That meant he’d been inside my house more than once, touching my things, learning about me. That fueled another fire, one that was all about making certain he knew what he’d done was unacceptable. I didn’t care how much he’d spent on me or that he’d provided me with a lavish piano and a beautiful room overlooking the ocean.

I refused to indulge in my passion for the brutal man, hating him even more than I did before because he’d managed to find a slight crack in my armor. It had started the night before when he’d acted like a human being instead of pure evil.

I stormed into the music room to find him dressed in more casual attire, including cream-colored trousers and a bright cobalt blue polo. It was ridiculous that seeing him dressed more casually stole my breath, my nipples aching as they had the entire time I’d been in the overheated shower. I shouldn’t give a shit his collar-length hair was tousled, as if he’d forgone a comb, preferring the natural rugged look that had my mouth watering.

Dear God, the sight of his leather moccasin-style loafers instead of the thousand-dollar pair of polished Gucci wingbacks certainly shouldn’t have me staring at him, gawking at him. I blamed the sunlight streaming in through the windows, and the fact he had a juice in his hand for my fall from grace.

Ha.

Somehow, even though the room was massive in size, much larger than my father’s huge family room, I was able to gather a scent of his aftershave. Nutty and spicy, the hint of leather and cigars mixing with something exotic that I couldn’t put my finger on. But I liked it far too much.

I hadn’t made a sound, yet he knew I’d walked into the room, turning slowly to face me. His dark eyes were as piercing as they’d been the day before, his nostrils flaring as if gathering a hint of the strawberry shower gel I’d used the second time.

All my planning, my longing to falsely surrender to him failed. I stormed in his direction, planting my hands on my hips.

“You were in my house more than that one night. Weren’t you? Admit it? You touched my things. You invaded my privacy. Hell, for all I know you took a souvenir with you. Maybe a dirty thong from the hamper in my bathroom? Did that made you feel more like a man?”

I could instantly tell he was angry by my outburst, his chiseled face now sculpted like granite. He pushed away from the window, his chest rising and falling, surprised that I’d gotten under his skin.

While I stood my ground, when he tossed the glass against the wall, shattering it into a hundred pieces, I was shocked as well as terrified. But the moment he wrapped his hand around my throat, pushing me against another wall, towering over me, all I could think about was being grateful he hadn’t forced me to walk through broken glass.

His hold was strangling, the breath ripped from my lungs. But my defiance held, refusing to give him any sense of satisfaction. I was finished with playing the innocent girl. It was time I adopted more of a femme fatale.

“Be careful, little sparrow. I doubt you want to see the monster you claim me to be out in the open.”

“Answer my question,” I gritted out, now amusing him more than anything. I’d put on makeup and lip gloss, which now felt stupid, but I’d been surprised seeing the amazing variety, the bold colors that had been purchased for me. Whether he’d gone shopping or had ordered in the amazing things didn’t matter. I’d been thrilled like some floozy.

Now I was mortified.

But the bastard was attracted to the gloss, rubbing his thumb around my mouth several times, every pass more brutal than the one before. When he shoved the thick digit past my lips, it was all I could do not to bite it off this time. I was that angry, frustrated by the yin and yang of how I felt about him and the wretched situation.

“There’s the woman and her rebellion I’ve coveted.”

Coveted? He was a very sick man, more so than I believed.

It had been a couple of days, or so I believed, maybe longer, yet his effect on me was increasing. The entire thing was ridiculous.

“Be very careful what and how you say things to me, Emily. You can ask questions, express concerns, and even dislike your surroundings but never, ever act as if you are owed something. You aren’t. I own every inch of you. Your welfare and your life are in my hands. I don’t know how to make it clearer that the time we spend together can be enraptured or you can be locked in a real cage for an extended period of time. That is entirely up to you.”

He pumped his finger in several more times and I opted not to bite down as I’d wanted.

When the fire burned down in his angry gaze, he removed his finger, patting my cheek with his hand.

“Good girl. I think you’re truly starting to understand and embrace the new situation. I will honor your question. Yes, I was inside your home when no one was there twice before the night you remember fondly. It is what I do. Learning the slightest details can be the difference between success and failure. And I assure you that I never lose in business or in pleasure.”

“And what did you learn about me?”

---