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“Very nice,” I say to a tired looking Xavier. For once, he's not in a suit. The soft jeans and t-shirt he's wearing make him less formidable.
The driver stops at the entrance and Xavier takes my hand, helping me out and leading me into my new cage, albeit, a very beautiful cage. The inside is spacious and modern. Abstract art decorates the walls as he crosses through the living area filled with high tech gadgets, warm leathers, and soft rugs. This is his world, and it’s very...him.Dark, classy, with a hint of mystery—just like its master.
He continues down a hallway that leads to two doors opposite each other.
“This is the guest wing,” he finally speaks.
Guest. His choice of words reminds me that I'm a temporary prisoner he plans on returning like an unwanted suit, and I need to figure a way out of here...fast.
“How very civilized of you to call your captives guests,” I say as he opens the door to a room the size of a small apartment.
A majestic canopy bed, all in white, looks very inviting right now. It's like a fluffy cloud amidst the varying shades of sky blue and sunshine yellow pillows in the deep window seats on each side of it.
“I think you’ll be very comfortable here. Same rules apply as they did in Chicago. You can roam the house and the land,” he says, as if this is a hotel stay. “I have a function to attend, so, tomorrow, we’ll go shopping to get you some things.”
“What’s wrong with the clothes I have?”
He drops my small leather duffle onto a navy overstuffed chair. “Are you actually putting up a fight to let me buy you pretty things?”
Yes, why am I questioning frivolous purchases? Out is out. “Well, when you put it that way.”
He half smiles. Obviously, I couldn’t care less what I'm wearing, but this outing, hopefully, might be an enormous miscalculation on his part. A crowded store could be the perfect opportunity to slip away.
The momentwe stepped foot into Lanvin, on Rodeo Drive, I knew attempting to get away would be futile.
Dress after dress I’ve tried on waiting for an opportunity that is virtually impossible with the store attendants fawning all over me.
“That gown is exquisite on you,” Hilary, the saleswoman says.
I’ll take her word for it, because with her jagged short blonde hair style, and boobs popping out of her pink button-down, she oozes sexuality.
Xavier, looking like a dark angel in his Brioni tailored suit, is oblivious, sitting in a plush, white armchair, tapping rapidly on his phone.
“What do you think?” I ask, stepping up to him. The tight bodice, which leaves half my breasts exposed, probably has over a million shiny flashes of sparkles sewn in. He stops his tapping and glances up. “You’re a fucking masterpiece in that dress.”
The lust filled gaze directed at me causes an immediate reaction in my core. I've never had a man look at me like this. His eyes strip the dress from me, and I turn away to hide my blush.
“It’s not too much?” I ask, stepping up to the mirror, turning around in a half-circle to check out the non-existent back. The material drapes just before the curve of my butt.
“We’ll take it,” he tells the sales attendant, never removing his eyes from my ass. The way he looks at my body is like a starved lion ready to spring on its prey and rip it to shreds.
Before I give in to the frenetic beat of primal urges drumming inside me, I step back into the dressing room and sag against the wall. I have to remind myself not to get sucked into the vortex that is Xavier. It's hard—so hard. The effect he had on me as a girl pales in comparison to a woman. I've seen porn now, and those sexy little Tumblr clips, so when he gives me a look like he just did, my traitorous mind conjures up much more explicit things.
“The Louis Vuitton store isn’t too far from here,” he calls out to the closed door.
I won't lie, my heart flutters a little with excitement. “Be right out,” I tell him.
After making the purchases, he places his large palm on the small of my back and guides me out the store. A man appears out of thin air to take the bags from him when we step outside into the warm air.
“Aren’t you worried about my father finding us?” I ask as we amble down Rodeo Drive. It's hard not to get distracted by the beauty of the European style buildings and focus on the danger of the situation.
He shrugs. “He won't.”
The carefree attitude he has as we walk down the busy street is ludicrous to me. Any of these people could be someone sent by my father, and he really doesn’t care.
I glance over my shoulder, making sure we aren’t being followed, and spot a black SUV down the road.
“They’re mine; don’t worry.” He looks over at me. “I have my own army, and this ismycity.”
