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CHAPTERFOUR
FRIDAY EARLY EVENING – ANGÉLIQUE
Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I vaguely hear the sound of a closing door.
Wake up.
I try to encourage my brain to process the present, and after what feels like a dreadfully long moment, I finally manage to open my eyes slowly, only to find myself staring directly at a painting. It’s hanging across the wall. I see a large Victorian house by a lake and the golden frame that decorates the lush combination of colors is pinned against a seaweed-green wall. So peaceful. So very peaceful. I stare and I stare and my eyes go dry and then they slowly close. I cannot help it. My head drops to my chest, like a loose puppet on a string. Up, down, up.
Wake up.
My eyes flutter open again. The painting. The lake. I force myself to blink. It somehow does the trick because my brain seems to cooperate and I lift my head. My lungs fill with air and I take in my surroundings.
I’m seated on a dark wooden floor and a pile of yellow velvet pillows are propped up against my back, preventing me from falling over. Clever. I feel so damn drowsy. The space is lit by a dim light, provided by a few table lamps placed next to the painting. My body’s feeling heavy and out of balance and I need to swallow a few times to push back the slight feeling of nausea.Mon Dieu, I’ve never felt so exhausted, even though the fog in my mind is slowly disappearing.Focus.
I look at the large planters with flowers that spread a sweet scent straight into my nostrils. It somehow unsettles me. It feelswrong. Though it smellsright. Very confusing. Because no matter how much I look around me, my head’s completely empty, the memory stolen. The place looks tidy, with this urban touch that combines nature and wood.Bohemian. Very much my style if I ever get to decorate my own fancy place. I try to move my hand, and realize that both my hands and my feet are tied to an iron chain.What the hell?No, no, no.
In a fit of panic, I tear at the chains, battling this sudden feeling of physical exhaustion.Stay with me. Get the hell out of here.
Then I seehim. The man who emerges from the shadows, tall and lithe as a cat.
“Oh my God, please don't—” I frantically begin to pull on the chain again, instant panic building up in my airways. My body tightens immediately, those treacherous lungs.Not now.But with each step, he closes our distance, and the shortness of breath becomes more sudden and aggressive. My heart’s in my mouth. I try to get my fingers on the handle of my handbag, in a frantic need of relief. But it feels like a losing battle. I’m too tired now to fight with the infernal shortness of breath and my body starts shaking against the chains. With stretched hands I force myself to reach a little further.Come on.
But he’s faster than I am, a slight smile on his full, plush lips. As he stops right in front of me, he attacks every single inch of my face with piercing blue eyes. Like a cat playing with a mouse.
“Bonjour. Damn, you sure are gorgeous,” he whispers in appreciation. Then he pushes my bag a few inches further away with his right foot, moving it out of reach of my desperate hand. His gaze becomes hungry, scanning my pained face.
“Please…” I croak. “I—I,” In a frantic effort, I try to focus only on my breathing, trying to control it. But it’s no use. My body begins to tremble uncontrollably and my raspy breath is the only sound in the room. He takes the inhaler from my bag and kneels down in front of me. He supports my neck firmly with one hand, while another finger traces the seam of my lips lazily.
“So beautiful,” he hums. “Is this what you want?”
I nod desperately, tears welling up in my eyes. “Pl—please.” He smiles lightly and holds the inhaler to my mouth. I inhale my medicine and it works almost immediately. The airways widen and breathing resumes with slow and deep gulps. He replaces the inhaler with his fingers as he slowly brushes them against my mouth, teasing the outline of my lips, his intense gaze watching me come to my senses again.
Although my breathing is now back to normal, the numb feeling doesn’t go away. Neither does this inexplicable feeling of sexual arousal. I gulp and watch as he places himself between my thighs and slowly slides both hands over the chains, reminding me that I’m his captive. The soft touch torments my skin, leaving a tingle as he traces the outline of my bare feet. Who took my shoes off?
He moves further up, dipping the tips of his fingers beneath the dark fabric and taunts the sensitive flesh of my belly before halting on my breasts. When he slowly starts to unbutton my dress, I have to fight back a gasp.What the hell?And with every unfastened button, his fingertips tease my burning skin.
“W-what are you…where am I? Where’s Wyatt?”
Wyatt. That’s right, we shared coffee on the train, coming into the city. Had I even made it to Greenwich Village? The memory’s a blur. Or has he brought me here and is this all part of some master crime? In a combination of panic and treacherous excitement, I watch his full lips curl into a smile, unfolding a set of regular, white teeth. “Wyatt, such a gentleman. We refer to him asBig. He actually brought you here as a gift.Mygift.”
“Gift?” I hear myself slowly repeating and my body shudders at the thought.
“Yeah, surprise.You.” His voice is barely a whisper. Then he presses his lips onto mine. I try to pull away, but my body feels like a wax doll, unmanageable and unwieldy. And when I open my mouth to protest, only a rasping sound comes out. My defense is a disgrace. “Ssshhh.” He puts a finger to my lips and gives me an unexpected smile before he attacks my mouth again. It’s hot and demanding and I don’t stand a chance. He hums when I open my mouth and his tongue slowly invades the tight heat, licking lazily around. Sparkles of pleasure surprise me. I yank at the chains because it’s the only thing I can think of in an attempt to regain my senses. This is wrong.
He chuckles softly, a sexy rumble that vibrates through my core and makes me weak. We both know that I’m not going anywhere. His long fingers press around my neck and he keeps them there for a while as his mouth continues to lavish mine. I’m not sure about him, I’m not sure about anything. There’s something so dangerous about him.
His fingers trace the curves between my neck and collarbone. He brings his lips down, tasting the skin with his tongue, making a wet line to my earlobe before gently taking it between his teeth. His fingers dart down to my covered breasts and I gasp in surprise. Though I’m technically no longer a virgin, it’s safe to say that no one’s ever touched me like this. His hands send shivers of electric jolts that give me goosebumps. Which is messed up, since I’m chained up against his wall. What’s going on with me?
“Hm, you like that,” he purrs.
“No,” I lie, biting back a moan. Heat creeps up my neck. “Who are you?”
He pulls his lips back but keeps his face close to mine. I can only stare, hypnotized as the beautiful, lush lips curve in a sly grin while his hands keep massaging the lines of my breasts in lazy circles.
“Hm,” he hums and the sound goes straight down between my legs, causing a familiar warm feeling of shame and some other, foreign sensation. It’s strange to feel so very dazed, while all my senses are on full alert. And still his fingers do little more than tease my flushed skin, before they gently pinch my nipples. I gasp and feel a shock of desire run through me.
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you, baby. Not today.”
