Page 9 of The Chains that Bind
I smile, slow and confident. "You will. Your body already remembers. Your mind will catch up."
The remainder of the flight passes in tense silence. Seraphina refuses the offered change of clothes, refuses food and drink, sits rigid in her seat like a prisoner awaiting execution rather than a woman being brought home. I let her sulk. Let her think she's proving something with her small resistances. The war is already won; these are merely skirmishes to soothe her pride.
My island appears on the horizon as darkness falls, lights glimmering against the black velvet of the Caribbean Sea. Ten private acres of paradise, accessible only by personal aircraft or boat, protected by state-of-the-art security and staffed by people who value discretion above all else. I purchased it five years ago, before I even met Seraphina, but from the moment I brought her here the first time, I knew this place was meant for us.
"It hasn't changed," she murmurs as we begin our descent, breaking her self-imposed silence.
"Some things are perfect as they are." I watch her profile in the dim cabin light. "They don't need changing, just appreciating."
The landing is smooth, the runway lights guiding us down like a string of diamonds on black velvet. When the engines quiet, the unique sounds of the island filter in—waves against the shore, tropical birds settling for the night, the soft hum of the security system that ensures our privacy.
Seraphina doesn't fight me as I help her unbuckle, doesn't pull away when my hand settles at the small of her back guiding her toward the exit. The tropical air hits us as the door opens, warm and heavy with the scent of salt and flowers. For a moment, she closes her eyes, inhaling deeply, and I see the memory pass across her face—our first time here, her wonder at the island's beauty, the week we spent barely leaving the bedroom except to swim naked in the private cove.
"Come," I say, gentler now. "You know the way."
The path from the landing strip to the main house is lined with torches, their flames dancing in the light evening breeze. The mansion rises before us, modern and imposing against the night sky, walls of glass revealing glimpses of the luxury within. I had it built to my exact specifications—every room designed to maximize the views, every piece of furniture chosen for bothbeauty and function, every system automated and controlled from anywhere on the property.
Or more importantly, controllable only by me.
"I'm not staying here," Seraphina says as we reach the main entrance, finding her resistance again. "This is kidnapping, Knox. Actual criminal behavior."
"It's a lovers' retreat," I correct her, pressing my palm to the biometric scanner beside the massive front door. It recognizes me instantly, locks disengaging with a soft click. "And it's exactly where you need to be right now."
"Need to be?" She backs away, but there's nowhere to go. Behind her, darkness and jungle. Before her, me. "You don't get to decide what I need!"
I move faster than she expects, catching her around the waist and lifting her off her feet. The remnants of her wedding dress trail behind us as I carry her across the threshold, like some twisted parody of the ceremony she almost completed today.
"But I do know what you need," I murmur against her ear as she struggles in my arms. "Better than you know yourself."
Inside, the house welcomes us with soft lighting and cool air, everything exactly as I ordered it prepared. Fresh flowers in her favorite colors. The scent of vanilla and sandalwood—the signature fragrance I had created just for our bedroom. Champagne chilling in an ice bucket beside the massive sectional sofa where we once spent an entire weekend exploring each other's bodies.
I set her down in the center of the great room, watching as recognition and memory war on her beautiful face.
"The master suite has been prepared for you," I inform her, moving to the control panel discreetly embedded in the wall. With a few taps, I activate the security protocols. Every exit locks. Every window is secured. The boat dock is disabled.The helicopter pad will only accept aircraft with my personal authorization codes.
"For us, you mean," she says, a question in her voice despite her attempt to sound knowing.
"No, angel. For you." I step closer, reaching out to tuck a strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear. "I'll be staying in one of the guest suites. For now."
Confusion furrows her brow. "You're not…you didn't bring me here to..."
"Force you into my bed?" I finish for her, allowing my fingers to trail down the elegant column of her throat. "No. When you come to my bed, Seraphina—and you will—it will be because you can't stand another night without me inside you."
Her sharp intake of breath is all the response I need.
"You're not a prisoner," I continue, circling her slowly, drinking in every detail of her. "The entire estate is yours to enjoy. The pools, the beach, the gardens. Everything except the means to leave."
"So I am a prisoner," she says flatly.
"Think of it as...a mandatory vacation. Time to remember what you're running from. And why running is futile." I stop in front of her, lifting her chin with one finger until our eyes meet. "You're not leaving this island until you accept that you're mine, Seraphina. Until you admit that everything else has been a pale imitation of what we have together."
"And if I never do?" Her voice trembles slightly, but her gaze is steady.
I smile, confident in a way only a man who has lost everything and fought to get it back can be. "Then we have the rest of our lives for me to convince you."
With that, I step back, putting deliberate space between us. "Your luggage will arrive tomorrow. For tonight, you'll find everything you need in the master suite. Including sleepwearthat doesn't remind either of us of the mistake I prevented today."
I turn to leave, feeling her eyes burning into my back.
