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Rocco was leaning against the SUV, speaking his usual, angry Arabic into his cell phone. I took in his appearance. Rocco was an attractive man, but his demeanor made me incapable of nothing but distaste for him. His dark hair was cropped short, and his build was much smaller than Daniello’s, though he was just as sharply dressed. He eyed us both, finished his call, and climbed into the driver’s side as Daniello opened the door for us.
“You fault me for not being open to you, but you have not once revealed anything to me.”
I shrugged. “You know enough about me.”
“I know what I have observed.”
“I have never been married.” I crossed my arms defensively, and he reached for me across from him and pulled me to sit beside him. I let out a harsh breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“You do not like to answer questions as I do not.”
“Agreed.” I didn’t know where the sudden contempt for him came from. I had agreed to keep our relationship sexual. Suddenly, the need to know every detail of who he was ate at me, but I couldn’t deny, as intrigued as I was, he was right. I didn’t want to reveal more details of my life to him or anyone else, for that matter—something else we had in common. I wanted to know if he felt guilty for leaving his young and beautiful wife. If it ate at him the way I had abandoned Amber ate at me. I wanted to know so much, and as the SUV pulled to a stop, I was frustrated that, once again, our time was up, and I had no more room to maneuver any information from him.
Daniello looked down at me as I hesitated briefly before positioning myself for the open door. He stilled my movement, pressed his lips to mine, and opened my mouth with the slow taste of his tongue. I clung to him as his kiss ignited me, his movements slow, deliberate. Daniello brushed my hair away from my cheek with his thumb as he pulled me closer, his hands circling my neck, his gentle fingers caressing me. Dazed and ready to bend to his will, he pulled away and took his hands with him. “That is how you tell a lover goodbye. I will return.”
Instead of giving him my usual sarcastic bite, I simply nodded and exited the SUV without looking back. Because if I did, I was afraid he would see what I was terrified to show him. Biting the inside of my cheek, I forced one foot in front of the other, passing reception without a word. I was still holding my breath when I held a hand up to Ross to keep her from interrupting my retreat. Alone inside my office, I stood with my back to the door and buried my head in my hands. I was bred by my mentor to be ‘in the know’ of all situations I walked into, without a chance to be blindsided. With Daniello, I was at risk.
Silver-blue eyes I could never erase from my memory trickled into the forefront of my thoughts. “Ray,” I said his name aloud for the first time in years in silent prayer and remembered the night everything between us changed.
“Fork etiquette, attire, and you have even sharpened your verbiage. Not bad, Taylor.”
“I don’t want to look like a foo—I have no intention of looking foolish.”
Ray grinned at me as if I was his favorite new toy. I’d been at his house three weeks, and though he’d held up his end of the bargain, enrolling me in prep school the following day, he hadn’t laid a hand on me. I was beginning to wonder if I’d imagined his proposition. I rarely saw him aside from dinner; even then, he was quick to dismiss my company for a phone call.
In a way, I felt like a stray dog he had picked up from a pound and was now being taught to adhere to my new master. Oddly, I did not feel free. I felt more captive than ever. My life had changed so dramatically, and I had no time to process. I was up at 5:00 a.m. and given an hour to exercise. Ray, of course, conveniently had a gym room, so the new routine was easy. I’d spent years walking long miles on dirt roads, so I had no issue working up a healthy sweat on the treadmill before conquering the rest of the room’s equipment and its benefits. I was fed breakfast by a quiet wait staff at 6:30 a.m. and at 7:00 a.m. I met my first tutor. Because Ray insisted linguistics was my biggest issue to tackle, he had the tutor work with me for three days before unleashing me on the population of Mason Prep. Dropped at school no less than half an hour early, I was expected to be outside immediately after and transported home for my four o’clock tutor. Grasping the workload had turned out to be far less challenging than I’d expected. My tutors had repeatedly commented that I was a sponge and would require very little remedial help. I was, of course, far less advanced than my peers due to the Dyer curriculum, but with each day that passed, my confidence began to soar. I didn’t need another to conclude I would be able to handle Mason, and I would graduate with honors as part of their elitist group.
And even if it were the false confidence of an eighteen-year-old girl, I would make it a reality.
“You look tired,” Ray quipped, jolting me out of my stupor. He took a long drink of his bourbon.
I had been toying with the same forkful of food for several minutes, and it hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“I’m fine,” I answered, setting it down with defeat.
“You’re tired,” he assured me. He sat to my right at the head of the table in his formal dining room. Though I had taken the seat on the far side the first night, assuming he’d preferred it, he kept us at the same end of the ridiculously long table. It was strangely intimate for the curt conversations we’d had, and I couldn’t help but squirm under his scrutiny. The air of intimidation choked me with each of our dinners. He asked questions, and I gave him polite answers, but we were nothing short of formal.
“May I be excused?”
“No.” Typically, he granted my request, so when I moved to get up, I stopped myself. “How far have you gone?”
“Sorr—pardon?”
“How far have you gone with a man?” he asked again, no shame in his voice, his posture candid.
I felt a small amount of heat grace my cheeks but pushed my shoulders back and replied, “Close.”
“Close?” He smirked. “Close to what?”
Searching for an answer to appease him, I used his words. “Close to being fucked.”
He sat back in his seat and motioned for me by holding out his hand. Tentatively, I took it, having talked myself into giving him whatever it took to finally be free, and not only that, successful. I knew that no one in Dyer would ever know that I’d made it that far, so I was sure then I was doing it for me.
When I was standing in front of him, he inspected me closely.
“Pull down your panties.”
I did as he asked, my skirt covering everything but a small amount of thigh. I wondered if my uniform turned him on. I wondered how bad it was going to hurt. Ray leaned in and pushed my pleated skirt up slowly as his eyes took me in. I stopped wondering altogether when he reached out with gentle hands and began to stroke my thighs.
