Page 56 of Lexi, Property of Rhyder

I shake my head. “No.”

“Mmm,” he says, looking out his window. “You’re going to love it here. I live on a winery, one that’s been passed down from generation to generation. I create my own wine, and we supply the special blend to retailers all over the world,” he explains, pride shining through in his voice. I listen to him intently, not wanting to miss any tidbit of information about where I’ll be, should I somehow be able to call for help.

Master then turns to me, and out of nowhere, he asks, “Tell me, Red, were you sexually active? How many men have you had?”

Is he serious right now?

Not expecting him to ask anything so private, I feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

“By the looks of how you’re turning pink, I’d say probably not so much.”

I look forward, my eyes trying to see if the driver has heard any of this nightmare conversation, but I notice a glass screen between us and sigh in relief.

“You see, Red, I’m a man who has a huge appetite when it comes to sex. I like to know that my women are clean. So, I repeat… how many men have you been with?”

“That is none of your business,” I state, anger rising within me.

He lets out a wicked laugh, and when he’s done, he gives me an intense stare holding my gaze. “You will soon understand, Red, that youwillbehave in my presence, and when I ask you a question, youwillreply honestly. I won’t accept your smart-ass comments. If you speak to me like that again, Iwillpunish you.”

The hand on his thigh turns into a fist, and it occurs to me that this man means everything he says and that he would indeed punish me.

“I’m going to ask you one more time… how many men have you been with?” He sucks in the bottom of his full lip, and I don’t miss the wordwomen,so there have been others.

Looking down at my entwined hands, I whisper, “One.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you right. Did you say one?”

Feeling tears pool in my eyes, I look over at him. Sniffling I repeat, “Yes, one.” I then look down at my lap. “That can’t be right. A beautiful young woman such as yourself, surely you would have your pick.”

I don’t say anything because the last thing I want to do is tell him that the one asshole man who I lost my virginity to actually raped me.

He taps his fingers on his knee. “So, who is this man? Is he your boyfriend?”

Why can’t he just let this go!

I shake my head in answer. It seems like he won’t give up on this conversation.

“So, who, then?”

“A stranger,” I say, my voice coming out all croaky as I try to hold back my tears by blinking as fast as I can.

“A stranger? One-night stand, then?”

“You could say that.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of. There will be no judgment from me.” His cell suddenly rings, and I thank the Lord above for the interruption.

I listen to his conversation as the driver turns left into a driveway and stops at black wrought iron gates. Two men stand there in black suits and dark glasses. They must know who’s inside the limousine because the gates are opened, and we make our way down a long driveway.

Fields of grapes cover the entire land for as far as I can see. There are men and women working out there looking as if they’re picking grapes. Straight ahead is a mansion that looks like a plantation home. It has whitewashed walls with roses planted all the way around it. They are in full bloom and quite spectacular to the eye. Stairs lead up to the veranda where there’s a two-seater swing. The house is huge, and the balcony above gives you a bird’s-eye view of the land. To the side of the house in the distance there is a large stone building, and I wonder what’s in there—probably where they make the wine.

We come to a stop, and the driver gets out of the car, opening the door.

Master gets out, and then he places his hand out for me to follow. I don’t want to touch him, and, in my mind, I picture me refusing his hand, but I know it won’t get me anywhere to be disobedient. So, I simply accept my fate.

Once we’re out, the sun hits my skin, and I sigh with the warmth on my face. My mind wanders back to the dungeon where Paige and I were kept, and this being such a vast difference from that dreadful place.Paige.Oh, God, Paige.Every time I think of her, my stomach turns to knots and threatens to empty.

“Hello, Master, welcome back,” a lady says with a slight Spanish accent standing on the porch. The woman looks over at me and gives me a small smile. She appears young and maybe only a few years older than me—perhaps in her early twenties.

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