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13
“Take off your clothes.”
They were barely in the door when Jack issued the order. Nina couldn’t help wondering — hoping — it was because he was as eager to begin as shewas.
She started for thebedroom.
“Here,” he said, without turning to look at her. “Now.”
She hesitated in the entry of the penthouse, then reached for the buttons on her dress, chartreuse silk with a handful of buttons leading to a wide waistband that continued to a loose but structuredskirt.
She unfastened the buttons, slipped the dress off her shoulders, and let it fall to thefloor.
Jack walked to the bar in the living room and poured bourbon into a glass. She was surprised when he crossed the room and held it out to her. “Drink."
She wondered idly why he was offering her alcohol before they made love, if it was because whatever he was going to do to her would require her to bedrunk.
She finished the bourbon in one swallow, the liquor burning her throat on the way down. It didn’t matter why he’d offered it. She would have let him do anything to her, and she realized that was the allure of Jack’s particular brand of sexuality: the not knowing, the possibilities endless, the thrill of having no idea what would happennext.
And yes, thefear.
She handed him the emptyglass.
“Take off the rest,” hesaid.
“Here?” Was he going to take her in the entry? Push her onto the cold marblefloors?
The possibility made her core pulse withdesire.
“Here.”
She took off her bra and slid out of herpanties.
“Shoes too,” hesaid.
He didn’t always want her shoes off, but she knew instinctively this was not the time for questions. Jack’s predilections were known only to him, their mystery part of theirallure.
She slipped off her shoes. The marble was cool against her barefeet.
He stepped aside. “Go to thebedroom.”
She walked past him, acutely aware of his nearness, his eyes on her naked back as she passed. She stopped near the bed. Then there was nothing to do but wait for Jack’sinstructions.
He appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, pausing there to look at her. Gone was the man who had slowly opened up to her over the past weeks, the man who had revealed a privileged but cold childhood, who had refused to allow herpity.
In his place was the man she’d met last year, the one who had picked her up off the icy pavement, who had studied her with clinical remove, a scientist sizing up his latestsample.
Don’t look for a reason, Nina. This is just the way Iam.
He’d somehow seen her even then. Had seen every part of her, even the dangerous, hidden parts she hadn’t discoveredherself.
Stepping into the room, he crossed to the armoire. Her heartbeat quickened as he opened it and reached inside. She prepared herself for anything. She’d never looked inside the cabinet, had no idea what he kept there, what else he might have instore.
But when he turned to face her, he was holding the familiar scarletrope.
“It’s been awhile,” he said. “We’ll startslow.”
Shenodded.
